Leaving Home

Suziss critically strikes Saproling Boar with metal tipped spear dealing 213 piercing damage.

Saproling Boar is bleeding and will take 7 damage per second for 30 seconds.

Saproling Boar is Stunned for 3 seconds.

Xafrulleg listened to the beast squeal incessantly as it ran from them. As Suziss' spear struck, the boar's body went rigid, and it crashed into the forest floor. It slid face first, before rolling onto its side, spear in its flank pointed up at the sky. It lay there stuck with the stun status, and it was refreshingly quiet for a moment. As soon as the stun duration elapsed, the creature thrashed, kicked, and renewed its loud squealing. Xafrulleg sat back a few yards, waiting to see if they would have to chase it down. With each rocking motion it made to get try to get to its feet, it drove the spear head deeper, shortening its already withering life span. Even if it could manage to get up and run, it would surely bleed out soon.

The pair learned from their family that the hard outer shell of a Saproling Boar is a dense, inches thick tangle of hardened roots. Majority of the time, this provides ample armor to protect its more animal like innards from predators. However, with the majority of its stats poured into the natural armor, it means any attack that can bypass it and draw blood tends to becomes a fatal one. Usually this meant you needed a large hunting party to bag one, but the pair wanted to try their hand anyways.

A very lucky attack by Suziss managed to find a shallow spot in the tangled thicket of roots, and had just enough piercing damage to make it through to the meaty bits. A more typical hunt would consist of dozens of targeted strikes at the same chunk of roots, slowly carving its defenses away, as the team of hunters led the beast in predictable circles. This particular boar must have still been recovering from a past encounter leaving the struck section weakened.

"I think ya missed," Xafrulleg jokes as she walked up the dying Boar. A smirk crossed her face as she looked up at Suziss perched up in the canopy. A prompt flashed in the corner of each of their visions for a moment as the boar's life total drained away to zero.

Lv. 10 Saproling Boar has been slain. 255 exp awarded.

"Oh noooo," Suziss replies dramatically, "guess it's sadness for dinner again tonight." Her facade of woe lasted only a few seconds before a smile broke across her face. She started climbing her way down from the tree limbs chuckling to herself and shaking her head. "And some ice soup for dessert if we're lucky. Mm-mm. What a treat."

"You think we have ice? Keep dreaming." Xafrulleg teased, then circled the beast taking stock. Its a few inches taller than her at the shoulders, and four, maybe five times her and Suziss' combined weight. She estimated it at about three feet tall, six foot long, maybe three hundred pounds over all. Its entire body is a goodie bag of fantastic loot. Unfortunately, with limited carrying capacity, they had their eyes on the thirty odd pounds of red meat at the center. Perhaps a handful of the other goodies.

Doing some estimation math in her head, she could predict that being enough to keep them fed for the next couple weeks, give or take a couple days. That would be a wonderful prize, allowing them to finally scale back time spent hunting and gathering each day. They could start taking time to convert their shabby campsite into a more permanent home.

Earlier in the year, the pair had left their parent's territory, eager to begin their own adult lives. Linvari as a people tend to live in small familial groups. However, their parents specifically choose to live as a solitary pair. So the two sisters, Xafrulleg and Suziss, have been trying to get themselves established after the parents decided their parental duties were concluded.

Xafrulleg figures she can drag the thirty pounds of meat the whole way back to camp despite it weighing as much as herself. Suziss could carry a few of the better potion ingredients in her bag. It would be a risk to try to take so much this close to sun down, but Xafrulleg determines the reward to be worth it. With luck, they get it home before anything has a chance to wake and smell the blood.

Suziss dropped down the last few feet and landed with a soft splash into a muddy puddle. She hopped twice more, sending mud flying all over, a big smile on her face. Then she walked up to reclaim her spear with a cocky stride. She hopped up onto the boar's body, and grabbed the weapon by the shaft. She gave it a casual yank, just for the spear to ignore her attempt, remaining stuck.

Xafrulleg stifled a laugh at her antics, then unsheathed one of her knives to start carving through the thinner mass of vines lining the boar's underbelly. Suziss continued to struggle, rocking the spear back and forth, pulling from every such angle, until it released with a soft pop. She managed to get a squirt of blood and sap over her legs, atop the mud. She smiled and hopped down and got to work cutting into the roots, searching for goodies.

"Focus on getting as many of the truffle health potion things as you can Zis," Xafruleg instructed, as she started packing strips of meat neatly onto a hardened cloth sled. The boar being mostly plant, grew these strange truffle like clumps the size of her fist in its shell at its deepest layers. They are one of the possible ingredients in making some basic health potions, and would thankfully restock their supply that has been depleted for weeks.

Suziss looked back at her sister, a pleading look in her eyes, but she held her tongue and nodded disappointedly, looking for the truffles, and setting a fruit aside. Along the top side of the boar, the part that would stick up out of the ground when the boar is burrowed, it would occasionally grow a spattering of sweet fruits that she adored. Their mother would spend hours making it into jelly, usually a whole jar just for Suziss since it was her favorite. Suziss hesitantly removed fruit after fruit from her bag, placing them almost reverently on the ground in a neat pile, and replaced each with the gathered truffles as she found them. Xafrulleg kicked herself mentally for letting her sister's look get to her, but she discreetly packed two of the apple sized fruits onto the sled when she happened upon them. "An extra few ounces won't hurt," she thought.

Xafrulleg packed every once of meat she could carve out onto the sled. Suziss packed her bag to the brim with truffles, but had to leave a few behind with all the fruits. Carrying as much as they could, the pair turned towards home. Suziss climbed back into the canopy, using the branches as pathways. She would be lookout, sentry, and scout. Xafrulleg put her head down, and shouldered the sled reigns, pulling it at a slow but constant pace forward. She noticed a half eaten fruit discarded where Suziss was sitting. She smiled, and trudged on.

The time past slowly for Xafrulleg, each step taking more effort than the last. An hour past. Then another. Suziss would give semi regular updates as to what path to take to avoid the worst of the thicket. Otherwise she was alone, focusing on one step after another. As night approached, the sky changed colors from the bright blue of day, into the dark purple of twilight, then finally into blackness as night began.

The nocturnal wildlife started to stir, and the bioluminescent glow of the forest came to life. Moss coating the trees glowed whites and pinks. Flowers and mushrooms took on the darker colors; shades of red, blue, and purple. The fur at the tips of Xafrulleg's elbows, chest, and ears glowed royal purple overtop her light grey coat. If Xafrulleg could see her sister, she would see her almost white fur spot with pink light. Insects flashed their mating patterns in the tree-tops, centipedes streaked through the undergrowth making the surface look like it had veins pulsing through the soil. This was undoubtedly the most dangerous time of the day.

They make it around two thirds of the way home, nearly three hours of travel completed. Xafrulleg things, maybe traveling with the full thirty pounds of meet was a tad too greedy. Then some stray sounds catch her attention. A bush rustling on a breezeless night. The sound of underbrush crunching despite her sled being on black soil. Then the definitive snap of a branch just out of sight.

There was something stalking her, and had managed to go unseen from Suziss' patrol. Xafrulleg reasoned it must be a pack of somethings from the number of disturbances she had heard. She came to a stop, and dropped the reigns. She unsheathed her primary weapons, a set of jagged daggers, from sheathes across the small of her back. She fell into a defensive stance, holding both in front of her ready to parry an oncoming attack. She rotated slowly, scanning the area for unusual movement. She cursed herself for not having dedicated time into making themselves better leather armor.

Xafrulleg took quick glances up into the trees to see if she could make out her sister's fur pattern, her bright pink glowing highlights, but couldn't pick her out from the natural glows of the forest. She grit her teeth, debating if she chances calling out to her sister. She looked every which way, waiting patiently, but nothing else stirred.

"Suziss!" She called out with some urgency. As she did, one of the stalkers emerged from its hiding spot behind a bush. She focused on it, and identified it as a Root Wolf. A nocturnal predator with a body woven of soft whip like vines. They're persistent pack hunters. Their vines grow back from damage, passively using its mana reserves to heal. So even if you manage to fight the creatures off, they could be fully recovered in hours depending on their mana regeneration speed.

They are born from seeds, because of this, the seed they sprout from becomes a core piece in their anatomy. The vines all sprout from this core, making it the creature's only real weak spot when coupled with its regeneration. Hack away at the vines, and in theory you can kill a wolf by beating out its regeneration. Eventually. However, the only really accepted way to kill one, is to strike their seed core. Which is a rarity as well. They are smart enough to retreat when necessary, can tank enough damage to survive getting taken out in one blow, and their weak spot is ever shifting within the vines. How one tends to "win" against them, is to cause enough pain that they deem you not worth the effort.

One after another, a group of them emerges from cover, surrounding her. The largest of the bunch, presumably the leader, stared her down with its blazing orange eyes. The thick black barbs around its neck stood on edge, it bared its teeth and let out a rumbling growl. Xafrulleg heard another circling around behind her despite the lead wolf trying to hold her attention.

She flashed her gaze around, counting six Root Wolves around her. She noted each of their positions, trying to keep the majority of her focus on countering. "This is fine, as long as I can keep track of all of them, I should be fine." Xafrulleg thought. She slowed her breathing, trying to keep herself in control, and prepared for the fight.

The Root Wolf to her rear pounced first attempting to snap its jaws around her neck. She spun, facing the attacker, then lowered her stance to duck under the leaping wolf's jaw. She slashed into its chest as she sidestepped its landing body. Her dagger cut through the thin vines like butter, letting thick gobbets of sappy blood ooze across her arm. She glanced at the damage log quickly, hoping to have been lucky and see a kill notification.

Xafrulleg strikes Root Wolf with basic metal dagger for 168 slashing damage.

She missed the core, so the beast would ultimately shrug the damage off, but that didn't stop it from running away a short distance after landing. It let out a mix of whimpers and howls, rolling on the ground like it was on fire, but Xafrulleg could see that the vines were already starting to repair and knit back together. "Shit," she thought. "Zis should hear the commotion and be on the way, if she wasn't already." She locked gazes with the lead wolf again, before letting her attention dart around at the other circling wolves.

Xafrulleg heard a branch snap, then felt a tugging along her right side for a flash of a second, catching her off guard. She was pushed to the side as a Root Wolf landed on its front paws nearly atop of her. She processed late, that one must have jumped down from the trees. The branch snapping must have made its landing skew off course, intending to have landed on and crushing her. Regardless, it got close enough to slide its claws through her side, into her flesh. The suddenness of the strike, mixed with flooding adrenaline, let her make a counter strike before the pain could register. As the monster's back paws landed, she lashed out with a powerful kick into its jaw. She felt whatever counts for its bones crack and its jaw go limp from the strike, but at the same time she felt the gash in her side stretch open from the exertion.

She screamed, first with fear at strange feeling of her skin separating, then at the pain slamming into her mind. It hurt. It hurt so much. Tears welled up in her eyes, but with a push of will power, she swallowed the fear she was feeling and gave back rage. Her vision blurred, was fringed with darkness, and she had to fight to not black out. She lashed out, and struck again and again at the wolf. Her strikes were uncoordinated and frantic, more akin to boxing punches instead of the intended dagger slashes, but she managed to land an additional meaningful strike among the near useless as the wolf scrambled away from her.

With that little bit of separation created, Xafrulleg hunched over and threw up, the pain and feeling of her own warm blood flowing down her side and leg too much to handle. As she fought back control of her senses, she snapped her gaze up and around, looking for another attack. None were immediate, so she looked to the pack leader. The leader was growling and barking at its comrade now on the ground, unmoving. Its barks turned into rage filled growls as its gaze snapped back to her.

She was vaguely aware that the beast on the ground was behaving strangely, but couldn't hold onto conscious deliberate thought as it writhed away from her grasp again and again. Her survival instincts, a copious amount of adrenaline, pain, and a pinch of blood loss were piloting her body now. An experience gain notification went unnoticed in her periphery.

She growled in return at the creatures before her, holding her daggers at the ready. The blade in her right hand hung just a little lower than the other, as far as she could raise it without stretching her wound even more. Her fur stood on end, making her look larger like any scared, garden variety feline.

The lead wolf sprinted at her, any subtlety or strategy thrown to the wayside in leu of a full frontal attack. Unconsciously Xafrulleg was aware of another of the predators bursting towards her from her back right side as well. As the wolf in front of her closed to less than a yard away, she leaped right at its open maw, her addled mind determining it better to tie herself into combat with one opponent rather than trying to fend off both. Both blades aimed for its face.

The wolf to her rear missed it initial target, but managed to bite into the fur of her tail, pulling a chunk of hair and underlying flesh free. Xafrulleg's vision narrowed further. Her own screams didn't reach her own ears, her world drowned out to all but the feeling of her muscles exerting over and over, and the eyes of the pack leader.

The pack leader flinched at the little Linvari leaping at its face. It bit down onto one dagger, stopping it cold. The other blade swung wildly around the top of its head. After three attempted swings, she managed to slice off its ear, and some of the black spines along his back, the blade scraping along the top of its skull instead of slashing into it.

Annoyed and angry at the flailing and spikey thing attached to its face, the wolf swatted it away, sending it on a short flight. Xafrulleg slammed against a tree over a dozen feet away back first, her blades flew out of her grasp and were somewhere in the brush. She doubled over, her breath rushed out, leaving her gasping, her paws rushed to her aching sides, and she struggled to keep her eyes up enough to see where the wolves were. She felt the cooling blood on her paw, her bleeding leaving her fur matted and slick. She manages to get her eyes up, and locks them with the leader between her and the sled of meat. Behind him she heard what she guessed was the remainder of the pack emerging from hiding places.

To her surprise, four young pups yipped and alternated jumping up at who she assumed was the father’s underside, and bound excitedly at the boar meat they smelt on the sled. The remainder of the pack paid her little attention now that they could freely approach the meal, and started tearing into it wildly. It seemed when the leader finally removed her from her from the center of the battle, the little ones came out rushing at their father too early. Likely the only reason she still lives, as the father chose to be content with being between its foe and his offspring.

However, she was still far to close to the father wolf for his liking. He took a slow step towards her, and she bolted back into fight or flight. She ran. Whatever adrenaline she had left flooder her abused muscles. She was in a constant state of panic and fear. She tripped over random refuse many times just to immediately roll back into a full sprint. She doesn’t know how far she made it before she finally blacked out.