Thursday, March 28, 2024
Freedom of such a Low Bar
Wednesday, March 27, 2024
Short Isekai March 27 2024 part 3
PART 3
Her name was Irilia but Wren seems to have a problem saying her name. She would look at him as though they had a long history together, which he learned when she called him
“Kaleen, sunspouse. Is that you?”
“Sorry, do I know you?” Wren said with the realization that this body and memories he has are not entirely his and this woman was significant in this persons life. She seemed to accept it with grace, but it broke his heart seeing her smile but never seeing it in her eyes.
“May I know your name sir?” She asked having resigned to the loss.
“I remember being called Wren. Who are you?”
When the introductions were made - She explained that she was his former spouse, almost twenty winters ago when their children’s children were now seeking their own families. The other elfin ladies was Thiria, and Dashil. As Irilia was the tallest, Thiria was slighter and more hurt and tired, still incredibly beautiful like models and actresses in their difficult to guage 20s and 30s where Wren came from. Dashil was not as remarkable as the two other elves, and Dashil seemed younger and a resilient face - with an intense brows, dark lips and narrow chin. The other two women were more human look yet still remarkable, for humans. Sain and Thine were a bit shorter, reaching only Wren’s collar but had long curly hair and round bright eyes. Sain’s hair was reddish brown while Thines hair was black. Both had rounder features as compared to the more chiseled elegant features and darker sun burnt complexions.
Wren expected to be dumbfounded with this many attractive women, but something about the clarity of him mind bothered him. The kind of clarity that made him feel asexual - except for Irilia - something about her made him attracted to her even if he doesnt know anything about her. In fact as he spoke and fumbled, the pauses and obsessive pedantry of him previous life didnt seem to interrupt his thoughts. He seemed to simply be quiet and engaging when he could tell someone needed to speak. He could see the Sain and Thine light up, he could see their pupils open and the focus when he looked at them interested in what they had to say. The intrusive thoughts that would plague him in his previous life did not need the attention. There was no uncertainty that required other peoples empathy and concern to raise his self-esteem in the action he wanted to take. There was an incredible amount of peace in his mind - and concentration.
He could see Irilia’ and Thiriia’s airs. There was meaning he could understand with a few of their words. Dashil was not as honed yet the difference was minor and perceptible for Wren, but it didn't matter. It was merely a detail he observed and did not recall unless he needed it - a detail that made him realize Dashil was half-elfin. That she was not full-blooded and seemed to subordinate herself to the two elfin women. He knew this like it was as plain as knowing the tree from the shadows of its leaves.
The reverence Sain and Thine gave the other three women was magnified by the care and application of recovery magic they gave to them. Sain and Thine were instructed and aided by the women in recovery as well as survival. Irilia and Thiria looked like actresses to Wren, but when it came to the camp - its care, protection, and security they spoke with authority and certainty. Ordering and informing each other of the conditions and the preparations needed. Wren’s body moved without thinking in a look made by Irilia and while Wren didnt understand why he did move the way he did, she seemed to smile out of his peripheral vision - the half second it took her to return to her work when she would see him and their eyes would meet. Thiria and Dashil had to be more explicit with him, and he had to actively ask for what they needed. Sain and Thine had to be asked and inferred what they needed, and had to give them the attention to be confident that what they had to say was important to him.
He scouted, hunted game, found water, cut wood for self-bows and flint and iron arrows, and diverted dangerous animals. Irilia and Thria taught the more junior women how to dress, set camp, where and how to relieve themselves, prepare food with the meager resources they had, draw bows, use a knife and wrestle men much stronger than them. Wren realized that the scissor lock he used wasnt his skill, but from Irilia and a move she played on him so long ago.
Wren helped break the mail into vests good for 3 of them, and the boiled leather cuirass was cut and sown to fit the other women. Thiria recovered much of her strength, she had to use her blood magic to recover and their calorie intake had to be raised. They used the blood magic to reshape their ears making them less effective but blending them with the humans more. They were all armed and gaining proficiency, Sain and Thine were learning to use blood magic to keep up with them and the calories melted away with the effort. Wren was gutting probably 60lbs of meat every other night - the women used blood magic to drain and prepare the meat - drying and preserving the food and impregnating the meat with the iron and salt rich blood without any water. Nothing went to waste, and the skin turned to leather. The only thing the magic didnt do was char the meat for that mayard grilled effect.
In their travel, they decided to continue to the northern western direction, to Asthoros. Irilia and especially Thiria wanted to know how the slavers knew of their village and their summoning ritual. Dashil, Sain and Thine got swept up by the certainty of the two women. Wren saw the fear of the three other women - their trauma. They had very little chance to survive and march back 2000 kms back where they came from. Irilia and Thiria had grandchildren that she didnt want to be threatened by a slavers raid. Thiria, particularly wanted revenge and had been collecting toxic and poisonous plants for her arsenal as they traveled, Irilia focused more on the education and training of the younger women.
The clues of the civilization was clear as the dense woods disappeared, with sparse woodlots and copses, a kind of human-cultivated woodland. They were sparse as they soon found themselves in a stone road 5-6 cars wide by Wren’s reckoning. By this time, they appeared as vaguely armed militia - the women hid their female forms and appeared more like men in heavy clothes and some armor. The fires and smells of the civilization grew more frequent till a 10 meter, 30ft, tall wall 15 feet thick was across the horizon. They could see the minarets and temple spires, they can hear the prayers and bells and gongs, as well the bustle of other travellers leaving and arriving in the city. Over the gate a statue of some patron deity - an ox man with an impossibly wide set of horns like a Guar or Aurox, but with a lower jaw and face of a man and hands that could hold three or four adults. They realized they were arriving by the southern gate. It didnt escape the notice of Wren the kill holes, a dozen archers with iron banded and nocked bows. By the way the wind would blow the lames of the armor and coif, Wren figured it to be boiled leather instead of steel - but the discoloration means they would mix metal lames in critical areas and leather for the rest.
The city was unusually clean, with roads that made of stone, Wren inferred if they were wealthy enough to make the roads to the city in stone then definitely the city would be have extensive stone work and it was marvelous. From the cracks and the shaping they were using roman concrete, and there were cart tracks and the roads was angled for water to flow to the drains. They could see several work gangs clearing the sludge from the drains, with the stone and ceramic preforated tiles stacked neatly to one side. The smells were comparable to a modern city, and less like what Wren would expect a medieval city state would be. After the wide roads the houses would line up the streets and there would be smaller side streets a hundred or steps intervals. The buildings on the side of the road were stacked high at 5 or so stories with thick arches and columns creating an Arcade, covered walkways, while beast drawn carts dominated the streets.
The buildings around the arcades seemed to be continuously in use and being built. Construction materials were stacked and guarded, and it seemed a building was being repaired, renewed and embellished. The sound of carpentry and workers was constant, as the sound of peddlers selling food up and down the arcade was continuous. Some side streets were open toilets with people talking, defecating and eating and drinking. One particularly interesting sight was a public bath beside the Inns, Taverns and a travellers guild offering lodging, and when asking for directions for lodging Wren discovered there was a Hospitia near the western section of the city.
Children playing and trying to steal from them was a welcome distraction, it was easy for Irilia, Thiria, and Wren to notice them. Naturally Wren stayed behind everyone, while Irilia lead the way and Thiria stayed in the more crowded side of the road. The flow of the crowd meant that Wren had to raise his voice, he spoke rapidly in codes that came naturally for him and Irilia, Thiria joined in, Dashil explained to Sain and Thine. They soon understood and began to ask, and Wren enjoyed explaining what he saw - pointing out the Thieves, the slavers, and the gangs and their search for marks. It was easy to see when your eyes let you see someone pupils and expressions in detail a hundred steps away, as well as able to take in the body language and purpose of everyone adjacent. Wren can explain it but Sain and Thine cannot see as far unless they used more blood magic to reshape the sharpness of their eyes. His utility made the women give Wren a look he recognized when Irilia was really pleased with him and bit her lip, which moved Wren in a way. Especially when they caught of guard merchants, workers, who were happy to help - and gave them sincere thanks with their gaze.
The movement of the crowd and the people they saw in the Travellers guild was the best, according to Irilia. Wren found they all had their trade offs, but it seemed Irilia was interested in information, and the guild had a dedicated reception desk. Wren can’t help but wince and smile broadly at how cliche this was, a shudder that Sain noticed. Irilia told them to wait and take a seat, and Thiria began to order boiled water and tea - negotiating with the server who seemed to be paying rent to the guild to sell her wares to those who waited and stayed in the guild.
A peculiar device was used to take and pay the order: small wooden cards with drawings for the orders are placed in a locked box that exposed the top card, with a special colored card was inserted to cancel or redo the order can be noticed by Wren. Thiria let gave the server the change and in the time everyone has relaxed and the conversation about the city became more intense the food was served.
Wren’s pedantic side found its way in the conversation, teaching the Sain and Thine and sometimes Dashil, who hid her interest well, about his observations of the city and the people. Wren was able to identify their trades, and their economic status, and learned alot about the life of the girls when he tried to know the equivalent profession in their village. There were many specialists in this city, and the cost of food and lodging was very expensive - in values of bronze and silver the women would take ages to save and earn. When Thiria got their hot water and snacks, she placed the purifying herbs and spices that would make them pleasant with her sleight of hand. Thiria would correct Wrens observations, and even contest them - which delighted Wren and made her more senior wise and mysterious to other women. Despite being across the room from Irilia when she was talking with the clerk - Wren, Thiria and Dashil can follow some of the conversation. They can also see the bronze coins Irilia slipped the clerk as the clerk apologized profusely to the other customers answering Irilia’s questions. The Sain and Thine finally noticed the three are able to listen into and follow Irilia’s questions and let them into the conversation, Irilia attention to detail and discretion filled all the others with confidence as she mesmerized the clerk with promises and seductions.
By the time she returned, everyone was in their third order and she quietly started eating beside them. Thiria as a formality confirmed the details as Irilia confirmed or clarified her discussion with the clerk while looking intently at her meal. Irilia was able to get an audience with the guild master, and they would be able to get letters of endorsement - particularly for some favors regarding their abilities. Wren was surprised Irilia seduced the clerk, particularly a promise of helping her and her partner conceive. Arts of seduction was a rarely used skill and the forwardness revealed the desperation and, and hopefully the sensitivity of the matter aided the discretion.
Wren was going to be overconfident until Dashil’s averted her gaze from the direction of the threat and Wren had to indirectly observe it by eliminating all the sounds that came everywhere else and focusing on what sounds can be heard from a one way viewing perforated wall. Irilia and Thiria picked on caution of the two - and began a conversation with Sain and Thine to relax their body language.
Irilia had to explain a lot of their history and threats on the way to Wren, in the nights they slept little. There were others who could use the blood magic they used called the Matriarchs, Priesteses, and Witches. The matriarchs worked and aided the nobles to enhance their natural talent and abilities, through breeding and converting embryos and unborn to material to reshape flesh. Priestesses used healing and stigmata magic, the ability to heal and harm the body as well as paralyze and reshape bone and muscle. And the Witches who would manipulate others, plants, and creatures - to create concoctions and thralls. Some human men can also perform these feats but not as effectively as women who had the blood moon to aid their power. They call themselves warlocks and blood mages. All are capable of purification, minor alterations, and prevention of disease and acceleration of healing and strengthening but the more powerful magics are best performed by the other professions who have spent more of their life mastering these arts.
Irlia’s knowledge is drawn from the memories she has taken from some of the dying to confirm, but most of it are from traders from the west they are now in. The knowledge she shared is broad enough to give Wren structure, but not detailed and restrictive as to hamper is independent assessment of a threat and risk. During these conversations, Irilia half expected to argue with him, when Wren tried to understand how she knew all this. It seemed like something she did a lot with Kaleen.
They moved carefully in the room they paid for, and after removing the bed bugs and parasites - they went to sleep - wishing they could go to the baths if it werent for the fact that they had to conceal their gender and species. It was much more noisy than the wilderness, and the sound of people still working can be heard despite the lateness of the hour. Irilia left and Wren followed her after a hundred steps behind. Irilia met up with the Clerk named Sana, a woman who has had many failed carriages since her 3rd child. Two people, non-descript, walking at night in the Holy city was dangerous. The path Sana took avoided many streets and over a few unlocked doors of properties she knew the owners of. She would apologize and they would let her pass through their property.
Wren could not take those paths, and had to follow in the more public streets. He had to run and move quickly to hide and dodge the many gangs testing and attempting to break into the houses. Wren care hear the shouts and the javelin knocking back one of the thieves trying to pry a door open. A nearby spire lit up, Wren can see these spires were meant to summon city watches. He quickly moved around the gangs who scambled away - he would swing at hands and trying to grab him - with the blunt end of the falchion - breaking fingers and writs, when he could have easily maimed the man for life.
Eventually, he finally caught up to Irilia and listened in to their conversation, as he stealthily climbed onto an adjacent structure where his weight would not creek the wood beneath him. Irilia listened quietly to the requests of Sana, and he could hear the husband who was introduced as Timon explain the schedule of the guildsmaster and how he was going to help them with audience and papers. In return if she had blood magic to help them keep the child to term. Irilia said that it was within her power, and it seemed they think she was either a blood mage or a matriarch. The husband prepared the papers and the seals, and when he was done asked if Irlia can help them.
There was an awkward pause as it seemed the husband and sana was having a hard time consumating to begin the process. Irilia was patient and explained the blood magic she will perform - that its not yet Sana’s blood moon and that she was capable of bearing a child but he would need a lot of his seed as she will reshape the child to be strong enough to stay in her womb to a full term. The bureaucratic husband confidence waned as he didnt think he was strong enough to fill his wife with that much seed. Wren bit his lip knowing what was going to happen next, and he could hear the couples gasp seeing Irilia under her travellers garments - unfortunately for Wren he can tell that Irilia was physically participating in making this husband and wife create this child, from the moans, the creeks, the claping of flesh, and the profession of desire and fetishes of the couple. It wasnt hard to imagine he would do the same - and probably Kaleen did the same to Irilia when they had their children. It seemed that it took many embryos to make an elfin child and it rendered Kaleen powerless and vulnerable. The night went on, with several rounds and breaks with food and drink. Irilia’s blood magic restoring and draining the husband into his wife.
When the night was over irilia left the couple sleeping, when Wren accompanied her, he could see the extent of her physical participation. “She would get sore, and I had to help him out. He is a very willing man and faithful husband” She said unironically at him, knowing he could listen and see some of what was happening in the bedroom. “Unfortunately his health and his dilligence has made him not as strong as some men.” She said looking at Wren and meeting his eye.
“You dont have to explain to me.” Wren said. “You said you were sunspouses. And its been decades and youve had other partners. One of them dying trying to protect you while I ran ”
“Yet I feel I need to explain.” she pushed away her hair from her face. Yet Wrens face was so close to her face and stared just too long.
“Im not Kaleen. You shouldn't feel you need to explain.” Her eyes stared at the lines of his face. Her eyes tracing his mouth and her neck about to move to bridge the distance.
“Yet I see some of his mannerisms, in a stranger who doesnt know me.” She says stopping herself, but mouthing an action she would do to him he could easily read her lips. He found her flirtation strange, as he didnt have the uncertainty of his previous mind, he could see the volition and lack of volition and intent of some acts.
Irilia thought out loud with her look at him: Why do you act like when we first met, when I first met Kaleen.
====
Dashil, Sain and Thine - have become unintended kin that lived through trauma of slaughter and tragedy. Wren was a dependable and interested man, making them feel like everything they said was interesting and worth remembering. He acted like an ideal suitor but seemed completely interested in parts of them that made him feel special and worry free. Thiria and Irilia act as both mother, older sister, and father dispensing wisdom and discipline. Their tone level and never harsh - and more importantly like their mother when they screamed at night.
Thiria’s incense dulled the fear and the memories, strangely these women cried like girls and huddled like children around her. She remembered her children sleeping over and around her in ages past, she hadn’t had someone hug her so tightly since Theel would sleep with her telling her how much he missed their kids. It wasnt enough his grandchildren would sleep over and hug them and sleep them some summers and winters in a year, he still wanted his children to stay children and hug them at night. She wondered who was comforted - werent they were the ones comforting them from the darkness and monsters, why was it the otherway around - the comfort of those who saw you as their entire world?
Theel was a brave man, but he was not a fighter like Kaleen. He took down ten men before they pinned him down with three speers and hacked at his head till came off. His brothers would have been surprised Theel the builder and gardener - killed ten men at arms. He was stronger than most men, and had dwarven friends who haze him when they would meet in the conferences. His rough and callous hands, hands that would shield her when the slavers tried to grab at her despite the summoning tearing his memories apart. Rough hands that would be so gentle with her, yet built the houses and streets and smithies and new aqueducts. Hands, her hands would search under the sheets and she could still make him want her and make him sacrifice his magic to please her. He could not hunt and fight as much as the other men because of how magically weak she made him, but they still wanted each other even when their grand kids were already starting their families. A man who would be with her till he died - as fiercely as when he sworn himself to her and made their seven children. Theels memory woke Sain up to see tears running through Thiria face while she slept. This wasn’t the first time, and all she can do is kiss her gently and hug her tighter.
Thine dreams of her sister were not as terrible this night, it seems Thiria’s magic is more potent in an enclosed room. The memories of the past two moons were getting farther and farther away, and the new things and steadiness of Irilia’s and Thiria’s guidance helped begin the process of the grief.
Irilia and Wren, finally got back, waking Dashil to unbolt the door, went to huddle with them - Irilia spooning Kaleen when his senses were too tired to notice.
Tuesday, March 26, 2024
Short Isekai March 26 2024 part 2
The salt made everything taste better. Wren would opportunistically grab familiar herbs, something that reminded him of basil, oregano, thyme, and long peppers, and mix them into the tiny wooden flask he got from the slaver. He would find some edible roots, smells and sights that made his mouth water. There would be odd clumps of 3 or 4 plants that dont seem to occur naturally in various places - something that was like a kind of editable stalk, a fruity vine, and edible seeds were found cluster around. Wren would naturally arrange the left over seeds in such a way in places he believed would allow them to grow in the forest.
In a few days he managed to fix the bow, a fine self-bow, with a strange pattern in the wood grain, and with a thick handle almost as thick as a staff when straight. He managed to unstring it and dry it in a smokeless fire pit for it to dry. He first sharpens the falchion and hammers out the nicks on the blade to have a smooth edge he can use. He then proceeded to remake his short stone spear and replace the head with the iron spear. It ended up being a spear only as tall as him, instead of its original height of 3 hands taller than Wren. Wren discarded his stone axe, with the metal one - a tiny axe blade as big as his hand wedged at the edge of a heavy haft that has patina-covered copper rings and bands.
When he finally returned to the slavers camp, he could slowly figure out where they went. His new bloodlust has changed something inside of him. He has begun to notice obvious clues he used to ignore, like the seats and position in the camp that was more definitive than trying to count the steps. The impressions of beds and where the slaves urniated and defecated where they were. He took note of that practice - particularly how lazy they are with the slaves letting the slaves sleep near their filth. He wondered if this meant as their discipline and morale faltered they will put the slaves farther from the camp or will take the effort to guard them and set proper latrines. He could see the blood, a different kind of blood mixed with semen his sharper senses could detect.
He could track them, it was a simple inference like noting the shadows and time of day where the cardinal directions would be. He could smell them, separate the animal filth and rot and mold of the forest from that of the humans and his own filth. He can close his eyes and his mind would visualize the flow of the terrain, the wind, and the weather. He knew, in a way age made him appreciate the weather and temperature more, that this stormy weather would be the best way to catch up. Their onagers and pack goats would have less sure footing as they moved north west. Why did he think of an overwhelming amount of human waste and disease coming from that direction? Did he know of a city, an imperial capital, a place to convert the slaves into coin?
They did not bother to get the molding and wet leather cuirass of their fallen comrades. That's interesting, Wren wondered about the psychology of his quarry now that he’s tasted killing them. His edge alignment kept coming up, how we could not cut so cleanly. He would practice his swinging when he can - remembering his stick fighting where edge control didn't matter and how old fencing concepts of center and lines made his muscles ridged and then suddenly relax and want to strike the small sapling. He resisted the urge to leave a trail, he had to practice by feeling this lighter and stronger body was able to perceive. The hand axe could be thrown and could be strapped behind his waist, tightening a satchel’s cord and making an axe head cover out of leftover boiled leather so he doesn't stab himself.
The bow staff was something he could not practice as he caught up to the slavers. It only took 3 days as he moved much faster and was able to hunt while on the move. He had to tie the bow staff to his largest drawstring bag and tie them together with the arrows. It would be so much better to use a bow to snipe them, but a bow required more time and preparation and practice. The spear, axe, falcion, and buckler would be sufficient. Particularly figuring out how to sling the buckler on his left shoulder so he can use the spear two-handed. It was fascinating how this body was ambidextrous, he could orient his axe haft to his left hand to grab, and the falchion for his right. The falchion was stored in the back of the waist as he was moving so much in the brush. The spear was a total pain occupying his hands as he traveled and leaving marks unless he was careful to rest it on a tree or rock.
When he could smell them so strongly that he could tell them from the last two cold camps - three of the slavers were sick and there were some with some dysentery. That one of the slave's tracks disappeared, unable to find a body, Wren surmised the slave was still too valuable and probably is on the more overburdened pack goat. The garbage - clay and wooden flasks and leaf packings can be found. They are thinking its not worth saving these utensils. Wren wonders “Do they think I’m hunting them? Or their relationships are so transactional that they dont care if the others die.”
Wren was wondering how they found them, why there were slavers there and what was their purpose to take us. Were they expecting us those months ago? It was all a blur. Whatever happened, it was not what they expected because they bothered to stay and they were looking for something. Two months for a mission - does that sound right? For slaves… slaves like me? With these elfin features - are we valuable enough to be worth that expense? That the men were not as valuable as the women? Why…
Wren's idle thoughts ended when night fell and he began to take a bite of the salt-cured dried rodent he flattened into an improvised jerky. He could feel them - inferring their presence through the sound of insects and the intense smell of human filth as they began to relieve themselves during this break. Wren could smell their fires, and sense how it affected the insects downwind being eerily quiet. He is to the north of them now as the wind blew from the south and they seem to want light and their cook fires illuminated them.
He could see them take turns on one of the slaves venting their frustrations, their commander seems to have given up keeping discipline and seems to have one of the slaves serving him. He could see her, someone who looks defeated and beaten, her beautiful face bruised and like his own but intense grey eyes that caught the moonlight and almost mesmerized him except for the look of heartbreak. He could see her through forest canopy as he watched from up one of the trees almost half a minute run away. He wondered if she could see him, when he could see one of the slaves - who looked sick being removed from the pack goats and placed in iron chains along with the other slaves. 20 slavers, three in leather cuirass, and one with a sleeveless mail shirt with leather pauldrons. There were 8 slaves in total, he remembered there were more men than women and twice as many slavers. Images of their bindings and the glowing sigils in the darks when he first came to this world. The buckler would get in the way of this fight, so will the bow staff and the larger satchel and quiver.
He could see the leader talk to her, he would wanted to hear what it was about but he realized he had to look for a weakness. His disgust and remorse at seeing them abuse the other slaves - paused when he could see her go to the abused slaves and then try to touch them. It seemed to relieve them, only for her to be struck. The slavers seem to want her to touch them in that way too. The one in armor takes a wooden rod and then strikes her in the back of her thighs. He could not see the bruises but her cries can be heard. Wren is moving closer and could better make out the discussion, he can understand them to his surprise. He could hear the commander beat her without breaking her bones - telling her to heal his men and why did she waste her magic on the slaves. She cried to through the pain “ We are more valuable unbroken”. The commander laughs and tells her - “you’re right, but still heal my men. Or teach one the bitches to use their blood magic to heal them. There should be enough seed in them to heal twice as much.
Wren could see them torture and abuse the women, and he caught his fear. He caught that feeling of remorse and powerlessness he had when he first arrived here and saw every man slaughtered. When he ran away and kept running, that fear that would make him piss himself hit the wall of hate and anger that was inside of him. Seeing that one elfin woman cry out and fight through the pain, froze the fear inside him - to find something dark and terrible and incredibly mad with blood lust. His heart raced, his stomach tensed and this breathing was as though he was running as fast as he could - slow deeper breathes. His vision became clearer, the moon and stars became too bright - and every detail became crystal clear and everyone moved so slowly. They all moved so slowly - when he began to see every foot fall he was making - landing on uncertain rocks, leaving no sound. His dropped his pack and ran with his spear. He ran with his eyes making the campfires incredibly bright, and the darkness around the camp lit up. The color was desaturated out, and he slashed his spear through the neck of one guarding slaver, only to draw back his spear to deeply cut the side of the other guarding slaver who relaxed thinking he had a comrade beside him. So close with other slavers, he drew the three-hands-long knife from the guard's side and proceeded to run to the pack animals to wound them and set them free in two swift motions.
The cries of the pack animals alerted them and their eyes and attention moved in that direction, unable to find Wren who had already ran around them to their flank. Men drawing weapons and brandishing torches sacrificed their night visions for a little more light - while Wren’s gaze avoided these lights and moved to make an obvious feint - throwing his axe at the head of one of the flank guards. That guard raised his hand only to have an axe embed itself to a bone, while Wren draws both falcion and knife rapidly does seven knife strikes in before the guard can breathe - making sure to collapse their lungs to reduce their ability to cry out and grant others more battlefield awareness. He moved into them stepping into their shadows, as they waved their incredibly bright torches - and Wren danced with the shadows of the flickering fires. He saw their gaze, their eyes, and their center of gravity - cutting and stabbing at legs, shins, and knees and moving to the other end of the camp, running dead ahead against the slavers who would wind their swings low then wren jumps over them with a flip slashing at eyes and faces when they expected a man to thrust them straight on. Wren lands digging into the earth and bruising his feet as he appears behind these men who cannot follow his movement. His falchion cuts hamstrings and calves. When their muscle spasms, Wren can visualize their body’s reeling back where his arms whip out to strike the area of their neck. The knife fails to connect, gouging the shoulder muscle connecting to the neck, while the falchion more familiar opens the side of the neck.
While this is happening, one of the slaves struggling to escape one of the slavers abusing her from behind thrusts her head back to have his teeth break on her head. She turns around to find his front teeth gone and probably embedded on the back of her head and she proceeds to wrap her chained hands around his neck and bite him in his carotid artery with the desperation of someone suffering months of abuse. Her fellow slaves taking advantage of the chaos, fight back. Two of them are killed, as they slavers draw their blades and hammer and breaks the face of one and stabs the who stood up to scream.
Wren’s breath was deeper and fuller as he inhaled the smoke, blood and filth of the camp. Its time he decisively ends then, he runs what seems to be blindly, in the direction of a commanding voice. Wren runs like a powerful athlete, his feet slamming into earth and drawing clods if earth as he appears to charge the commander in three of his rapid heartbeats. The commander, takes a a two handed high overhead guard sure with skill and experience he will have better reach and reaction than this escaped slave. The commander’s sword cuts downward before his forward step even telegraphs his attack, but Wren wanted this and could see the shadow of the blade about to cut his skull open.
Wren wanted the commander to be confident and in control so badly, as he threw long knife and the falcion right at the face and eyes of the commander whose experience and skill barely parries the knife, and then had to abort his entire attack to block the falchion. As the commander uses the block to whip out his reposte, he finds Wren foot in his face while Wren is completely upside down flying with his whole weight on the commander with Wren’s legs in a scissor lock. The leg tackle knocks the heavier and larger commander back only to find Wren grabbing one of commander's arms and using his tackling flying momentum wrench away the arm from lifting and controlling Wren. Wren scissors his legs to choke and break the neck of the commander, and Wren uses both his arms and torso to break the other arm. The commander tries supports his neck dropping the sword. Time is slower for Wren, while mad with anger, a part of him dispassionately observes the commander's arm and applies enough leverage to break it. Unable to protect this neck, Wren whips his torso down to give his legs the leverage to snap the neck of the armored commander.
He then takes the sword and long knife. He then feints an attack with the sword, only to toss it to the slave and retreat a step to dodge the riposte of one of the slavers and step in with the knife into the waist as the cuirass exposes that area when the slaver raises his shoulders with a high guard.
The woman almost didn't catch the sword, and there was a moment of shock and realization before the the other slaver realized she was armed and as he winded up an attack at her, Wren stabbed him in the kidneys several times to be sure and to ensure the pain was enough to cause him to pause. The slave slashes down on the guard's face - with terrible edge control making a mess.
When Wren had a better look at her, the flow of time began to return as he could see the bruises, her stark gray eyes and the abuse she had suffered. Before time fully returned, he could see 10 guards were still able to fight - and sloppily with several chops of the spatha - Wren raised the bloody head of the commander and asked them “Do you still have fight in you?” Exhausted they paused and tried to take the women hostage. The first to try, Wren threw the spatha with all his strength at the Slaver who was beside the slaver with a hostage to be sure it wont hit the woman. When the slaver saw the sword on his comrade’s face - a woman managed to sneak behind him and crush his skull with a hammer.
Wren in a weak voice says - now there’s eight. Those who could, ran, the rest succumbed to their wounds - and Wren weakly gave the women the revenge they sought.
When he finally returned to the slavers camp, he could slowly figure out where they went. His new bloodlust has changed something inside of him. He has begun to notice obvious clues he used to ignore, like the seats and position in the camp that was more definitive than trying to count the steps. The impressions of beds and where the slaves urniated and defecated where they were. He took note of that practice - particularly how lazy they are with the slaves letting the slaves sleep near their filth. He wondered if this meant as their discipline and morale faltered they will put the slaves farther from the camp or will take the effort to guard them and set proper latrines. He could see the blood, a different kind of blood mixed with semen his sharper senses could detect.
Wren was wondering how they found them, why there were slavers there and what was their purpose to take us. Were they expecting us those months ago? It was all a blur. Whatever happened, it was not what they expected because they bothered to stay and they were looking for something. Two months for a mission - does that sound right? For slaves… slaves like me? With these elfin features - are we valuable enough to be worth that expense? That the men were not as valuable as the women? Why…
He could see them take turns on one of the slaves venting their frustrations, their commander seems to have given up keeping discipline and seems to have one of the slaves serving him. He could see her, someone who looks defeated and beaten, her beautiful face bruised and like his own but intense grey eyes that caught the moonlight and almost mesmerized him except for the look of heartbreak. He could see her through forest canopy as he watched from up one of the trees almost half a minute run away. He wondered if she could see him, when he could see one of the slaves - who looked sick being removed from the pack goats and placed in iron chains along with the other slaves. 20 slavers, three in leather cuirass, and one with a sleeveless mail shirt with leather pauldrons. There were 8 slaves in total, he remembered there were more men than women and twice as many slavers. Images of their bindings and the glowing sigils in the darks when he first came to this world. The buckler would get in the way of this fight, so will the bow staff and the larger satchel and quiver.
Monday, March 25, 2024
Short Isekai March 25 2024 part 1
I've been consuming a lot of manga recapped and wanted to try it out. I wonder if the story is good enough for someone to draw. This kind of thing would knock out 2-3 hours a day, something I can do everyday but it doesn't make money. Seeing how many light novels get published I wonder what are my odds? my knowledge of martial arts, milsim, outdoorsmanship, logistics, low-tech technology, and science would be those light novels where the protagonist solves puzzles and problems - not just uses force and violence. The subtle and clever use of special abilities that are not overpowered. as well as applying game theory as how challenging and sophisticated other adversaries are when they think and solve puzzles too.
===
PART 1
Wren breathed heavily, his feet and shins screaming with deep bruises and cuts from the relentless shrubs and thorns. He had been running for what felt like a quarter of an hour away from the slavers. His heart raced, and he moved forward, trudging along the broken ground, crouching low with his back hunched. He kept his head and eyes below the shrub line, unable to see if they had turned back, silently hoping they couldn’t hear him. Each footfall seemed noisy, yet he knew that certain sounds didn’t carry far. Unlike the snapping of dry twigs, the ground beneath him wetly crunched with roots, rocks, and damp, rotting foliage.
He carried a stone-knapped axe, a thrusting spear, and an atlatl, all of which had survived the rain and the rough handling of his escape. His attire was a worn, patched flax linen tunic found in a burned-down village. Linen cloth, scavenged and repurposed as a hood, sleeves, and leggings, shielded him when he dove into the brush for cover. His belongings included a repaired drawstring bag, a wallet hidden under his shirt and around his neck, and two mismatched pouches at his waist. He also had wooden and copper flasks, each containing a liter of water, but no metal tools or weapons could be scavenged from the village.
Half an hour later, Wren dared to look back, his mind a whirl of dread and paranoia. Thrust into this hostile world over a month ago, he clung to the hope that his skills from war games might save him. His attention sharpened when he spotted a slaver standing foolishly erect by a tree, mistaking it for concealment. The slaver's gaze swept over Wren's area, his body relaxed, showing no sign of recognition.
Memories flooded back of Wren's arrival in this world, with others, only to fall into the hands of slavers. The slavers, captivated by the women's beauty, ignored him amidst the chaos, darkness, and rain. Brave men were swiftly subdued; Wren could only watch as the captors bickered over their human spoils. The memory of that night—fraught with fear, weakness, and confusion—haunted him. It was particularly disorienting because he remembered being engulfed by the bright light with his friends, only to find himself stranded among strangers in this new world.
It felt miraculous that Wren had survived; he realized he shouldn't have been able to run with such endurance or at the frantic pace he had managed. His discovery came when he encountered puddles and running streams: his body was entirely different. He appeared elfin, feeling the strange pointed tips of his ears with his fingers. His vision was markedly improved, allowing him to see far better than ever before. The shock was intense as he observed and recognized details sharply—the faces of the slavers, the features of the deceased. He couldn’t recall his past clearly but surmised this must be akin to his youth's vitality when he could run and fight with boundless energy.
The clarity within him stirred, guiding his movements as in his days of live-action role-playing and war gaming with friends. He possessed the speed and decisiveness of youth, unmarred by the toll of age. Fatigue vanished as he navigated the underestimated sheer cliff face, reading the slavers' movements and sensing their growing frustration. Fearing a fatal fall, he spared only a cursory glance at the precipitous incline before pressing close against it, closing his eyes, and listening intently, hoping to discern the slaver’s retreat. After an hour of silence, he deduced their reluctance to pursue him down the hazardous slope.
Wren then ascended, his past bow and climbing training awakening his upper body strength, allowing him to reach up to each handhold with determined pulls. In moments, he scaled the cliff and observed the slaver squad, now weary and retreating. He noted their sinewy frames, the bruises and cuts marking their limbs. The wind carried their scent to him, mingled with the impending rain, placing him advantageously downwind.
His enhanced vision allowed him to scrutinize their faces and postures, identifying limps and signs of fatigue. Among the four, he spotted the straggler, assessing their vulnerabilities. As the sound of approaching rain filled the air, Wren sensed the impending downpour. He swiftly navigated around, the dark, rain-heavy clouds enveloping the scene. Driven by the urgency, he dashed towards the slavers, aiming for a large tree nearby, strategically positioning himself.
The rain turned the forest into a cacophony of sound, making the ground treacherous and muddy. Despite their caution, the slavers' aches led to slips and falls. Seizing the moment, Wren descended upon the most fatigued slaver who had fallen to his knees, driving his spear down into the man's collarbone from above. The victim was rendered speechless, unable to draw breath as the stone spear lodged firmly. As Wren contemplated retrieving his axe, he noticed the dying slaver's short falchion and buckler. He quickly appropriated these weapons and advanced on the next foe, who had turned in shock towards his fallen comrade. Wren hurled the buckler at the slaver's face, causing a cry that alerted the others. In a swift, brutal motion, he slashed the slaver's knee and shin, following through with a body tackle that sent the man tumbling to the ground.
The two remaining slavers turned, one brandishing a sturdy iron spear, the other hesitating with a bow. As the spearman lunged, Wren's youthful body reacted instinctively, his enhanced vision capturing the prelude to the slaver's thrust. Wren felt a flashback to sparring with eager, albeit untrained, youths, as he intercepted the spear with his falchion, aiming to sever its wooden shaft. The impact sent a numbing shock through Wren’s arm, yet the blade bit deeply, disarming the slaver.
In one fluid motion, Wren closed in, his arm hooking the slaver's shoulder, his foot slipping between the man's legs. Drawing from his extensive judo and jiujitsu training, Wren executed a precise hip throw, propelling the slaver directly into the path of the bowman. The unexpected collision forced the bowman to falter, just long enough for Wren to maneuver around the spearman and destabilize the bowman, who, struggling on the slippery terrain, misfired his arrow.
Wren, seizing the moment, reached for the nearest weapon— an arrow from the bowman’s spilled quiver. With a swift motion, he drove it into the bowman's chest, finding a gap above the pectoral and forcing it between the ribs. He twisted the arrow, pushing deeper, aiming to compromise the archer’s thoracic integrity and induce a fatal collapse of the lungs.
Wren's assault left the bowman gasping for air. Rolling off him, Wren's hands scrambled, seizing a stone as he propelled himself into a sprint towards the Spearman. A wave of desperate violence surged through him. He clipped the spearman, who was struggling to rise, sending them both crashing onto the rocky ground. Pain shot through Wren's hand as it met sharp rocks, but he didn’t pause, rolling atop the spearman to pummel his face with the stone, targeting the forehead and jaw with ruthless efficiency.
Mid-assault, Wren's enhanced peripheral vision caught a shadowy movement—the crippled slaver wielding an axe. The slight prelude to the slaver’s swing gave Wren just enough time to hurl the stone, striking the attacker's face with a bone-crunching impact that sent teeth scattering. Detached, Wren observed the chaos he wrought, his heightened senses dissecting every detail, every shadow.
This sensory overload triggered a flood of memories and thoughts, yet Wren remained focused. Rising to confront the axe-wielder, he slashed upwards at the axe-slaver's face, then turned his blade, moving in a downward arc towards the spearman in a smooth, clean motion. His forceful strike lodged the weapon deep due to imprecise edge alignment, failing to deliver a clean cut.
Wren seized the spear, still embedded with his falchion, and thrust it into the bowman attempting to escape, his equipment abandoned in panic. As the rain intensified, soaking everything, Wren felt his heart pounding, adrenaline fueling his actions. He scavenged the battlefield, collecting weapons, the fractured spear, and swapping for better shoes and pouches. His acute senses navigated the muddy chaos, swiftly locating valuable items.
With the storm masking his movements, Wren assessed the wind and rain patterns, intuitively choosing paths where erosion would better conceal his tracks. He vanished into the storm-swollen landscape, leaving the scene of fierce confrontation behind.
Hours passed as he continued to run. His fingers and limbs wrinkled, Wren found a dry spot to rest under a rocky outcropping shaded by large trees. Erosion had carved out a nook where only rocks and soil remained. He washed his wounds with the stream of rainwater created by the tree, striving to remove the grit embedded in his feet, elbows, and hands. The terrain grew more treacherous, and he hoped the slavers were ill-equipped to track him to this refuge. Unwittingly, he dozed off, awakening to the warmth of a new day, surprised to find no signs of infection despite the numerous wounds and the strain on his immune system. Experiencing fatigue without illness was a novelty for him.
The clarity of his senses only fully dawned on him as the desperation and frustration of constant flight ignited a desire to confront his pursuers. Bloodlust sharpened his perception, making every detail starkly visible. He could see viable routes up a tree and scan for followers. Before he knew it, he was perched in the tree, surveying the terrain he had traversed, perhaps more than 10 kilometers away, discerning subtle movements and the occasional glint of metal. The urge to engage, to test his limits in combat as he had never before, unlocked latent abilities he struggled to comprehend. A mantra in an unfamiliar language filled his mind, and he whispered it, attempting to extend his vision further. The chant ceased abruptly when he recognized the pangs of hunger and exhaustion. His gaze landed on wild fowl and rabbits, hinting at a shift in priorities. Wren realized that survival in this strange world entailed more than just evasion—it demanded adaptation and confrontation.
Wednesday, March 20, 2024
50% Sale Poster March 2024
Friday, March 15, 2024
Lack of Hard Scifi Habitat Books - is this an opportunity for Game in the Brain.
So, Nicco and I are nearly done with the 60m diameter habitat. The ball was in my court for double-checking the dimensions - I would make an object that would be as big and check the volume since it would make the scale accurate. Nicco will then proceed to make a denser map that would be friendly for people using VTT like Roll20. We downloaded the Roll20 map-making guidelines.
Delays were caused by having chills and fever March 8 and only getting antibiotics March 11. Today is my last day of antibiotics.
There is going to be a 1-month learning curve as I teach Nicco how to use the dynamic lighting in Roll20 and test if both our PRO accounts can be moved back and forth, or if he just has access to my pro account. I’m not sure how this will work out.
If you’re new here, Nicco is the artist making the 3D and 2D materials in Mneme. He is also my co-writer and editor for background material, and he leads the writing projects like our unreleased adventure “2-Parsec.” I have the same skills as Nicco as we were “barkada” (close friends group) in college gaming and strangely had similar-looking styles. He continued to do art working in corporate communication and media (presentation decks), and I was roped into the family business being the IT head. I typically do the R&D, but Nicco did the R&D to create the geometry nodes that allow us to create the ships easily (People have access to these same geometry nodes since they have access to the Blender files), but as a friend said: the skill level to use your material is too high - it has to be more accessible. Nicco is not just an artist, he’s also a hard sci-fi guy who would do the math given the opportunity.
In the Game in the Brain, I guess what would sell based on what I would want and the market doesn’t have. For example, our products, if you look at them, were based on the gap in the market and what I believed is needed to have a great experience playing Cepheus Engine.
In the habitat, I did the calculations and requirements, Nicco created the drafts and I would examine them. Typically that would be double-checking his calculations and compliance with the ship stats. I’m not too strict because I pay for the rework. I advance everything, if the book doesn’t sell (it’s sold only 23 copies, I need about 100 to be close to break-even or possibly 200 copies when I give sales… Like today) I absorb all the costs. I don’t buy games as much and cut back on other things to pay for improving Mneme.
Anyway, when a friend, Jay, pointed out that our games are not too accessible, I got to thinking - would people be interested in a 5000 dton habitat? 10 rings of 60m diameter, that would be a 100m long ring with a 2000DT tender able to jump and resupply. Imagine a ship with a fuel cable that unspools to skim on a gas giant, the fuel cable is 100m long for every dton allowing standard hull-type ships to stay in the thinner atmospheres - note that this is to allow more area for the ship to catch atmosphere for fuel, as you need tens of km of spool to properly mine a gas world.
The book is probably going to be 40-50 pages with tiles for rooms. It will have 1 ship, but 3 sample interior setups. There will be Roll20 maps with dynamic lighting.
The product is a 5000DT (3000DT) habitat that can be placed in any location that needs a lower tech (TL7-8 or in GURPS TL8-9) habitat. If it will be hard sci-fi Traveller like Orbital 2100 then this will be ubiquitous. The economics of the habitat and its tender will be noted as this determines the economic potential the PCs will encounter.
Images of a habitat nestled in an asteroid being formed to shield it would be the most common, as well as it naked behind the moon with a powerful magnetic field. With 3000DT it can hold 300-600 people, what kind of economic unit is 300 people or 60 families? Imagine the fuel tankers through or around the habitat. Nicco and I will have fun detailing it, but the question is, will it pay off and will people like such a product that it will be bought?
I’ve been mostly wrong every time, none of the projects every hit break even. While I still do this even if it’s not break even and because I want such a product to exist. Where else can you get the 3d Models of the ships and all the editable tools you need to detail and customize our material? Cepheus Engine exists! it took a decade for people to catch on. You’ll notice I’m juggling my JS studies along with the other studies even if I’m sick right now, having little sleep because of my cough.
I guess I have to come up with a free product: Running Cepheus Engine hard sci-fi, as well… answering all the questions regarding this. Being the Quality and Safety Officer, being in charge of our Maintenance and on the board of our Building - and seeing how safety, engineering, and maintenance is done in other companies - I would love to detail this - trying o predict how it would work out. I would love to make Engineering, Maintenance, Operations, and Automation fun and accessible the way learning so much about it in Games and Real life and filling in the gaps. I would love to gamify life for people so they can win-win. Having an electronics start up - I would love to translate it into low key adventures - so that students and starting adventurers can have better options - as they have a more structured framework to approach the industry. Of course I have to be lucky enough to have an engaging product - that my flaws dont obscure our strengths.
What do you think? We are open to feedback!
Wednesday, March 13, 2024
March 15 to March 31 2024 Game in the Brain Sales
Here are the links to get 50% Off in
Mneme World Generator, Mneme Variant Combat and Mneme Space Combat.
https://www.drivethrurpg.com/browse.php?discount=9765a77d6a (double check and look if the link sends you here)
https://www.drivethrurpg.com/browse.php?discount=931161849e (double check and look if the link sends you here)
https://www.drivethrurpg.com/browse.php?discount=975ccb01d2 (double check and look if the link sends you here)
there is a python script that makes QR codes based on the links. FreeQR code generators base on theMany QR code services offer to generate free QR codes temporarily. They accomplish this by creating a QR code that points to a link they control, which then redirects to your actual link. However, when you use this Python QR code generator, it encodes the actual characters of your link directly into the QR code. If you scan this QR code with your phone, you will see the original link in the preview, unlike "free" QR codes that use temporary redirect links. This method is more secure, reducing the risk of hijacking.
Instructions for Generating QR Codes
Install Python: Ensure Python is installed on your system. You can download it from the official Python website.
Install the qrcode library: Open Command Prompt (CMD) and run:
- css
pip install qrcode[pil]
- Generate the QR Code: In CMD, use the following command, replacing YOUR_URL_HERE with the link you wish to encode:arduino
python -m qrcode "YOUR_URL_HERE"
On Linux (Ubuntu):
Install Python and pip (if not already installed): Open Terminal and run:
- sql
sudo apt update sudo apt install python3-pip
- Install the qrcode library: In the Terminal, execute:css
pip3 install qrcode[pil]
- Generate the QR Code: In the Terminal, run the command below, substituting YOUR_URL_HERE with your desired link:arduino
python3 -m qrcode "YOUR_URL_HERE"
By following these instructions, you can generate a more secure QR code directly from your computer, ensuring the integrity and authenticity of your original link.