[Trait unlocked! You treat the world as your ladder. You have gained the Trait: Climber]
Dakkon painfully climbed the final meter to the bottom of the canopy where he hoped to find any relief to recover. Struggling for every bit of height he gained, the weary edgemaster finally grabbed the perpendicular purchase of a sturdy limb. Then, though no simple feat, he pulled himself up and onto the branch.
[Through struggle, you manage to elevate yourself. You have gained a rank in Climber!]
Dakkon heaved desperately. Each breath replenished his reserves a little, but he had no time to wait. The canopy was thick and he couldn’t see or hear Finnegan. Dakkon clawed upward and between trees to where branches crossed and there he saw it.
What had grabbed Finnegan—and likely gripped him still—was a snake easily over 10 meters long. It was fatter towards its head which fanned out in a similar manner to a cobra, though the shape was more like a miter or arrowhead. The head of the snake was wider than Dakkon’s torso, and the rest of its body slowly tapered in size. Only certain sections of the creature were visible as it was coiled around and squeezing something—Finnegan being the smart bet.
The creature was overgrown and far too big for Dakkon to handle, and he knew it. The snake eyed him with cold eyes, unthreatened and unconcerned that the tiny challenger might try to take his meal. Rustling could be heard from the direction of another tree and the vibrations caused the snake to look around warily. In an instant, Dakkon made up his mind. He lunged at the snake’s head, stabbing the coil of scales and muscle as he gripped onto it with his thighs and calves, much as he had on his ascent up the tree. The snake flailed, unable to bite Dakkon where he clung. The creature whipped Dakkon into a tree abruptly as Ramses showed up.
[Seren binder has struck you for 64 damage. Remaining HP 234/650]
[You have collided with a tree for 73 damage. Remaining HP 161/650]
“Holy shit!” exclaimed Ramses.
The arrival of a third person, along with a dagger inside it, shifted the serpent’s priorities. It rapidly uncoiled and began to squirm away.
“Make sure Finn doesn’t drop,” shouted Dakkon, though he knew he should be more concerned about himself falling as the snake shot away from the location of their encounter, slithering between branches. Dakkon braced himself for the raking of leaves and branches as he hung on. Letting go may as well have meant falling from the trees. The snake tore through the treetops, desperately trying to shake off and be rid of the nuisance still holding onto it.
[The burdens of travel become milder. You have gained a rank in Rider!]
Immediately after the message appeared, nearly a minute into the snake’s erratic flight, Dakkon and dagger were scraped from the creature’s back as the massive snake rounded a trunk.
[You have been slammed for 122 points of damage. Remaining HP 39/650]
Dakkon wildly grabbed for a branch, unable to fully grip it while holding his dagger. The branch slipped from his grasp and he fell downward. His body lurched as his feet struck a branch about a meter below, and Dakkon stabbed his dagger into the tree’s trunk to help stabilize himself.
As Dakkon started descending from his snake-riding adrenaline rush, he descended the tree as well. When at the bottom of the arboreal ladder, he looked around to get his bearing. He had been carried some ways from where he had fought and needed to backtrack while avoiding the attention of large boars, snakes, and anything else if he wanted to make it out safely. Dakkon wasn’t certain which direction he had been taken due to the wild nature of the snake’s treetop flight, but he figured he could at least walk in the opposite direction of where the snake seemed to be heading. It was all he had to go on. Dakkon hadn’t considered that he might end up lost and alone when he jumped on the snake—he mostly expected to be ejected from the game and barred for 11 hours before reappearing in the inn where Damak and he had collected Finnegan earlier in the day.
His guess was correct. After a few minutes, Dakkon was happy to find that his decision about where to head was a good one. Dakkon saw Finnegan and Damak, both seated, unmoving, with backs pressed against the trunks of trees. Dakkon moved toward them and Ramses jumped out of some nearby brush, startling him.
“You rode a snake!” Rameses exclaimed in a voice loud enough to cause the two seated men to stir in mild alarm.
“So, Finnegan’s ok?” Dakkon asked.
“Who cares about that!” exclaimed Ramses. “You rode a fucking snake! That was the single most metal thing I’ve ever seen.”
Ramses slammed his hand against Dakkon’s back in two quick, appreciative, yet painful, thwacks.
[Ramses has struck you for 8 damage. Remaining HP 31/650]
[Ramses has struck you for 8 damage. Remaining HP 23/650]
“Woah, cut it out,” said Dakkon with calming hands upraised. “I’m on my last legs here.”
“Damn I wish I had been recording. That was sweet,” Ramses said, shaking with excitement.
“You can ride the next one,” Dakkon said while he pulled out a ration of dried meat and a flask of water to kickstart his regeneration. Then, after a few bites and a couple of swigs, he walked up to Finnegan and Damak. “You two look like hell,” Dakkon said to the seated pair.
“You know, I think I will write a song about you after all,” said Finnegan darkly before breaking into a smile.
“I’m shocked that thing didn’t crush you to death,” Dakkon remarked.
“Me too,” the bard replied. “It didn’t really squeeze me much at all. I think it must have been trying to suffocate me.”
“Maybe it doesn’t like crushed food,” suggested Ramses, which earned him a stare from the seated men.
“Damak, how are the stumps?” Dakkon asked while examining Damak’s arms. They had already healed significantly from Damak’s short rest. Had this been the real world, the recovery speed would have been nothing short of miraculous.
“They’ll be fine in a few more minutes,” said Damak as, before their very eyes, a broken bone snapped back into its proper place. “The shield’s done for though.”
Dakkon recoiled slightly from the alien sight of human flesh and bone rapidly mending itself and was happy to check out the distraction of Damak’s splintered shield.
“I don’t suppose you’ve got a spare?” asked Dakkon.
“No,” replied the stout warrior. “One of them is enough to lug around, I assure you.”
Dakkon was prepared to overlook the fact that they had brought a cart with them which could easily act as Damak’s personal shield repository, should it be necessary. The inventory system in Chronicle didn’t penalize players much for extra weight in their bags, either. Damak must be saying he’s broke in his own way. The warrior had just lost his personal gear for the sake of the party. It must be expensive to play a tank.
“Are we going to keep fighting or should we regroup, re-gear, and invite a healer and ranged damage dealer?” asked Ramses.
The four looked uncertain. Adding another member to the group would make leveling easier, but might draw unwanted attention when the newcomers noticed their cart being refrigerated without the special ice which was now, known to all, a requirement of hunting krimmer. Having the knowledge that special ice isn’t necessary and failing to bring that information forward might prove to be just as damning as being connected to selling the fraudulent frost. Then again, they were in a thick forest with unknown dangers. If they could be careful and well informed, the four would certainly be able to move onward. It was their lack of knowledge about what they faced which amplified the potential for blunder.