Edvard cursed as a piercing pain shot through him from his left shoulder. Luckily the momentum from the ape brought him to the ground, Edvard using it to fall onto the ape. Causing it to shriek out in pain and let go of his shoulder.
Rolling to the side, Edvard swung madly with the club in his left hand. The ape shrieking in pain as the hit landed. Not wasting any time Edvard focused on getting up and only then turning around.
Finding the ape also on its feet and baring its fangs at him.
"Come on!" Edvard shouted, feinting with the short spear in his right. The ape jumping back to avoid the strike. "Come on!" He shouted again.
Roaring, the ape suddenly charged. Edvard only barely managing to bring the spear in its path. It stopped just short of it, not seeing the coming club. With a crack, the ape flew to the side as the club fell from Edvard's arm.
"Fuck!" He shouted in pain, his entire left arm numb after that hit. His back and chest warmed by the running blood of his wound.
Seeing the ape move, Edvard cursed again. Running forward he thrust the short spear into its neck. The ape drowning in its blood not long after.
Edvard did not celebrate its death, instead, he cursed a slew of profanities. With the adrenaline leaving him, the pain from his shoulder nearly sent him into shock. He had not managed to survive many fights, the pain after was a new feeling. One he had not expected to be this bad.
Using his spear as a crutch he moved towards the river to try and clean the wound. He cursed some more from the pain, but he dared not leave it as is. Digging into the open flesh, he tried to make the flowing water flow through it. Gritting his teeth in pain.
"I'll survive a day or two at best." He mumbled as he climbed out of the river, the sun starting to go down. "I need a fire, but... Goddammit!"
His mood was terrible as he realized he had no idea how to start a fire with nothing. His left arm being useless also certainly did not do him any good.
Doing his best to stop the bleeding, cauterizing it no longer an option, Edvard turned to the large leaves of the local plants. Placing them over the wound and then using a few supple branches to tighten it. Shouting in pain as his muscles refused to work.
It did not work well, but it did at least slow the flow of blood. The warm trickle on his back informing him that he was going to bleed out, "There is no way I am making it to tomorrow." He sighed, leaning against the tree. His energy spent, nothing to eat, nor anything to warm himself with.
Edvard cursed again as he realized the amount of time he had wasted. "One club, one spear. That is all I need. After getting that I should focus on finding something to eat... And finding a river. There is no certainty that I would stumble upon one like today."
Edvard did not survive until sunrise. An hour into the night he had fallen asleep. The blood loss had made him disorientated and lightheaded. He did not even know how he had died.
Waking up Edvard really wished to kill Ilvisar, the Vespes who had sent him here. He felt certain that this was hell, where he would continually be hunted by animals and ripped open. He was not even given much time to recover between attacks.
While his thoughts were on revenge and hating the one responsible, his actions were to find a stick or branch he could use to fight. Having become good at judging those that will be strong enough to actually hold out in a fight, yet easy enough to break.
As he broke just such a one, he turned and waited for the animal of this rotation. After a few seconds a tiger came out and charged him. Not at all wary of him and his stubby stick.
Edvard did not mind. He placed himself next to the tree where he had gotten the stubby club. As the tiger charged, he dodged around the tiger. Making sure to also strike with all his might as he did.
The hit disoriented the tiger and caused it to not stop its charge. It rammed headfirst into the tree, and Edvard did not delay in beating it to death.
Standing up bloodied, but unhurt, he quickly moved to find a branch he could turn into a spear. Spears were far better than clubs. Giving him more space and more versatility. However, a club was a nice secondary. No matter what, it would always do something.
What he really wished for was a blade.
Around six hours later he faced a jaguar, who he kept at a distance with his makeshift spear. He had sharpened it nicely, a club hung from his waist on a sapling belt, at the ready for if his spear cracked or got stuck.
Not having any clothing or even any cloth made it far harder to carry things. This was something Edvard came to learn as he tried to gather useful items. 'Heck, it would have made a great bandage.'
Staring at the wary jaguar, Edvard kept his spear trained in its direction. Listening to the rushing water of the river behind him, the sounds giving him confidence.
Edvard did not rush in killing the jaguar. For some reason, the animals came for him and would always fight to the death. Hence, he wanted to have the advantage of reacting to its movements.
He placed himself at the edge riverbank. If the jaguar simply rushed him, it would fall into it and allow him to easily kill it with his spear if it tried to come ashore.
In the end, this is what happened. The jaguar lost its patience and jumped at him. Edvard dodged clumsily, simply falling to the ground and almost into the river. This was enough, a splash informing him of the tactic's success.
Standing up in a rush he aimed his spear at the water. The jaguar indeed fighting the current to try and reach him. Something which made no sense at all to Edvard.
It made this fight far easier. He simply waited for it to finally reach the riverbank. Keeping up with it as it moved downstream. Finally, when it struggled onto the ground, Edvard ended its life with two semi-clean strikes.
After that Edvard continued to search for food, eating a few nuts he found during the day. During the night he faced an ape, however, he had already made himself three spears. Also having a leaf-sack filled with nuts.
When the ape appeared he threw his first spear and charged in with his second killing it with ease. However, he did not know if another would come at night. So he fought off his lethargy and stayed awake.
The next day was hard, the lack of sleep started slowing his thoughts. Finally, Edvard died because he had fallen asleep. A stupid death, yet one he had no idea how to prevent. He dared not sleep, certain that that too would be a stupid death.
This repeated a number of times. However, sometimes it was not sleep that got him. Rather it was food poisoning. Knowing that he would likely only survive a day or two, Edvard made sure to sample a different type of berry, fruit, nut, mushroom, anything edible each day.Slowly he learned what was poisonous, what was hallucinogenic, and what was just normal food.With time, the deaths became more often than not caused by the food. When Edvard died on the third day, having managed to wake to the slightest sound, he started feeling that he should only eat what he knew was safe.This single change allowed him to survive for an entire week. By which time he had died hundreds of times. His mind had changed, his perception of life becoming one of survival and constant fights. With his nights spent thinking of a life long passed.He would constantly talk with himself like a madman. How else was he to vent his anger?It was also at this time when the animal
Rushing to make some distance, Edvard picked up one of his other spears, having many placed in strategic locations around his sleeping area.The orc roared in anger as it saw Edvard continuing to dodge its attacks. An act of cowardice, one which could only be atoned for through death.With little care for being unarmed, the orc rushed towards Edvard. Throwing explosive punches in a truly magnificent show of speed and strength. Edvard only barely managed to keep sight of the flurry of fists, relying more on his body's instincts than his sights.Finally, after a great deal of dodging, Edvard managed to find an opening. Ducking to the side he slid under the attack and thrust with his spear. A good hit, the entire stone blade entering the orcs side.Yet, instead of crying in pain, the orc smiled. Sending another punch which Edvard only managed to dodge by abandoning his spear which had become stuck in the orc's side."Fucking hell. What is he made of?"
Instead, he started searching for a cave and slowly made new traps to secure the area. It took a few months, but he felt quite good about the new situation.The cave he had chosen was on the side of a mountain, not high up and easy to access. It was also close to a nearby spring and had plenty of obsidian nearby. The mountainous area Edvard felt confident few would come from, allowing him to place his focus on securing the cave and the area in front of it.He had realized the danger of the cave. It was not deep, just 10 or so meters (33ft). If he was to find himself trapped inside he realized he would have little chance of surviving the encounter.So, to counter this he started by making fences and later a garden to make life easier. His hope was to turn the fences into walls, though he failed to see how he was supposed to accomplish that alone.The fences however were not hard to make and Edvard felt they would do the job. They were not pretty, with spik
Looking at the bloodied area with the now mangled bodies of what he could only think of as children. Edvard felt terrible, he felt like a monster. Images of Roland and Tracy overlapped in his mind, causing him to fall to his knees in horror.He could not bear this and in anger and despair, he shouted to the heavens. "Why!? Why must you torture me! First physical torment! And now... Have you no soul!?"He had no thought that he would receive a reply, but venting helped him at least stabilize. Yet, he kept staring at what he had done and it kept eating at him.He wished he could take the time to bury the six childlike figures, but he knew it was useless. More would come and he couldn't spare the time. Yet, as he stood up and started moving away rationale and logic did not help him feel any better.No matter what he tried he could not block the images from his mind, tormenting him each step of the way.He tried his best to focus on work, to apply the
For the next week he struggled with these thoughts, surviving against teen beasts of prey no longer difficult for him. Slowly he managed to close his heart to emotion, leaving only a small hole in this enclosure. His wife and children filling it and no one else.So, time started flowing again, Edvard becoming colder and colder as the weeks turned into months. Even his memory of Yawen and his children started to fade. At night he would toss and turn as he failed to recall their voices.Slowly even their faces started fading. Only his love for them stayed strong and kept him from growing insane and completely detached from life.In this life, he had realized the limitations of a cave. Not only could it easily be flooded, but it could also become his grave. Yet, the same could be said of a normal house.Instead, Edvard took to the trees. Having become proficient in rope making and weaving, and having the tools at the ready, he started with a basic treehouse
Within the first month he already had all the tools he needed and was busy making his first treehouse. He no longer needed to rely on traps to deal with the animals as an arrow was more than enough.Edvard knew he was lacking in both strength and speed compared to the orcs and now also numbers, however, that was not all that fighting entailed. Traps took a great deal of effort to make and he now knew that they needed to at least be at a certain level to stay effective.As such, the first year he only focused on making his network of treehouses to not wast any time. Choosing to only make traps that took little time and were highly effective while he waited for the second year where the orcs would start having iron weapons.In this time he also fiddled with a few creations that might make life even easier. Guns were a bit optimistic, but repeater crossbows weren't. While he still lacked the iron for the limbs, he started carving the bolts and shaft.He also
"Why?" The pained look of betrayal in her eyes nearly killed Edvard, yet he stood his ground."Please, go..." It came as a whisper, and instead of keeping up her act, she smiled. A smile of the devil."But it is you or me. You know the rules.""Nooooooo!" Edvard shouted as he focused the bow on her heart, "Gooooo!""I can't." She said, a dagger suddenly appearing in her hand. The sight nearly causing Edvard to lose his grip on the bowstring and the arrow trained at her heart."Why? Why not just turn around and leave?" Edvard asked, his voice constantly breaking as his wife took a step forward with the daggers. Yet, he couldn't let the arrow fly. "WHY!?""You know the rules." The devil in his wife's appearance said as she jumped forward, Edvard throwing the bow to the side and blocking her strike with ease. Her strength was impressive but nowhere near to that of an orc."Just go!" Edvard shouted as the two struggled. Edvard trying his
Shockingly, his burns and wound were gone. Replaced instead by precise cuts of surgical grade equipment. The aim unknown, and the sight scaring the wits out of him.'The hell is going on?' Ghakarhi wondered, trying and failing to turn around. Only causing a massive noise as the chains moved.He immediately stopped, not wishing for whoever had tied him up to realize he was conscious. Unfortunately, it was too late.{"Ah, so you are finally awake. Good, now we can continue with the good stuff."} Said an elderly man whose clothes were covered in blood. Newer stains clearly visible over the older ones, the man looked like a butcher.Upon seeing him Ghakarhi recognized him as the man in purple who had found him before.{"It is so interesting; your skin is much darker than those from Sanguine Desert. At the same time, your body is strong for someone without magic, almost as if you have been enhanced. I really do hope you will be able to help me."} The ma