Back On the Open Road

Max slept for two days, allowing for rest and recovery with little to no annoyance from the outside world. On the first day, he made a house call to Captain Moore, removing the needles to ease his pain. Once removed he went ahead and used some healing magic to tend to the man's wounds so that there was little evidence of what Max had done as not even a scar on Moore's eye, the only scarring that Max wasn't able to fix was the stain of humiliation left on the Werelion's pride.

Besides the healing of Moore, Max had mostly slept in order to conserve energy for the long ride to come with spurts of activity. Max had taken a little time to retrace his pathing after the delay and detour, not ever expecting to take down such a threat like the Gob Father before but knew it wasn't the last. Part of his mind had become engrossed by the fact that there were others not native to this world and questions began to rise.

Max had gotten here due to the Wish system but how many others also had that opportunity? How were people chosen and brought over and what made people worthy of coming to Allaria? Or even how was a folk hero chosen to be a manager, what kind of person of myth and legends was Tamir? All these questions and no answers to be found. Not even Tamir would answer the question of just who or what he was but at this point, it mattered little at this point until answers arise.

Two months, a little over two months and he would be at Spitfire mountains and at the gates of Bastion but that wasn't taking into account the speed at which Midnight would ride. He kept forgetting the fact that Midnight was not only in her prime but a special horse like Wave, his father's horse. Taking that into account Wave had a standard walk speed on his own at about ten or so miles per hour, factoring that into things and the fact that SpitFire mountains were about three hundred miles give or take. A month at most if conditions are clear, no attacks and rides about six hours a day.

As the third day's dawn began to break, Max had already resaddled Midnight and gathered some supplies, ready to set off. But he seemed to have a pair of eyes on the back of his head as he placed a hand on the pommel of his blade. With a slow but graceful turn, he looks to see an unfamiliar face of a human but the eyes were strange as the piercing green eyes of the beast bore into his being.

"So you're the wonder kid huh? Beat me without even breaking so much as a sweat and took on a small army with a Drake, a horse, and a Gnome who had little combat experience. Yet here you are without a lick of injury, impressive to say the least but don't go growing a pair thinking just because you took me out in a weakened state you can have my title. Beth might sing praises about your magical prowess but I'm not so easy to impress. That being said, I will say you're strong for being so young, but stick around my meadow with a full moon in the air and I will show you my strength."

Moore was full of nothing but a sickening amount of pride and his beating didn't seem to humble him any as Max scoffs and shakes his head. There was little point in arguing with a kitten who stood on a hill and declared himself king of the mountain as Max put his feet in the stirrups, petting his beloved horse as they rode out of Hourton.

The meadow seemed to almost become infinite to Max as he rode, letting the wind woosh past him as his mind thought back to the summer days when he would drive with the windows down and just enjoy the summer breeze rushing past him. This was one of the few happy memories he had in his dreary past life but this new world had so much more to offer him as a joyful smile crept across his face.

The meadows seemed so much calmer with the lack of the miasma of the feral Goblins, life seeming to come into full bloom as he took a deep breath and sighed. He had tied back his hair into a ponytail to ignore the interference of it while riding and using it as an excuse to not yet cut his hair, even with their rest time being quite lengthy he had never actually taken the time to hold a blade against his own skin. Tamir would tease him for appearing a bit effeminate but the scathing comments from a disembodied voice were typically ignored.

Max's rest time was spent studying his surroundings and coming more in tune with his senses as the new heightened state of them was interesting, to say the least. If he was to stay calm and quiet, listening to the call of nature he could hear everything five miles (eight km) out with ease, from the movements of deer or bleating of goats. His sense of smell was comparable to Midnight's own as his olfactory receptors seemed to not only multiply but increase in strength. His eyesight was also more refined seeing as he could see almost ten miles before things got less focused and harder to see.

His sense of taste however was much more interesting seeing that he could divulge the exact herbs, flavors and break a meal down to its basic components with ease with his tongue being untrained in culinary arts. His meals were much more interesting now as he saw each dish as a different flavor to try and better refine his skills but all of this time on the meadow had grown dull. Nothing seemed to happen, his life felt like it was coming to a crawl as when he rested he found himself twiddling away at a piece of wood, shaping some stone or practicing his variety of skills.

The call for adventure and something to get his blood pumping made his heart yearn for more encounters like John and his men but at the same time he felt like it was best to avoid them due to the strenuous nature they imposed on him, not to mention endangering his livelihood. The last thing Max wanted was a boring life, to have a farm somewhere was something he lacked a desire in.

Time seemed to come to a stumble, ten days of galloping through the meadows, sleeping on the ground, and accomplishing almost nothing all came to an end as the land began to shift. Trees became scarce, roots jutted out from the water and the earth and land became blanketed in water, the smell of methane pockets becoming potent. They had reached Furred Marsh or at least the outskirts of the Marsh. Max scouted about curiously in an effort to make sure nothing was going to be a problem.

Nothing seemed unnatural or odd but that was only the surface of everything, Max had no idea just what this marsh had in store for him as he looked about curiously, unaware of what lurked beneath the muddy waters. Midnight pressed on, her master needed passage and a ride, and she wasn't going to let some water keep her from trudging on as she waded through the swamps, not caring if Max was ready or not as she splashed about and kept walking

Everything was calm for about three miles (almost five km) when Max noticed that some nearby lake had violent movements happening below its murky surface, something underneath fighting another unknown creature. as Max reached for his sword. The moment his hand touched the hilt a Lizardfolk jumped from the depths, fangs bearing down at Max.