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The Rifleman - Bk1 - Ch.5
🕑 Added 2024-06-02 08:00:02 +0000 UTCChapter Five
No Time For Guilt
The strange chalk-like writing was fast becoming something of a personal hatred for Wesley. He did his best to ignore it as much as possible, but lying in his tent staring at the tarp that served as the ceiling made it a little tricky.
It was scrolling across the bloody tarp and had continued to return every time he ignored it, both last night and this morning.
He gave in and read it just to get it to go away.
Progress Report!
Minor Heal (35%)
Reload (12%)
Flare (5%)
Influence - 550
Tier one - (32%)
Firsts:
Double Casting -
Use two charges of a Skill, Spell, or Ability simultaneously for greatly increased effect.
Sneak Attack -
Successfully launch an attack on an unaware target for significantly increased effect.
Communicational -
Learn a language via a language primer tablet.
Rewards - None.
Next report - 5 days.
Good Luck!
“Fuck me,” Wesley groaned. “Like the loot wasn’t bad enough!” It wasn’t like he needed a reminder of last night, let alone wanted one. Did it really have to call it a ‘sneak attack’ of all things?
He had spent the last few hours staring at the tarp as the light slowly came back into the world and replayed the events over and over in his head. Had he made the right choice?
Wes grumbled as he crawled out of his blankets and started building up the fire embers. The morning air was already losing its chill, but he wanted the comfort of a fire more than the warmth.
The body had vanished the moment he touched it, leaving behind one strange item and nothing else. The vanishing body was a relief, but didn’t take away the memories… or the act.
Wesley J. Lancaster was now a killer. He had killed a woman last night. That was a fact. It was a thing that happened. A thing he had done deliberately. He poked morosely at the fire.
He had a reason to do what he did, a good one. But dead was dead. Over the course of the last few hours, he had thought of little else, deciding he was alternately a murderer, a hero, and a victim of circumstances. None of that was right. None of that was wrong.
Ultimately, he was him. Wesley Lancaster, former actor, abductee, draftee, and Rifleman. He had made a choice, the best he could in the moment, and he would have to live with it. Sulking about it would not make a difference, nor would beating himself up.
What is, is. What will be, will be.
So, he picked up the one piece of loot he had gotten.
Epilator:
Remove unsightly hairs for up to four weeks!
It was a wand-like metal object with a flat tip. He needed to shave badly, and this had to be better than using his bayonet, right?
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“What happened to your face?” Gem’s eyes widened the moment she saw him. “Are you okay?”
“A little tender,” Wesley admitted, his fingers brushing his aching skin. “Let’s just say that next time, I will be more careful trying out a new bit of loot.”
“Do you need to see a healer?” Gem asked kindly, and Wesley sighed heavily.
“Uh, one minute?” He stepped out of the tent and cast Minor Heal, feeling immediate relief. Stepping back in, Wes saw Gem giving him a look.
“You can heal?” She asked, lips quirking.
“Look, in my defense, It’s not like I’ve had skills and that for long,” He felt himself flush with embarrassment.
“How long was your face like that?” She asked with her lips pressed tightly together to try and hide a smile.
“About an hour,” Wes mumbled.
Gem lost the battle and erupted into laughter. Every time she looked at him, she started laughing again until, at last, she got a grip on it and coughed a few times.
“Sorry,” She said sheepishly, but still with a bit of a smile.
“No, it’s fair enough,” Wesley admitted with a small chuckle. “I’m just glad you said something. I might have wandered around with that for hours before I remembered,” They stared at each other for a moment before they both broke down laughing.
“So, you here for a job?” Gem asked a minute or so later when they had both recovered. The laughter had felt good, the best he had felt since coming here, actually.
“Anything you would recommend?” Wes asked.
“As long as you don’t ask questions,” Gem said seriously. “I can not explain anything about this job. Just asking would mean I could not offer it to you, do you understand?” She winked. “Trust me, just this once, okay?”
“Uh, sure,” Wes said with a frown.
“Guard duty on the village gate from now until three hours after sundown. Pay, a single copper.” Gem said, looking him in the eye.
“I’ll take it?” Wes asked.
“Good.” She nodded and handed him the request. He noted it was a handwritten request in the village's runescript. “And remember…”
“No questions got it,” Wes said in total confusion.
“Off you go,” She shooed him out of the tent.
Wesley was barely out of the tent flap before being grabbed by the arm by his favorite- and so far only- Market keeper.
“Did you take it?” She demanded.
“Yes,” Wesley was amazed to find that Macy actually seemed to be a whole person. He had been starting to suspect that she was an actual part of the Market building itself.
“Why are you staring at my legs?” She demanded.
“Uh, sorry,” Wesley blushed. “They are very nice legs?”
“Really?” She looked down at the plain leather leggings she was wearing. To be fair, they were showing a very nice, shapely set of legs. “Imagine that. I guess I never knew because everyone else was too polite to stare at ‘em.” She gave him a meaningful look.
“I’m really sorry,” Wesley was an almost beetroot color by now and was seriously considering acquiring a skill that would allow him to crawl into the ground in these situations. He wished it was an anomaly, but the truth was he had always been this awkward and probably always would be.
“Don’t mention it,” Macy said severely. “Ever.”
“I promise,” Wesley nodded emphatically.
“Come on,” She dragged him down the street. “And keep your eyes off’n my ass!”
Just for once, Wesley knew when to shut up and do as he was told, allowing himself to be towed down the street to the amusement of many passersby. A couple even gave him a sympathetic smile, which was a huge victory considering.
“Here he is!” Macy called to the familiar one-legged bulk of Keller. “Make sure to keep him in sight now,” She pushed Wes forward and gave Keller a severe look before stalking back to her shop.
“What did you do to Macy?” Keller asked blandly. “And be honest.”
“I was looking at her legs,” Wesley admitted with a sigh.
Keller winced and shook his head.
“Look, it wasn’t like that,” Wes tried to explain, “I had just never seen her out from behind her counter.”
“Ah,” Keller gave a brief chuckle. “Well, you wouldn’t be the first, and you won’t be the last. Still, you were of help to the village, so I will tell you one thing… We don’t look at each other below the eye line unless invited to.”
“Understood,” Wesley nodded. Everyone has their own things, and respecting someone else’s ways never hurt if you could.
“Good, now you get up that tower and keep an eye out.” Keller pointed to the tower on one side of the gate.
Tower was being generous in the extreme. It was less a tower and more of a set of rickety stairs with wobbling beams barely holding them up that led to a small platform. The platform itself was scarcely wide enough for one person and was open to the sky. The uncautious occupier would find more than a single step in any direction would send them tumbling to the floor about fifteen feet below.
After barely making the stairs, which creaked ominously with each step and occasionally bowed dangerously, Wesley found himself standing stiffly on the platform, terrified that a deep breath would be all it took to fall off.
“Food’s included in the job,” Keller said as he thrust a wrapped package at Wesley. The whole structure had creaked and swayed as the Guardsman had ascended, almost leaping between stairs.
“Thanks,” Wesley took the package and then held on for dear life as Keller bolted back down to the ground. The man was a lot faster than he looked, but if Wesley was a betting man, which he wasn’t, he’d lay money on the man doing it just to mess with him.
Some things are the same the world over and, apparently, between worlds as well.
He carefully unwrapped the package and was pleasantly surprised to see a plain but well-stuffed sandwich. He ate half of it immediately. The meat was something he didn’t recognize, but it was close to the taste of the venison to not worry him too much. The thick, dry bread was heavy but tasted pleasant enough. In short, not too shabby. Wesley tucked the remains of the sandwich into the pocket of his shirt and went back to idly scanning the distance. With all the mystery surrounding this job, he was expecting something big to happen. Instead, the day stretched on, with morning giving way to afternoon, and another sandwich arrived. It went in his pack, and he finished the earlier one instead.
Nothing moved, nothing approached the village, and no one called up to him or approached him other than Keller.
As sundown approached, Wesley was more than ready to get down from his spot and be able to move around a little. It had turned out that the whole thing was just so they could give him some free food, or at least that was his guess, as nothing had happened all day.
“You awake up there, Lancaster?” Keller yelled up.
“If I weren’t, you’d know all about it,” Wesley laughed. “My ass falling off this tower would be a dead giveaway.”
“No funny business now,” Keller called up severely. “Keep those eyes on the horizon, and don’t move. You hear me?”
“I hear you,” Wesley said, eyes scanning the horizon line. He blinked twice and then frowned. Something was happening to the horizon. He rubbed his eyes and looked again. As he watched, the horizon rippled and shifted. It almost looked like…
“No questions,” Keller called up to him. “Don’t move. Don’t speak. Just watch.”
So Wesley did.
The closer it got, the clearer it became, and he still didn’t believe what he was seeing.
The land was rising into the air, leaving behind this grey mist. Each segment of the ground was one hexagonal face of a larger whole. It almost looked like the dice an ex of his used for D and D. Once the pieces were a good thirty feet from the ground, they began to rotate. Slowly, at first, then becoming nothing but a blur. When they came to a stop, a different landscape was shown. It almost looked like a caricature or sketch until it settled down and became real.
The rolling plains with their scattered trees were vanishing, being replaced by some swampy mess covered in sickly-looking trees. The line of change came almost up to the village's gates, the last few hexagons to rise having come from within a few feet of the rickety wall.
“BRACE AND HOLD!” Keller’s voice bellowed across the village.
Looking down, Wesley gaped at the villagers, who stood in a ring around the inside of the wall with one hand held out, palms glowing.
He looked up in time to see the last line of hexagons settle, releasing a wave of the grey mist that hit the walls and rose. The walls began to change, wood flaking away as dull grey bricks covered in lichen were revealed.
“Hold, Lancaster,” Keller called calmly.
Wesley swallowed and stood his ground. The mist rose, replacing the wall as it did so. When it crested the top, it rebounded as if it struck an invisible wall. The mist kept rising, swirling inches from his face until it formed a dome over the village.
“Hold, Rifleman,” Keller called again.
The mist swirled once more, then dissipated.
Cheers broke out below as Keller balled an all-clear.
“Get down here, son,” Keller called. “You don’t want to be up there when it hits.”
Wesley’s foot had barely hit the bottom step when he experienced the worst case of vertigo of his life. Keller caught him before Wes hit the floor and gently placed him against the new stone wall.
“Welcome to the game, boy,” Keller said sadly. “You did well there.”
The writing scrolled across the ground as Wesley’s head lolled bonelessly on his neck.
Achievement Earned!
A New Start:
You have, by luck or coincidence, survived a zone's state change without being warned or informed of its nature.
Escaping transformation has earned you a reward!
Skill Awarded: Claim!
Claim (0%):
Claim a hexagon as your own!
The effect persists until the claim is usurped, you are forced to abandon it, or the hex is vacant at state change.
Cost varies according to the Hex claimed.
Cost varies depending on the number of Hex claimed.
Cost varies according to tier.
Upgrade to transform Hex to chosen territory.
Hidden upgrades are available.
This time, the pain was in his left palm and much more intense than before. It almost felt like the tattoo was striking the bones in his palm. The vertigo faded with the pain, and once his palm settled, he got shakily to his feet.
“You remember now, you are still on shift for three hours,” Keller said as he shoved Wesley out the gate and slammed it. “You stay right there now!”
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Wes looked at the low-level mist hanging around the base of the few trees. Mere feet away, the grass and mud of the village were replaced with moss and rock broken up by mossy water and patches of mushrooms. The air itself felt fetid and heavy.
He unslung his rifle and kept it ready as he backed up against the metal studded wood of the gate. To either side of him were a pair of stone pillars with moss growing between the bricks. It was too crazy to be real, yet he dared not doubt it was real. For the first time in his life, Wes Lancaster hoped he had been drugged.
It was a faint hope, but still…
Movement amongst the trees further in came and went before he could see what it was.
“Ah, fuck,” Wesley muttered to himself. The next time it came, he threw out his right hand, casting Flare in a high arc. The ball of light and heat flew from his hand, carving a low light curve above the trees. As it passed over an area, things were visible. Some were not too bad, like frogs. Big frogs, but not monstrous ones.
Others, well, they were worse.
Eyes flashed in the light as something ducked under cover. Something thin and pale, with long claws on its hands and feet, stood as the light passed over. Milky eyes followed the passage of the light as its emaciated ribcage swelled hugely, the neck distending horribly before it let out a wailing scream and leaped at the orb, chasing after it as it fell out of sight.
He reached back and knocked politely but urgently on the gate.
“Let me in, please,” Wes called, his voice sounding shaky to him.
“The law is the law, Lancaster,” Keller called from above him.
Wes looked up to see the man in the tower holding his crossbow at the ready.
“I really hate that fucking law!” Wes cursed as the movement in the darkness came again. “No offense.”
“Me too, boy, me too.” Keller almost whispered the words, but Wes heard him.
He raised his rifle and dropped into a firing stance with one knee on the floor.
Whatever they were, they were coming.
