~Upon a Ridge He Rested As He Went Along His Way~

Clint's brows rose in curiosity as a white light surrounded him, glowing from his everything as he was surrounded by white streams of energy. Then—suddenly—the white turned to gold and he felt weightless.

*Thump*

The next second he felt gravity return and he landed heavily on the dirt. The sun, alongside everything else, assaulted his senses.

He could smell shit everywhere, alongside the flowers and grass. He could even taste it. He could hear the rustling of every blade of grass near him in the wind and felt every different wind current on his skin. He could see everything around him in extreme detail, being able to see a single ant crawling on a tree that was easily over fifty meters away from him. He could even see more than that, as weird, foreign colors also assaulted his perception. He guessed that this was Ultraviolet and Infrared light, which he was able to see now.

Despite the massive increase in perception, which would probably be unbearable to most, Clint was able to adapt pretty quickly, thanks to his newly enhanced brain which could adapt and change faster than it should be able to.

"Huh, maybe increasing my senses this much wasn't the best idea. I'd rather not have to literally taste shit all the time. Is it really this bad for dogs? How I pity all of them that have to live in cities; even with my brain bein' better, I doubt I'd be able to adapt to that…" After thinking about for a second, CLint simply shrugged.

"Ah well, you live and you learn. If there's ever a next time, I won't increase my senses, since it's obviously a bad idea." He then looked around at the grass clearing he had landed in; one surrounded by tall, thin trees.

"Now, all's I have to do is find civilization… if it exists, that is…" With that said he began walking in the direction of the shit smell.

Where there was shit, there was probably humans.

'Man, it would suck if this is one of them primitive worlds, like cavemen and such. Even with my cleaning magic, it would be annoyin' as hell to do anything without modern tools. At the very least, please be a middle-aged society…' He thought as he walked.

It wasn't long before he heard the sound of feet shuffling, children laughing, and other town-associated noises. He also could smell humans… and other things. He didn't know what they were, but he knew he had never smelt them before. Luckily, he was already getting used to his sense of smell, so his brain had started filtering out the smell of shit, making it background noise.

'Maybe it ain't as bad for dogs as I thought… Or maybe it is and I just have it good due to my super-brain? Doesn't matter, I need to focus on that new smell. Those are likely not humans… so maybe some native creature to wherever I am? Also, civilization! And by the sound of it, probably at least in the iron age, judging by all the metal clinking I'm hearin'. Though, it's probably not too advanced since I'm not hearin' any electronics and such. It's also a pretty small village, probably a few hundred people tops.' Clint finished his analysis quickly thanks to his new high-speed thinking.

As he neared the village, he made sure he was presentable and had a tight grip on Eastwood. Didn't want to look like some crazed barbarian coming out of the woods, but he also didn't want to go in without a little bit of threat in his aura. The first would make everyone attack with 99% certainty, and not being ready was just stupid as there was a chance they would attack him anyway.

When he walked out of the trees though, he realized that he might have underestimated just how powerful his senses were.

He wasn't even close to the town! It was at least a mile away from what he could tell, nestled between a couple mountains and a bunch of rocks, with one side of the town overlooking what was probably a small cliff, but he couldn't tell from his angle.

It was then that he noticed all the rocks. Everything was rocky! He seemed to be on a plateau of sorts, which was on top of another plaeau, which was surrounded by mountains. His plateau was above the village, a cliff just a couple hundred meters away from his position, overlooking the village.

The plateaus, both his and the villages, alongside the mountains and hills around him, were covered in grass with rocks jutting out everywhere. His plateau also seemed to be the only place with a forest, as the village's plateau was mostly just grass and rock with a couple of trees here and there.

'Well, maybe I really should have considered this whole enhanced perception business before I went and did it. While it's impressive that I can hear people doin' stuff all the way over there, and even see them doin' it in detail, these senses might cause me to over or underestimate something during a fight, which could be deadly. I need to make sure I stay out of fights for a couple of days as I get used to these senses.' Clint thought as he vaulted over a rock and reached the cliff of his plateau.

Then he looked into the distance, appreciating the horizon. "Whew, what a view." He whistled quietly under his breath.

Then he noticed something. 'There sure are a lot of mountains around these parts, no matter where I look there's a mountain range of some sort. And that one over there,' He focused on a particularly large mountain that stuck into the sky like a beacon, 'That one's got to be at least a couple hundred miles away, yet it still looks massive. I wonder how tall it is? If this is a different world, then maybe it's this place's version of Everest? Could be interestin' to check it out later.'

Then he refocused his attention on the town. 'But I can worry about that later, for now, let's go check out this mini village. I'm seein' about a hundred buildin's, so that means that about… what was it, 80%? 90%? Ah, I don't remember. A lot of them are residential but not all of them. So, I'll go with 80 until proven otherwise. I'm sensin' at least a few hundred people, so the families here are either very big or somethin' down there ain't right.'

'This is a medieval era world—or village, at least—so there's a good chance that the village is being occupied by soldiers or somethin' or other. Bandits maybe? That would mean that whoever governs this place is terrible at its job though. Either way, I doubt the residents are gonna be fond of them, at least, unless this is some propaganda country that brainwashes their people into thinking soldiers and kings and such are great. If not though, they probably won't appreciate my arrival…' Clint shook his head at that thought.

'I don't want to antagonize a bunch of random civilians, they don't deserve that—not when they're already givin' up their shit for whoever's occupyin' them, but I'll have to impose anyway. I need supplies and a map, at the very least. I also need to find some tools to make Eastwood a holster. I'll repay them by doin' somethin' nice for em'. If it is bandits down there, then all's I gotta do is kill a few, that should be enough payment.' With that thought, Clint put Eastwood in his pants pocket and began climbing down the cliff.

With all the rocks, it was much easier to find a foothold to climb down, so he was able to get down pretty quickly. When he reached the bottom, he jumped off and did a roll when he landed. He probably would have been fine from the height, especially with his new body, but old habits die hard; he engrained that move too deeply into his mind when he was practicing parkour.

When he was back on his feet, he let out a grunt and stretched. "Man, nothin' like a bit of climbin' to wake the body up. Kinda like when you get some new shoes, you gotta run round' with em' for a little while to get used to it."

Then he set off at a leisurely pace toward the village.

He could have jogged there—or ran even—without breaking a sweat, but he was in no hurry. It's been a while since he was out in nature, so he wanted to appreciate the sights for a little longer as he walked.

Unfortunately, good things never last, and halfway through his journey he was ever so rudely interrupted by some growling.

"*Sigh* You know, I sensed you a while ago, and was gonna let you go, I don't like hurtin' animals if I can help it, but if you really want to attack me… then so be it," Clint said to the thing that had been stalking him since he got off the cliff.

He had no idea what it was, but he knew it was big—at least as big as a horse—and he knew that it had claws. Maybe a big mountain lion, or one of them giant wolves?

He was wrong…

*Roar*

*Bang*

The second the creature roared and charged out of the bushes, Eastwood was out of Clint's pocket and firing.

He looked at the smoking barrel with pride. "Seems my quickdraw skills aren't rusty after all. I was worried that the lack of a holster would hinder me, but I guess not."

He then looked at his kill, which turned out to be…

"Is that a fuckin' Sabre Tooth Tiger!? Where the hell am I?" Clint couldn't help but ask as he walked up to the corpse, wide-eyed.

Turning it over, he examined the body.

'This things a beefy-boy too, at least as big as a horse and as muscular as a normal tiger. If the things on Earth were this big, then how in any hell did my caveman ancestors manage to survive? Also, why was he so close to a village? Don't most animals tend to avoid us?' Clint thought as he picked the corpse up with one arm.

"You know, it may not have been a fair fight, but you were the one that attacked me, and I won, so I think I'll take your coat as my spoil of war. I won't let the rest of ya go to waste though, that would be disrespectful. I'll sell the rest in town and use some of your leather to make a holster for Eastwood." Clint told the body as he sent a silent 'good luck' to the soul on its way to the afterlife.

'This is a male, luckily, so I probably don't have to worry about leavin' a bunch of orphaned kittens. Tigers normally don't care about their young, and I doubt these guys are any different. It's a good thing too since that means that any kittens probably won't grow up and hunt me down for revenge. I think I remember reading about that happening once…' It was then that he realized exactly what he was holding.

A Sabre Tooth Tiger, as big as a horse and packed full of muscle—meaning it had to weigh at least a ton, and he was holding it with one hand… casually… with no strain whatsoever…

"Pft… 'at least lift a car' my ass! If this thing feels like lifting a T-shirt up, then a car probably feels like lifting a giant styrofoam block. I think I may have overdone it with the strength… just a bit. Ha! Oh well, I doubt this can be a bad thing." Clint said to himself as he slung the body over his shoulder and continued walking.

This time there were no interruptions, and he was able to reach the fence of the villages within just a few minutes.

'Huh, no farms here? That's weird. That would mean that this place relies on trade to survive, and judging by all the mountains, the smell of coal, the constant sound of metal hittin' stuff, this place is probably a minin' town. If they rely on trade for food though, it's even more likely that they'll be pissed with all them occupiers here. Well, maybe there's a lake or somethin' over the cliff that I haven't seen yet? Nah, I doubt it. I would've smelt it by now.' Clint's thoughts were interrupted by a man in silver armor walking up to him.

The armor was obviously steel, covering his chest, stomach, shoulders, back, arms, and legs, while leaving the rest to be covered by leather. It had a leather (hide?) skirt studded with iron and a helmet that looked straight out of a Viking movie, horns and all.

"You there! What are you doing here? The only thing in that direction is the shrine… do I need to call the vigilants? Or maybe I should take care of you myself…" The man asked with a rude and 'threatening' tone. Clint decided he didn't like him.

"Well mister, I don't know what shrine you're talkin' about, but I can assure you that I haven't been near any shrine. I was just out huntin' and got a little turned around in that forest up there, see? You know how it is, all the rocks make it hard to tell where you're goin' sometimes. Anyhow, I eventually came upon this place after a few days of travilin'. Do'ya mind tellin' a stranger where he is?" Clint asked, keeping his cool and trying to calm the situation.

The man seemed to nod a bit in understanding when he mentioned the rocks but went stiff when he asked about where he was. "What, you don't even know where you are? Figures, those other knife-ears are bad enough, but now we've got more incompetent elves running around. What are you, a High Elf? A Wood Elf? I can't tell the difference."

'You're makin' it real hard to stay polite buddy, but I've talked to worse, a racist like you won't break me.' Clint thought before he answered. "I'm just a hunter, mister, and I don't know the local area all that well since I just got here a few months ago. I didn't even know more of my 'kind' were around these parts… shows what I know, am I right?"

The man barked out a laugh. "At least you know your place Elf, wouldn't want to dirty my blade because you turned out to be snooty like those other knife-ears. And for your information, you're in 'the great town' of Karthwasten, if you want to call this shit hole that. All it's good for is it's mine, otherwise, my employer wouldn't bother sending us here. You probably hail from some primitive cabin in the woods, don't you? I've heard the rumors of your kind. Savages that eat their own kind, that true? You coming here to eat a few of the locals?"

He looked at the Sabre Tooth Tiger slung over Clint's shoulder with a greedy glint in his eye. "You know, if you're here to eat some of the locals, what would you need that for? Why don't you give that to me, as payment for letting you into the village…"

'Yeah, I'm done. That's all the info I'm gettin' out of this guy.' Clint smiled brightly, "I'm afraid I can't do that Mister. Ma said I shouldn't give anything to brain-dead retards, lest they trip on it and die. You don't want to die, do ya Mister?"

The words completely went against the tone Clint was using, jarring the man. It took a few moments for him to even realize he had just been insulted.

The man sneered and grit his teeth, unsheathing his blade. "Should of figured you were just as arrogant as the rest of them. What, you think that just because you're big and all that you can beat me? HA! You don't even have a sword! Big arms can only get you so far, knife-ear…"

Before he could do anything though, another man arrived on the scene. "Baldr! Stop! You're not a guard here, you don't get to decide who is executed. You're people are already aren't welcome here unless you want them on thinner ice, I suggest you put that blade down and leave."

The man—Baldr, scoffed but sheathed his blade nonetheless. "You're lucky, Ainethach, that you own this place, otherwise I'd cut you down for speaking to me like that. Fine, you can keep the damned elf, just means you'll be welcoming another spy into your midst, like the fool you are."

With that Baldr turned and left, grumbling the whole way.

Ainethach, a tall man with brown hair and sideburns for days, turned to Clint. "Well I hope you're happy elf, now you've got people out for your head. Should have just kept your mouth shut."

Clint raised his hands in a placating gesture, "I'm aware, but I ain't gonna let anyone insult me to my face like that, then try to shake me down. I ain't a fool. If I have to fight a few people, then oh well, it is what it is. Now, are you the mayor of this town Mister? I hate to bother you, but I need to find a place to sell this here Sabre Tooth's parts. Could ya point me toward a butcher, or maybe a leather worker?"

Ainethach just shrugged at Clint's statement. "If that's how you want to live, then go right ahead. The butcher is up the road here, it's the one with the white tent in front of it. The leatherworker is near the Fenn's Gulch Mine, it's the one with the smelter next to it."

"Why thank you, Mister! That's mighty kind of ya," Clint said, then nearly face-palmed. "Ah, that fool must have really gotten to me! I never forget my manners like this. My name's Clint, I'm a hunter who got a little turned around in the mountains." He introduced himself and extended his hand.

Ainethach smiled a bit at that and grabbed the offered hand with a firm grip. "Nice to meet you, Clint, I'm Ainethach, the owner of Karthwasten and it's mine's." Then, with a strength someone of his size probably shouldn't possess, he pulled Clint forward a bit with a serious stare. "Now, you stay out of trouble in my town, alright? We've got enough problems to worry about with those mercenaries running around, we don't need more."

Clint let himself be pulled forward, as he had no reason to resist. "Of course Mister, I won't make any trouble in this fine town of yours if I can help it. I'm just gonna sell this, then buy a bit of supplies and a map, before I'm on my way home."

Ainethach nodded. "You make sure of that, the Inn's filled with all of those mercenaries anyway, so sorry to say, but you'll have nowhere to stay if you don't leave by nightfall."

Clint turned to leave as he said, "Don't you worry, I'll keep that in mind."