The Trip

Arthur stood behind the bus, his heart pounding in his chest as he watched the scene unfold. The woman's anguished cries filled the air as she retrieved the eagle's lifeless body, cradling it gently in her arms.

Suddenly, the man's deep voice cut through the silence like a knife.

"I know you're there, hiding behind that bus," the man's voice boomed. "Come out slowly, and don't try anything foolish."

Arthur's breath caught in his throat as he weighed his options. With trembling hands, he began to inch forward, his movements cautious and deliberate.

The thought of engaging in yet another confrontation, especially against two individuals who seemed to thrive in this hostile environment, filled him with apprehension. He knew that his chances of emerging victorious were slim, given his exhausted state. Arthur resigned himself to the necessity of finding a peaceful resolution, if one could be reached.

Approaching them cautiously, he kept a close eye on the two figures.

They were cloaked in long, worn black robes with hoods obscuring their faces. The man gripped a menacing machete in his right hand, its blade glinting in the dim light, while the woman had a hunting knife secured at her waist. In her hands, she cradled the limp body of the black eagle, its glossy feathers now matted with blood.

Arthur grappled with conflicting emotions as he approached. He was determined to avoid violence, but he was responsible for the death of the woman's eagle, even though it had attacked him first.

Despite his worries, he tried to remain calm as he got closer, keeping an eye on the couple for any signs of hostility.

The woman shouted, "Sergan, kill him!"

Sergan, whom Arthur now identified by his name, lowered his hand and said to the woman, "Tsss, don't get ahead of yourself."

Sergan regarded Arthur closely, his gaze piercing. "Do you belong to a faction?" he asked.

At the question, the woman's gaze shifted from hatred to fear as she looked at him.

Arthur noticed the change. He remembered the voice telling him that he belonged to the Lust faction. However, he wasn't sure if this faction inspired enough respect or fear for these individuals to spare his life. Lust didn't exactly evoke something powerful at first glance.

He maintained eye contact with Sergan, not rushing to answer. Given the circumstances, he preferred to avoid revealing which faction he belonged to.

"Yes, I belong to a faction," Arthur replied.

Sergan, adopting a more respectful tone and offering a slight smile, lowered the tip of his machete. "May I inquire as to which faction?" he asked.

Arthur replied without hesitation, "I'd prefer not to reveal that information."

Sergan nodded understandingly. "Of course, it's only natural to be cautious out here," he remarked, his expression remaining amiable.

"By the way," Sergan continued, "would you be willing to accompany us? We're heading to the nearest settlement, and from there, you can make your way to your faction."

Arthur noticed the woman's lack of reaction as Sergan offered to help him, a stark contrast to her previous desire for Sergan to kill him. Finding it peculiar, Arthur concealed his thoughts and smiled, replying, "Thank you, I'll quietly follow you."

<You have persuaded two humans to believe in an intention contrary your actual one.>

+ 0.1 Charisma.

Arthur followed the two individuals as they led him to a sleek gray all-terrain vehicle parked nearby. The vehicle looked well-maintained despite the harsh conditions of the wasteland.

Sergan held the door open for Arthur, gesturing for him to take the front passenger seat. Arthur obliged, offering a nod as he settled into the seat. Meanwhile, the woman positioned herself in the rear seat directly behind Arthur.

Sergan climbed into the driver's seat. With a turn of the ignition key, the engine roared to life.

Arthur fastened his seatbelt, glancing over to notice that Sergan had not done the same.

"Shouldn't you buckle up?" Arthur asked, nodding towards Sergan's unfastened seatbelt.

Sergan shrugged nonchalantly. "I've been driving these roads for years. Never felt the need for it."

Sergan glanced at the bar on Arthur's knees, "you won't need it where we're going."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Would you leave your machete behind?" he retorted.

With a shrug, Sergan relented. "Suit yourself," he replied.

"How far is the settlement?" Arthur inquired, trying to gauge the distance.

"We'll be there in less than two hours," Sergan replied, his eyes focused on the road ahead.

As the vehicle sped along the rough terrain, Arthur watched as Sergan skillfully navigated around debris and rocks.

"Hey, Sergan, what exactly are you doing out here?" Arthur inquired, his curiosity piqued.

"We're traders," Sergan replied. "It's a risky profession, but necessary for facilitating trade between settlements and larger cities."

"Where are your goods then?" Arthur inquired.

"We were planning to purchase them from a settlement farther away, but we'll do that later. Right now, our priority is to drop you off at the nearest settlement," Sergan explained.

"Thank you," Arthur replied.

Changing the subject, Sergan remarked, "You know my name, but I don't know yours."

"Arthur," he replied. "By the way, could you tell me more about the factions?"

Sergan responded in a soft voice, "I'm afraid I'm not the most qualified to speak on the matter. After all, I'm just a simple merchant."

Observing Sergan's lack of surprise at his limited knowledge, Arthur realized that Sergan knew faction members could be uninformed. Arthur mused, "Not as ignorant as you imply."

"But you must have some knowledge," Arthur insisted.

"Hmm, indeed," Sergan conceded. "The members of the factions are all endowed with strange abilities. And I am convinced that you too possess an extraordinary gift."

Sergan said this, his gaze fixed on Arthur, then he smiled warmly and let out a hearty laugh.

Arthur met Sergan's gaze, returning the warm smile, before both of them shared a laugh together.

Suddenly, Arthur forcefully pressed down on the accelerator, overtaking Sergan's foot.

Spotting a large boulder on the side of the path a little further ahead, he sharply jerked the steering wheel before Sergan could react.

The speed propelled the vehicle towards the rock with uncontrollable ferocity. Sergan, eyes wide with horror, watched helplessly as the inevitable approached.

In a deafening crash, the window shattered into thousands of sharp fragments, raining down like deadly blades. The metal, under the relentless pressure of the collision, tore apart.

Sergan's body was flung against the rock with terrifying force. His bones cracked, his flesh tore, and his blood spurted.

The violence of the impact flipped the car. Metal ground against asphalt.

The car was propelled by its own momentum.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the car came to a shuddering stop, its twisted frame resting precariously on its roof.

Sergan's limbs were now scattered inside and outside the vehicle.

Arthur grimaced in pain as he clutched his ribs, feeling a sharp ache radiating through his side. Despite the agony, a sense of relief washed over him as he tentatively assessed his condition.

"At least nothing's broken," he thought to himself.

<You have compelled obedience from a human.>

+ 1 Charisma.

With caution, Arthur reached for the buckle of his seatbelt, feeling every movement amplified by the inverted position of the car. He used it as a guide, avoiding the sudden fall towards the ceiling of the cabin.

A low grunt escaped his lips as he finally released the seatbelt, a wave of relief mingling with the lingering pain in his ribs.

With caution, Arthur reached beneath the passenger seat, feeling around until his fingers closed around the metal bar that had become wedged there during the chaos. Despite the discomfort in his ribs, he gritted his teeth and pulled it free.

He tried to open the front doors, but they were jammed shut. Resolved to find a way out, he slid the metal bar along the edges of the door window, clearing any debris and flattening protruding shards of metal.

He then let the bar drop outside, where it landed with a dull metallic clang.

Bracing himself, Arthur cautiously maneuvered through the window opening.

As he progressed, a sharp, searing pain tore through his back. It was the result of a deep cut caused by an irregularity in the metal, despite his meticulous efforts to flatten it. The pain gripped him, halting his stride.

Gritting his teeth against the pain, he pushed through, the adrenaline coursing through his veins driving him forward. Finally, with one last effort, he emerged from the wreckage, his body battered and bruised.

Arthur gazed towards the rear seats, where he noticed the woman weakly attempting to unbuckle her seatbelt. It was evident that she lacked the strength to do so effectively, her movements feeble and uncoordinated.

Arthur approached the rear door and attempted to open it. It budged slightly before jamming. He forced it open with a violent push, the door emitting a sharp, grating sound as it finally gave way.

Arthur looked at the woman, who weakly turned her head in his direction and attempted to speak.