>>6308860
>Floor 1:
>Turn 2/40
Your stomach growls. You hadn’t eaten anything since this morning. Had you known your future options, you’d have likely had another piece of toast. Well, you were an adventurous sort. And adventurers often ate strange things. It came with the territory. Never one to back down from a challenge, you call out to Butch just as he gets the creature roasting.
>“Hey, save me some.”
“Hahaha, that’s the spirit! I’ll have you know I’m not just all brawn. My culinary skills are second to none. If I wasn’t so damn good in a brawl, I’d probably be a butcher, serving nobles the fanciest cuts of meat around.”
>“What a waste…”
Butch’s cooking takes about half an hour, the smell of roasting monster tingling your nostrils invitingly. You stand watch in case any more of those creatures come back, keeping the Torch spell shining brightly. While you can make out some eyes in the fog, none of them dare to attack the two of you. Evidently they’d learned their lesson, and watching you and Butch eat one of their own was enough to communicate to their primal brains that you were the hunters and they were prey. Eventually, Butch finishes his ‘dish’, and offers you what you believe to be a leg.
“Go on. Let me know what you think.” Butch says needily. You got the impression he was really looking for praise. Strange guy.
You sniff the meat suspiciously, before taking the tiniest of nibbles. It was rather tasteless, though it wasn’t as if the berserker had access to spices. Something about the texture reminded you of chicken, though it was far gamier. In any case, you did not suspect that the meat was going to kill you. Weren’t these just illusions, anyway? The hell was the Sorcerer King thinking making these…
>Hunger Sated for 5 Turns. +3 STR for 5 Turns.
“So, what do you think? Good right?” Butch asks, taking a large bite from the creature’s torso.
>“I think this isn’t for me.”
“Oh, alright then.” The berserker brushes the comment aside, though you can tell your comment hurts whatever passes for his feelings. “Picky eater, I see. Maybe if we’re lucky we’ll get our hands on a pig. Roasted pig is my speciality.”
>“If they’re anything like these things they’ll be trying to kill us. Let’s get out of here.”
You and Butch finish up before continuing to explore the ‘room’ you were in. You venture down the forest, your torch spell lighting the way the entire time. The creatures that were previously staring at you with a look of hatred have now had their expressions replaced with one of fear. They no longer give you any cause for concern. As you continue walking down the path laid out before you, you come across a familiar sight. A warp panel pattern, the same as earlier.
“That was easy.” Butch says.
“This place may looks vast, but I suppose there’s a limit to this illusion magic. Lucky for us. Let’s hope the next room is a little less gloomy.”
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>>6217679
Your axe and Mystletainn clash in a fevered frenzy of swings. This was a shock indeed! You were sure you’d broken every bone in the boy’s body with that first swing of yours. He certainly looked like shit. His armor was shattered and his body was severely bruised and cut. And yet he was fighting on as though he’d suffered no injury at all. He slashes at you from every direction, and before long you find yourself on the backfoot. You parry his blows to the side, each of which has considerable weight behind it. Far more than you’d ever have expected to come from that tiny body. As you counterattack, still trying to knock the blade out of his hands, Elric dances out of the way. Your swings glide through the air, unable to make any further contact with the blade except for when defending yourself.
Where the hell did he pick this up? You wonder as you block an overhand chop that would have split your skull open had you not blocked it. This was not a fighting style he would have ever learned in Fodlan. It was reminiscent of Nestor’s, the swordmaster you’d fought back in Solis. It was how many of these Morfisians fought. Swift strikes and even swifter footwork. The combat style befitting of a lightly armored warrior. It could hardly be compared to what you’d seen of Elric before with his stupid rapier.
You swing your axe towards Elric, who once again dances out of the way. This time though, you stop your strike halfway through, leaning forward and shoulder charging the boy. He is caught off-guard and sent staggering back, giving you the opportunity to attack Mystletainn. Just as you are sure your second strike is about to land, Elric leaps out of the way.
Directly onto the blade of your axe.
Before he can stab your face, you quickly toss the pipsqueak several feet away onto the ground.
“I think that’s enough!” Cuthbert shouts in a frenzy, getting in between you and the child.
Both you and Elric were breathing heavily. Just what the hell was all that about? You weren’t sure what shocked you more; that Elric was clearly possessed by some sort of anomaly, or that you had actually just enjoyed yourself.
“Lord Tristain!” Elric says with some difficulty. “That was…a fun fight! Thank you…for training with me!” He suddenly grimaces. “I think…one of my ribs…is broken!”
In response, you flick the boy in the head.
“Oww!”
>“Don’t stop fighting just cause someone said so. You let your guard down. I win.”
>20xp gained! (20/100)
“Elric, let’s get you to the others.” Cuthbert says. “Someone should be able to heal that…rib.”
Elric makes to leave alongside Cuthbert, Mystletainn still clutched in his hand. As you stand there, watching them go and catching your breath, you once again swear you see the sword blink at you.
Your axe and Mystletainn clash in a fevered frenzy of swings. This was a shock indeed! You were sure you’d broken every bone in the boy’s body with that first swing of yours. He certainly looked like shit. His armor was shattered and his body was severely bruised and cut. And yet he was fighting on as though he’d suffered no injury at all. He slashes at you from every direction, and before long you find yourself on the backfoot. You parry his blows to the side, each of which has considerable weight behind it. Far more than you’d ever have expected to come from that tiny body. As you counterattack, still trying to knock the blade out of his hands, Elric dances out of the way. Your swings glide through the air, unable to make any further contact with the blade except for when defending yourself.
Where the hell did he pick this up? You wonder as you block an overhand chop that would have split your skull open had you not blocked it. This was not a fighting style he would have ever learned in Fodlan. It was reminiscent of Nestor’s, the swordmaster you’d fought back in Solis. It was how many of these Morfisians fought. Swift strikes and even swifter footwork. The combat style befitting of a lightly armored warrior. It could hardly be compared to what you’d seen of Elric before with his stupid rapier.
You swing your axe towards Elric, who once again dances out of the way. This time though, you stop your strike halfway through, leaning forward and shoulder charging the boy. He is caught off-guard and sent staggering back, giving you the opportunity to attack Mystletainn. Just as you are sure your second strike is about to land, Elric leaps out of the way.
Directly onto the blade of your axe.
Before he can stab your face, you quickly toss the pipsqueak several feet away onto the ground.
“I think that’s enough!” Cuthbert shouts in a frenzy, getting in between you and the child.
Both you and Elric were breathing heavily. Just what the hell was all that about? You weren’t sure what shocked you more; that Elric was clearly possessed by some sort of anomaly, or that you had actually just enjoyed yourself.
“Lord Tristain!” Elric says with some difficulty. “That was…a fun fight! Thank you…for training with me!” He suddenly grimaces. “I think…one of my ribs…is broken!”
In response, you flick the boy in the head.
“Oww!”
>“Don’t stop fighting just cause someone said so. You let your guard down. I win.”
>20xp gained! (20/100)
“Elric, let’s get you to the others.” Cuthbert says. “Someone should be able to heal that…rib.”
Elric makes to leave alongside Cuthbert, Mystletainn still clutched in his hand. As you stand there, watching them go and catching your breath, you once again swear you see the sword blink at you.