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Swords and a Shortage of Sorcery

In a land where magic is scarce, mythical monsters and sorcerers are a rare sight. They command power feared throughout the land. Only someone with a genius intellect, magical power, or divine heritage could stand a chance of defeating them in single combat. Luckily for him, Derik Johnson possesses none of those qualities. A humble watchman pressed into service after being teleported from his evening commute; he is burdened with terrible luck and ends up fighting said creatures. Derik will have to use his wits, allies, and equipment wisely to survive. But if all else fails. He can always use his own legs—To hotfoot it out of there!

MovieGum · Fantasia
Classificações insuficientes
37 Chs

Hero's Downfall

"So, I was wondering if you wanted to see the sights once we got back? Explore the city or somesuch." Gonzalez said. He leaned over to hear the response of Iris.

"With me? Erhm, I was planning on returning to Silesia after we got back." Iris replied.

"Oh, I suppose to must be a little homesick. Silesia is a nice place that I am sure you would be elated to return to... is what I would say had I ever been there. You are missing out, young lady."

Steps sounded from the back of the carriage. "It looks like Titus has awoken!" They heard Montag shout.

Lina handed Gonzalez the reigns to the four-legged insectoids that pulled their cart. "Take over for a bit, please?"

"Only because you said please."

Iris entered the inside of the carriage through a hatch in the front.

Titus blinked open his eyes. His body lay sprawled out on a seat. The faint arrhythmic shaking of the cart signaled its traversal across the outer country roads. A ray of sun snuck in through the narrow slits in the sides of the carriage, and Titus shook his head, placing his left hand over his head. "Ugh," he slurred as his eyes adjusted to the interior of the carriage.

Derik stood over Titus, scrunching his neck fit under the ceiling. Montag stood beside Derik, talking to him.

Derik turned to Titus. "Hey, you. You're finally awake."

Montag took a seat alongside Titus as he leaned against the wall. "You took quite a hit back there. I did what I could. Despite being quite skilled, I am only human."

Lina's voice sounded from the front of the vehicle. "Erhm, is he ok?" she asked, poking her head through the hatch.

"He is lucky he survived, but he should be fine now," Montag said.

"That's good. I'm glad," she said as she took the reigns back from Gonzalez.

"Isn't lucky to survive a bit of an oxymoron?" Gonzalez remarked.

Titus tried to sit upright but winced in pain as he attempted to support himself with his arm. He rested his head on the wooden planks that made up the carriage.

"Where are we?" he asked.

"We are clocking out. That is to say— we are finishing our mission. That is to say— we are heading back to Palatine now," Derik said.

"What he means to say is we made it to Melilla. The tunnels were quite... restrictive, but nothing unable to get used to," Montag said.

"Speak for yourself, that place was creepy," Derik said. "Though, it wasn't all bad. There was functioning plumbing which, as far as I'm concerned, makes that the most technologically advanced place we've been. Funny, living beneath the ground and in the mountains doesn't exactly give the appearance of a real civilization."

"Are you saying you braved the sprawling depths of Melilla while I was stuck, like this?" Titus motioned to himself. "I'm ashamed."

"You really didn't miss much. We didn't explore that deep; the tunnels get too narrow to accommodate vehicles as you go further in, so it was easy to find what we needed."

"Well, I think saying easy is being slightly dishonest," Montag said. "You did have some misgivings about our purchase."

"I don't see the problem. Those things are creepy. Plus, Iris is the only one with enough riding experience to even handle the things."

"You mean the carrion beetles?"

"Whatever they call them. I was never a fan of insects, and prior experiences didn't help that notion. Things look like an alien trying to masquerade as a stag beetle without ever having seen one," Derik said. "And don't you go acting all innocent either! You were babbling on and on about how buying this stuff was supporting the enemy! Not to mention getting us caught up in that protest, I was almost apprehended you know."

"Hmmph. If you did, at least you would have experience in the matter."

"Oh, that is low."

Titus buried his face with his healthy hand. "That all happened because of me. How dreadful. I don't know if I can bear returning to Palatine," Titus said.

"Oh yeh. Speaking of Palatine, are we there yet?" Derik shouted to the front of the carriage as a particularly rough batch of road rocked it.

"Yes, the exemplary quality of these roads clearly illustrates that we are near Palatine," Iris said.

"You are still the one with the map," Gonzalez replied.

"How am I always the map person. Haven't I proven my ineptitude already?" Derik twisted the map, peering at the pale yellow paper. "Not even close. I guess we should stop for the day." Derik knocked on the front wall of the carriage.

They stopped by the side of the road and began to set up camp. Montag helped Titus over to the campsite. "Let's get you down gently," Montag said.

As the group gathered and sat around the campfire, Montag went to redress Titus' arm.

"Holy. When we get back, you are going to have to get that arm looked at. It seems pretty banged up. Frankly, using pretty in any sense would probably be doing it a disservice," Gonzalez commented.

"That is horrible. I'm—I'm sorry that happened to you," Iris stated.

Montag finished redressing the wound and turned to Derik. "Will you join us for a drink this time, Derik? I have heard Melilla does make some of the finest alcohol on the continent."

"I'll have to pass. I don't want to go and get fatty liver now," Derik said.

"Ah, good idea. I'll get on that then," Gonzalez said.

"I didn't mean..." Derik sighed and sat next to Titus. He watched as the others drank around the fire anticipating the meal.

Titus reached for his journal and laid it on the dying wood that served as a bench. He tried to write something, but the words were incomprehensible.

"What about you. How bad do you think it is?" Titus asked Derik.

"From a range of 'I need healing' to on your deathbed, I would rate it as 'AH! I need a medic bag!" Derik said.

Titus shot him a confused look.

"I mean it looks really bad," Derik clarified.

"I came to try and live up to the character I once was. I suppose it is already past my prime. Now all I've done is drag you down," Titus said.

"Don't be that way. If you were useless, I wouldn't have any qualms about saying so. You might be a little too eager sometimes, but at the very least, you can at least rest easy knowing you contributed more than me."

"What will they think of me when I return?"

"Heroes in legends get injured and die all the time fighting things above their weight class. If anything, I think that just makes you an even more legendary figure." Derik patted Titus on the back. "Now, let's get some food and hit the hay. I take like, two hours to actually get to sleep by the time I lay down. I need to go to sleep now to wake up early tomorrow."

As Derik left, Titus pulled out the lion figurine from his belt. He swept his fingers over the mane of the statuette. Something felt off about the way it glowed in the moonlight. He gave it a hard stare and opened his pack, taking out a small case. Titus returned the figure to its container and stuffed it in his bag.