*waves a sign with the following written on it* Leave the poor White Stag alone, you villains!
NAH SON, HE'S GOT A ONE-WAY TICKET, ALL EXPENSES PAID--
TO SUPLEX CITY!!
Zeroth
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Attn teeny boppers: You realize adbots aren't ppl, yes? They randomly generate login info, then execute pre-programmed posts. Your rage-spam goes unheard by the machine. And is equally annoying.
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10 mos ago
*Loads gun* I will instantly kill anyone who says "cream."
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10 mos ago
Thank you, completely unnecessary forced software update, for BREAKING FUCKING EVERYTHING I was doing.
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11 mos ago
If you're going by UK conventions of knighthood/nobility, yes. It also would be pronounced like the "dam" in "madame," rather than like a Dick Tracy "daym."
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11 mos ago
Me: "Goku, thank God you're here!" Goku: "I heard a really strong guy was here! Lemme at him!" Me: "He's right there!" *Points at my Writer's Block* Goku: "... Sorry bud you're on your own."
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Bio
On CST time, United States. Working from home now, so I can typically get at least one response out per week if not more depending on how things are flowing.
Most Recent Posts
NAH SON, HE'S GOT A ONE-WAY TICKET, ALL EXPENSES PAID--
𝕬 𝖓 𝖙 𝖆 𝖊 𝖚 𝖘
North Forest Clearing
Gods above! That rat bastard Barthen set me up! Antaeus had wanted a Quest worthy of proving himself to the captains, something to show them he had what it took to become a Hero, but this--This was something he doubted some full-fledged adventurers could pull off! A creature this size...
Yet that girl wrestled upon the beast with seemingly no concern for such things. Who was she? Some other adventurer, a real Hero, come to take this Quest for herself? No. On second glance, she didn't really seem to be causing the White Stag much inconvenience--it just couldn't reach her with its teeth, hooves, or those terrifying antlers at the moment.
Wait. Its antlers...that black coat, or whatever it was...An idea sprung to Antaeus's mind. Carefully he slipped his javelin back into the side pocket of his backpack--he would still be able to grab it quickly, but he needed both hands free. Neither of the two combatants were focused on him at the moment, so he made his way to the nearest tree and began to climb. Just fifteen feet or so would do it, so there was no need to rush...Once he had a firm foothold on the branches he began to edge out closer, trying to get as close to directly over the White Stag and the mysterious silver-haired girl as possible...
𝕬 𝖓 𝖙 𝖆 𝖊 𝖚 𝖘
Salt Lake >> White Stag's Trail
Antaeus's head snapped in the direction of the deer call. He immediately took in the disturbed underbrush, the white hair, and once more those high tree scrapes. But that call was some distance away. If he went slow to stay hidden, the White Stag would just get further and further away--and the more time there would be for some beast to happen upon him unawares. But if he just crashed on through the brush, not only might some predator hear him, but the White Stag too might detect his pursuer...
No. It's already either chasing something or running from it--if anything, I might be able to catch it as it grows tired.
With the trail so clear before him there was no need to worry about losing the tracks. Turning his javelin point-down in one hand--so that he wouldn't spear himself if he fell--the boy took a deep breath and set off at a sprint. Even as he pushed against the ground the earth supported him, and he still left no sign of his passage. Whether that would remain true in the forest, however, had yet to be seen. Going as fast as he was able, Antaeus pursued his quarry.
Ash’s Party
Skill Gain: Meditate I
By concentrating and calming oneself, increase the regeneration of Magic Power and Stamina. This skill cannot be used in battle. Any distractions in the environment will drastically decrease the effectiveness of this skill. This skill cannot be used in conjunction with other skills.
Skill Gain: Charisma I
Like other charismatic skills, your personality is almost a magical charm unto itself. You’ll have greater luck convincing others to go along with your suggestions, but only within their own natural reasoning. This skill may not work on those with stronger Wills.
Bonfire Party
19 Mana Crystals remain.
2 Flame Touched Crystals remain.
You created an item!
[Broken Fanged Lizard Jawbone (???) + Fanged Lizard Venom (???)]x2
Your Crafting Skill has kept the quality of the item from degrading.
Your Dextrous Skill has provided a slight boost to this item's quality.
You made: Poisoned Bone Needle (???) (x4)
Skill Gain: Mana Dart I
A focused magic projectile that deals non-elemental Magic damage and Piercing Damage. Higher cost than Mana Orb but increased range, speed, and damage. However, its smaller size makes it less accurate.
You are experiencing a fast rate of Skill Progression.
Yo! You have reached the Demon King's Prayer Hotline. Please hold, your prayers are NOT important to me.
I kindly request that you STOP IMMEDIATELY. Do not EVER pray to me again. Prayers are for deities and I don't want that kinda fuckin' responsibility. This is an automated response system, do not reply to it or I'll send somebody to fuck you up.
--Beep--
Update: As of [8 days] ago, if you're one of my Damned Heroes, this is for you. If you can prove your strength to me and survive, find my Palace. Protip--it ain't in that shitty cave. Try the Dungeons.
As Rain continued to practice what she hoped would be a poisonous breath skill, she found that pooling venom in her mouth and then drawing in the air to breathe it with made it much harder to avoid swallowing and choking on her own acid, but it did cause the poisonous liquid to evaporate more quickly and produce those fumes from earlier. Inside the enclosed space of her mouth, those fumes became concentrated, and when she blew out she created a small cloud around her. From the rocks below her feet, where the poison seemed to condensate most heavily, she could hear sizzling, but only for a few seconds. The fumes quickly began to dissolve in the air. Maybe this might work on an enemy in her immediate personal space, but it still wasn't what she wanted. Was it the strength of her breath or lung capacity that needed to increase? The amount of the poison? Its potency? What could she do to push this skill further...?
As Asteria and Ed worked on their bone needles, mud camo, and dirty foxholes, Mother Rat joined them with a quizzical squeak. She decided that her offspring must be trying to hide her scent for some reason, and thus flopped down into the mud puddle herself. After a messy rolling session, Mother Rat stood up and shook the heavier clumps from her fur much like a dog, splattering the other two. Asteria's crafting efforts seemed to go more smoothly this time, but she still couldn't be sure of the quality of her items. When she focused her sight, however, she would soon be able to make out about as much about the goblins as Digbie and Ardur did originally--she knew they were out there in numbers, but she couldn't make out many specifics aside from the torches, which not all of the Goblins seemed to be carrying. As she, Mother Rat, and presumably Ed took up positions in their foxhole, the mud on their coats did a good job of matching the ground, rendering them nearly invisible even to each other in this darkness if not for their recognizable scents.
Oberon's new spell activated with a blip of the system, just as his new projectile drilled a deep hole into the stone. If that had been a flesh and blood creature like himself, it likely would have gone all the way through. It seemed to have even more penetrating power than those stones the green slime was fond of launching around. But as his efforts finally paid off, it seemed like most of the group around him was starting to take up positions--whether for ambush, or a preemptive assault.
Digbie received a very odd yet entirely definite answer to his prayer. The Demon King's voice had that same sort of personality as when he had first heard it in the afterlife...and yet, there was also an air of seriousness, maybe even urgency, to his request that he not be treated as a deity. And that part about "fucking them up" didn't sound like an empty threat either.
And then he requested his character screen, and a sound like the world's most fucked dial-up split his skull as pain became his everything.
Note: System Lag. Update Required.
You are suffering from an intense migraine.
Mother Slime rolled slightly back and forth, as if she were nodding now that she seemed to understand what Asura had in mind. Though it was much harder for her to try and look inconspicuous, she followed Asura in trying to stay out of sight. Though with the hubbub coming from several of the others, that might soon become difficult...
Ardur watched the chaos from up above, now with a somewhat better view of the goblins. They seemed to be progressing forward quickly, but Rattleskull also seemed to be hanging back, perhaps to conserve his strength or order his minions around...
As Jason made his preparations, he could just barely make out shouting up ahead. And then there were some lights, like magic--unless he missed his guess, a flock of what were probably wild pixies seemed to have swooped down on one group of goblins. But a few flashes later--three of which didn't look like the pixie's magic--there was more goblin screaming, and it sounded triumphant.
If he had any sort of sensing ability that would let him actually see his targets, rather than just Tremor Sense, this might have worked better. Tremor Sense was even becoming somewhat overwhelming and confusing, thanks to all the stomping around these greenskins were doing. But at the least it gave him an idea of his distance, and he could see just well enough to make out their shadowy forms. With his focus and careful aim, he lined up a shot...
Mourningstar
As Mourningstar began to blink, the two Wisps stopped and looked to each other in confusion. Then one floated towards the direction Mourningstar had indicated, and soon let off a bright flash like a red exclamation point, complete with sound effect, of alarm. The other wild Wisp soon joined it, and now it seemed they had become distracted from dealing with Mourningstar as an intruder. Other wisps began to approach, however, but their lights seemed more calm and, if anything, curious.
Then, a larger light appeared. It was extremely bright, so much so that looking directly into its mass made you see spots for a few seconds after closing your eyes. The color was a bright, neon pink, and darkened around the edges more towards a sort of lavender. This larger Wisp headed towards all the hubbub to see what was going on...
Orchid and Goblin Party
As Orchid led her group towards the east, taking them in a different direction than they had originally intended, they came across the Hammer Team just finishing off a small group of pixies. The lead goblin here, the one whom Rattleskull had given the Stone Hammer, turned towards Orchid's approaching party with a snarl.
"You s'posed to go DAT way!" he pointed. "Don't leave no gaps for mobs t'get troo!"
More focused on the task at hand than berating the female, he turned back to his group and yelled at them to keep going. As the three of them moved forward, however, Orchid's group could see a group of fluttering things coming down from the ceiling--it looked like the Hammer Squad had come upon a whole nest of Pixies. There wasn't much time to help them, however, as Orchid's own team was soon discovered by a Dire Rat that poked its head out of its den, only to hiss fearlessly at them and leap to attack one of the torch bearers!
While Orchid was dealing with that, the Hammer Team dove into the fray with gusto. Further to the east the shouts of the Brawny Team could be heard, but it seemed they were cries of victory rather than pain or fear. The Hammer Team seemed to have either learned skills of their own, or perhaps even leveled up over the course of this battle--as Orchid and her group were dealing with the Dire Rat (and probably making short work of it granted their equipment and numerical advantage) they heard all three of the hammers shout "SMASH!" at different points.
But while all of this was happening, Crispy and Rattleskull were moving too. Rattleskull seemed to be bringing up the rear behind the Hammer Team, since they had cleared the most area at this point. Crispy's team stopped just to the west of Orchid's group.
"What you doin', youngling?! You said you was gonna scout dis way! We gots to capture territory all da way to da walls, or somethin' might slip through and get behind us!" Like the Hammer goblin, he gestured back towards the other side from where Orchid had directed her team.
"Oi!" Rattleskull's voice boomed to the left of Orchid's team. "Youngling, send one o' yer shieldboys to dat team! Dey just lost one!"
Sure enough, against what seemed to be six pixies--three of whom were already dead despite all of them seeming to focus on keeping themselves shielded--one of the Hammer Goblin's minions had fallen. THe other two, however, once again cried out the activation of their skills and took to bludgeoning the rest of the fairies. In moments the battle would probably be over in the goblin's favor--
Although just then, the second minion got beaned over the head by...a rock? It had been moving almost like a bullet! It didn't kill the goblin, but it certainly did some damage and knocked him to the ground, blood trickling over one eye.
"Keep movin' forward! Stay low, dere's someone throwin' stuff at us!" shouted the Hammer Goblin as he crouched and helped his companion up.
𝕬 𝖓 𝖙 𝖆 𝖊 𝖚 𝖘
Salt Lake
Damn. Competition or not, I should have found Redchaser and at least gotten some advice. Antaeus frowned and wrinkled his forehead. He hadn't been committed at first, and had decided before he even entered the forest that if it got too hard, too dangerous, or too dark he would go back home. Live another day and try again.
Maybe it was the fact that, as of yet, nothing had threatened him. Maybe it was that he had found the signs of the White Stag, and giving up here would be like giving up on a tunnel when the ore vein you were looking for was just a few more swings of the pick away. Maybe he was overconfident. Maybe he was mad and not thinking clearly.
But he wasn't going to quit just yet.
Multiple tracks, signs of dragging, lots of movement. Antaeus would bet on a fight--two deer, locking horns, and pushing each other back and forth so that their hooves slid in the dirt. He didn't know if that was true and it didn't matter. It didn't even matter that he could probably track down another deer just as easily.
What, specifically, might the White Stag leave behind? What differentiates him from the rest? The boy narrowed his eyes and took one more look at the disturbed earth. He "listened" to it the same way he did in the mines--what stories could this soil and stone tell him?
𝕬 𝖓 𝖙 𝖆 𝖊 𝖚 𝖘
Salt Lake
Antaeus's attention was drawn to the erratic change in the trail between the brush and the salty shore, but from here he couldn't see enough of the details through the grasses and branches. Giving it some thought for a moment, however, he could only come to a few conclusions. The first that sprang to his head was that the White Stag had gotten into a fight, but raised one more question: what kind? Had it been fighting with another creature, defending itself from a predator? Or had some other stag challenged it for dominance? Antaeus couldn't really see that second one, but then again maybe the White Stag didn't command the kind of awe from its own kind as it did from people. Either way, if the creature had been fighting Antaeus would feel slightly more confident--it might be wounded or tired, and thus easier for him to handle.
Another option could be that it had fed here and dug at the ground to find roots or seeds, or marked its territory with waste. Antaeus knew dogs and cats would often do that and then scrape the ground over it as if out of politeness. But he didn't feel like that was likely--he'd seen deer droppings before and they didn't seem too concerned about whether or not anyone would be inconvenienced by such things.
The only other prospect the boy could imagine was that perhaps it was mating season. That might explain some of the other deer tracks around the Stag, maybe he was leading his herd of females. Maybe the disturbed area of the ground had been made such by a, uh, rather frisky coupling. And that could tie into the theory about fighting, too, as male deer would of course fight over females just like the males of every other species.
But ultimately speculation wouldn't serve any purpose. Using these ideas as a baseline, he just needed more information, so he could decide where to go from there. Glancing around once more but recognizing it was time to just breathe and take the plunge, Antaeus headed through the brush to investigate the erratic patch of earth. He realized he would be in the wide open, so he didn't bother moving slowly anymore, and went ahead and slid one of his javelins out of the side pocket of his pack just in case, holding it firmly in one hand.
𝕬 𝖓 𝖙 𝖆 𝖊 𝖚 𝖘
Forest >> Salt Lake
Geez, just how big is this thing? Antaeus wondered as he followed the trail of scarred trees. He knew deer often rubbed trees for some reason--he had always kind of wondered if they had to sharpen their horns--but this was the first time he had seen such marks so high off the ground. Still he followed them, a growing knot tightening in his chest, but he hadn't seen anything to make him give up yet.
The White Stag defied expectations yet again, heading towards the lifeless Salt Lake rather than the grassy meadows. Antaeus had also heard that the best places to hunt were salt licks, as animals would return to them almost as frequently as they searched for fresh water. At the Salt Lake, he wondered if they waited for the water to dry up a bit or if they just drank it straight--he had heard men at the docks talking once when he delivered ore to be shipped somewhere else. They had said that when a man became stranded at sea, the moment he drank the salt water would be the start of the end for him. He didn't understand why that was, but maybe it was different for animals for some reason?
Antaeus had never been to the Salt Lake, but he knew that it was still dangerous, and many of those newcomers who came through on caravans every so often usually had to be warned away from the place if they decided to hunt. The Red Bear didn't wander this far, so all of the creatures that fled when it established its territory had either gone here, or to the grassy meadows. And the meadows offered too little cover from prey, too little shelter from the elements, so more than likely the larger beasts remained here. Again Antaeus felt his body tensing. He was starting to sweat.
He stopped among the cover of underbrush, just within sight of the lake but hopefully out of sight of everything else around him. As he sat for several moments in silence, the only sounds the ones coming from inside himself, he realized what danger he was truly in here. He had only a few spears and darts, no armor, no experience, no training. Who knew what beasts he might find--wildcats? Mountain Lions? Boars? Something worse? Something bigger? Even the least of these could kill him. He didn't think he could outrun a wild animal, even though he was fairly spry for his size. He knew for sure he couldn't outfight one, even with all of his strength.
"Constant thought, boy! Constant thought! If you walk around with that dumb look on yer face all the time, sooner or later you're gonna trip over those big stupid feet of yours and bring this whole cave down on top of us! Think about what you're doin' every time you swing that pick!"
That's right. This was not the first time he faced death. In the mines, at any moment a cave-in or a natural gas leak or a sinkhole could claim lives. One misswing could spell death not just for the miner, but the whole crew. He hadn't even been there all that long, and he had seen numerous people injured by simple mistakes or lack of foresight. He had seen at least one death. He had lived with that, worked with that burden hanging over his head just as surely as the stalactites, and he had managed to survive.
So he closed his eyes, forced himself to swallow, and calmed down. When he opened them, he looked out upon the shores of the lake, and all around it, and around himself. What was here? What could he see? What could he use, what could he do? And what beasts, if any, awaited him?
𝕬 𝖓 𝖙 𝖆 𝖊 𝖚 𝖘
Barthen's Bartered Goods >> Forest
"Ah...well, I was hoping she might be willing to help me track it, since I don't really have any skill in that area." Antaeus said, organizing his pack so that the javelins and darts would be in easy reach on one side of it, and his pickaxe went through a loop on the other side. Everything else went into the pack, although his shovel still stuck out one side of the top flap. "But...this is my Quest, and I suppose I ought to do it myself anyway."
Barthen warned him that the White Stag wasn't like other deer. This wasn't surprising--for it to be as famous as it was, a white stag had probably lived through many a hunt. It might even be magical. And it would no doubt be large and strong with well developed horns, having lived for many years. Antaeus decided his best option would be to trap the creature, and try to kill it from a distance with his javelins, only closing in if there were no other option and he were confident in his ability to strike it down quickly. If he couldn't end it fast, it wasn't just a question of making the creature suffer cruelly--there was also more opportunity for it to gore him or stomp his head in with its hooves.
"Thanks, sir! Hopefully I'll be back to let you know what happened...but um, on the chance I'm not? In...I guess a day or two? Probably inform the militia. And if I'm dead, tell my folks...you know, the usual stuff. They know I love them. And tell my dad that I'm...sorry, I guess."
Maybe it didn't really need to be said. Maybe he was blowing this out of proportion. But...the life of an adventurer was going to be full of risks, even from the start. Antaeus's father had told him, more than once, that he wouldn't amount to much. So in all honesty, he didn't have high expectations of himself. But damnation, he planned to try.
So Antaeus left the shop, looking up at the noon day sun and gauging how much time he might have left in the day. He set off at a light jog through the town streets, heading for the creek just outside the edge of town. He reasoned that all animals, just like people, needed water. So if he moved along the creek bank, deeper into the forest, maybe he could find tracks more easily. The ground would be softer mud, so they would stand out more, and maybe he would be able to follow them a further distance if they also left fresh mud in their wake. Of course, it wouldn't matter if he found tracks if he couldn't keep up with the animal. And they would certainly run if they knew he was coming.
He left the town by way of the narrow, packed dirt road that led to the next village over, but he didn't go far enough to hit the fork into the forest. Once he found the creek, passing over a small wooden footbridge, he peered off into the direction where the creek began to weave through the trees. He took a deep breath--the smells of the wild weren't actually that different from town, given that all of the frontier was just as new, just as untamed. But out here it was the lack of smells and sounds that gave the wilderness such distinction. No smoke from cooking fires or smelteries. No fresh baked bread and pies wafting on windowsills. No ringing of church bells, no rabble of voices, no clattering of horse hooves and carriage wheels on brick and mortar.
Only the trees, old and tall, and the running water swift and clear. Blue skies above, soft winds whispering to white clouds, bright sun beaming down. And the sun warmed the earth beneath his feet, the earth that felt deeper to him than to most others.
Antaeus was not sure, exactly, what Genasi were. All he had ever learned from school and Mrs. Maeda and others he had asked was that they had the blood of genies or elementals running through them, sometimes because of their parentage and sometimes not. But he knew from descriptions and the face he saw in the mirror every morning that he was an Earth Genasi, and thus that element was his own. He was no spell caster, but he just instinctively connected with stone and soil. He never got lost in the mines after his first time down there. He could always remember exactly where he had taken a turn, or how many feet down a tunnel he had gone. And, if he wanted...he felt as if he could become stone itself.
He began to slowly, carefully creep down the creek and into the forest. He knew no animals would come this close to a road where so many humans walked on a regular basis, and also didn't want to walk literally right next to the creek. The open space between the forest floor and the creek bank would make him visible for a long distance, especially if any creature had actually stopped at the bank to drink. But once he got a little ways in--far enough that the road had disappeared from sight--he stopped for a moment and closed his eyes.
The stone beneath his feet was strong. It would not give way. The dust upon his boots was just another layer of his skin, it would not fall. He was the earth. The earth would hide him, protect him. He felt power rise up from deep, deep below, and flood through him for just a moment. Then, with barely a breath, he opened his eyes.
As he continued through the forest, he left no footprint and his steps made no sound. Even his breathing seemed muted, and from a distance unless one looked closely, even while moving he simply seemed to be a large stone sitting atop the ground.
As he moved slowly, since disturbing any trees or plants would reveal his presence even if the solid rock and dirt under his feet did not, he kept his eyes moving this way and that. He especially focused on the creek banks and the immediate area around the water, searching for tracks. He figured that the White Stag's tracks probably would be hard to tell from other deer, but at the least they would likely be larger and broader. Maybe he could find a tuft of white hair or something that had caught on a briar bush.
@Lucius Cypher
In my next post when Antaeus goes to the Forest, I'd like to have him either remember (since he's lived in the town all his life) or otherwise find the nearest source of fresh water--pond, river, etc. Do I need to roll an Intelligence check (Nature, memory recall), a Wisdom check (Survival, Perception) or some other kind of skill?
In my next post when Antaeus goes to the Forest, I'd like to have him either remember (since he's lived in the town all his life) or otherwise find the nearest source of fresh water--pond, river, etc. Do I need to roll an Intelligence check (Nature, memory recall), a Wisdom check (Survival, Perception) or some other kind of skill?
𝕬 𝖓 𝖙 𝖆 𝖊 𝖚 𝖘
Barthen's Bartered Goods
Antaeus's excitement soon died, and his cheeks began to flush with shame as Barthen rebuked his proposal. But the storekeeper was right. Antaeus knew first hand how much work it took to find good quality ore, and how much labor it took afterwards to dig that ore, polish it, process it, and transport it. He could only imagine that just as much work went into smithing that ore into tools or weaponry, and that the things not made out of metal must have had their own process that could be just as difficult. He had often seen farmers at work during the harvest season, and wondered if the bales of hay they loaded on their carts and hauled on their backs were just as heavy as the carts full of rock and metal he pushed around. Barthen spoke the truth--if he gave Antaeus a discount, he'd be saying Antaeus's work was worth more than those efforts. And Antaeus hadn't even accomplished anything yet.
"Don't come cryin' to me, boy. These ain't your little school friends, these are men. Working men. Or women, in the Boss's case, but you might as well count her as a man too. You want 'em to stop laughin' at your screwups? You want their respect? Then stop fucking up, put your back in, and earn it!"
He winced at the memory just like he had winced the first time his father said it. But he shook free of his thoughts as Barthen let the Hunting Trap clang onto the counter. The storekeeper would grant him just one boon--he would let him use the trap to try and capture his quarry. Which no longer seemed to be just a plain deer or boar. A White Stag? But...stories of hunters seeking the white stag were the stuff of fireside tales and folk hero stories. Not to say impossible or fictional, but to Antaeus that seemed more along the lines of an actual, real Quest--if he were able to do that, he might even be as home-town famous as the Redchaser!
"That's...that's good enough for me, sir! You're right, about what you said before...I'm sorry I got big for my britches." He rubbed the back of his neck bashfully, before picking up the Hunting Trap. Then he began to look around for the rest of the gear he might need. He wanted to be fairly well prepared, if he was going to be traipsing around the wilds, and to keep it simple he tried to focus on the bare necessities...Supplies for survival and convenience would probably need to come first, then the actual weapons to do the job with.
"Ah, by the way, sir...would you happen to know where I might find the Redchaser?" he asked as he searched the shelves and stands. "I've never really hunted before, so I'm sure her advice would be helpful."
He moved carefully among the items, knowing his bulk sometimes caused him to knock things over accidentally. Barthen really did have just about everything one could need here, and Antaeus wondered if he shipped any of this out to other settlements. Maybe he would need a guard or a deliverer for something like that eventually. With that thought Antaeus also recalled what he had been hearing for a few days now--Barthen would pay a gold piece for every pound of medicinal herbs someone could bring him. In addition to making a list of supplies, Antaeus used his small coal stick to write that down in his quest book.
Equipment wouldn't be any good without something to carry it in--he already had both shoulders and one arm busy with his mining gear. So the first item would probably need to be a backpack. He picked one that looked well made and sturdy--not that Barthen would have sold anything of poor quality, but not all of the packs looked like they were designed to be used for outdoor roughing. Next Antaeus decided on a waterskin--he probably wasn't going to camp overnight in the forest, but he knew that water, food, and medicine were the kinds of things a lot of people skipped over when they told the adventuring tales. And he never understood that, because he liked to eat and he didn't like getting sick, so he figured if you didn't make sure you had those things you'd be in for a rough time. He could get food from his house, provided mother hadn't used everything in the larder, but he couldn't always stop and take a drink out in the wilderness. Then he picked up a tinderbox. If he did by some chance end up camping overnight in the forest, he would need to make fire. He might also need to make a torch at some point, and Barthen had those, but the boy decided if he really needed one he could make it from tree branches and brush out in the field. The important thing was to have a method of starting the fire.
His arms were full at this point, so he hoped Barthen wouldn't mind him going ahead and putting his stuff into the backpack for the moment. But he wasn't finished yet. He also grabbed a weighty coil of hempen rope. He had been thinking he could make a trap of some kind with his block and tackle, since it included a cable and hook, but a rope might be needed for other traps. Or to help haul the prey after he caught it. But now, if his math was right, he found himself sitting a little over the halfway point of his limited funds. Did he really want to spend everything he had in his pouch? What if this didn't work out? What if he couldn't make it as an adventurer? His father might tan his hide already for quitting his job at the mines. What would he say if he found out Antaeus had spend all this money and then had nothing to show for it?
Then again, what other option did he have? He wanted to be an adventurer in the first place because...because nothing was changing for him. His father still seemed to hate him, his mother couldn't do anything but coddle him, and if he didn't do something soon his sister would probably take more and more after his father. He had been thinking that it was him, that he needed to do something to get out of this...this rut. And to do that he had to take risks. No more point in overthinking it.
He found two javelins and added them to his bag. Then he found some smaller, lighter, but still deadly looking darts--certainly not the kind one would play at the taverns, but ones that could probably reach a man's heart through his shirt. With what little he had left he picked out a handful of them, then took the whole bundle to Barthen.
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