Post-Apocalyptic Survivor in Another World: New Beginning

It had been simple to stitch up his garments with the scraps he’d collected yesterday, now his trenchcoat, rucksack and other clothing was basically good as new! Joseph hummed a tune as he picked his way back toward the trail once again, content with the cool Autumn chill. The slight gray tinge of the morning always made him feel cozy, even if he was hiking through dangerous territory. He had trouble trying to associate his current surroundings with danger though… besides the goblin mutants and the bandits, this place seemed completely safe, at least environmentally.

There were no signs of mutated wildlife, his geiger counter hadn’t clicked once, and there was no tingle at the back of his neck that would have signaled a Portal Storm. The air was perfectly safe as well, that girl and her father had breathed it in just fine after all, and they had no masks whatsoever. The birds certainly didn’t seem bothered either, happily chirping their tunes in the canopies overhead. The broad smile he’d had since the start of the day hadn’t faltered in the slightest. He had a full stomach, birdsong in his ears, and his gear was in top condition. Quite an excellent start, if he did say so himself.

Hopefully the day would stay this good throughout, he had a potentially weeks long trip ahead of him and Joseph wanted this first leg to go smoothly.

When he finally reached the trail once more, he was surprised to see that all the bodies, goblins and humans, were gone. Likely they were dragged off by scavengers, maybe retrieved by the goblins or the girl and her father for proper burials. Likely the former, he doubted they would give a damn about burying the corpses of a buncha subhuman freaks. He began studying the loose dirt on the ground, trying to determine just which direction the bodies could have gone. If they hadn’t been dragged away, then they could have risen from the dead and shambled off.

It wasn’t uncommon… perhaps he was still a bit rusty, it was common survivor courtesy to pulp any corpses you left behind so this wouldn’t happen. Joseph supposed he’d been too giddy with the looting to remember that fact. Ah well, best he track them all down and finish the job, else they might hurt somebody. That is, if there weren’t signs of the corpses being dragged away. Furrows in the earth were clearly visible, leading off into the bushes.

So the goblins had nabbed the bodies then? That just meant that he wouldn’t have to go find them. The goblins could keep the corpses, it was their responsibility now. If they came back to bite them then they would need to handle the pulping themselves. Unless they had already done it? There weren’t any signs of extraneous gore to be seen anywhere, aside from the dried blood left behind from yesterday’s shootout. If they had been properly pulped there would be brain matter strewn about where the bodies had been, chunks of bone, and other viscera left behind…

The goblins hadn’t done it right after all, and he doubted that they’d take them home to pulp them where they lived. Were they eating the bodies? It wasn’t uncommon for mutants to do so. Maybe it would be best if he tracked them down, see what they were doing with the bodies. Maybe he’d kill them too, it depended on what he found. With his mind made up, he began following one of the furrows in the earth, passing again into the woods on the opposite side of the trail he’d come in from.

They hadn’t thought to conceal the path properly, it was easy to spot the smashed grass where they’d dragged the bodies through. An hour passed before the trail ended. It all led to the mouth of a cave set in the side of a hill, a raggedy red curtain hanging down the entrance; likely to keep out the light. Damn, these guys really were goblins. Living in caves, probably eating bodies- everything checked out so far. What was next, orcs? Elves?

He shook his head, checking his rifle and making sure his other gear was secure in his tool belt. He took pride in being overly prepared for any situation, and a big part of that was the ancient art of double-checking, his greatest tool. Once he was sure that everything was secure, he began creeping up to the cave-mouth, seeing that it was apparently unguarded. At least it was on this side, the other end of the curtain may contain some goblins on lookout.

Now… what to do? Should he give them another chance to come out and be sociable, or should he go in guns blazing and kill the lot? It was tough to say… yesterday they had attacked him on sight, but could he really blame the goblins for that little incident? He had surprised them after all, maybe he’d triggered their fight or flight? They also couldn’t understand his language, he needed to take that into account, so there was no way for them to have taken his warning to heart.

He’d give them a second chance to be sociable, he’d call out to the cave and retreat behind some bushes in case he needed the cover.

He cleared his throat before yelling “Hello? Spare a cup of sugar?” He then darted behind the nearest bush, which sat directly across from the mouth of the cave.

It wasn’t long before one of the little creatures cautiously opened the curtain peering out to see Joseph’s head sticking over the bush.

“Fagrak!” The goblin shrieked, sounding agitated, “Ee ulod fagrak!”

Hmm… Ee ulod fagrak. If fagrak meant ‘attack’ like he suspected, then could this sentence have meant ‘We’re under attack’? Meaning that Ee and ulod would be ‘We’re under’... maybe. He’d need to get a friendly local to chat with, maybe he could get an example of this language's alphabet in exchange for some food. He readied his rifle, aiming it at the entrance and switching it to full auto. He wasn’t sure how many were gonna come out but if they charged him then he’d be able to put down enough to scare em’ back underground.

If they didn’t immediately charge his position, then he wouldn’t shoot. He wanted to have a parley with them after all, blasting their faces off would make that a bit tough to do. Other goblins soon emerged from the cave mouth, some of them butt-naked instead of clad in a ratty loin-cloth. The sight was unseemly but these were just subhumans, they didn’t know any better. Especially since these creatures seemed to be the trailer-trash of mutants, and that was really saying something.

None of them carried guns, but some did have slings, with stones already loaded in them. That could be a bit painful, but his armor would ensure that none of the rocks could kill him. The other goblins bore daggers and clubs, like yesterday, those could be a problem too, if he let them get up close. His trigger finger began to itch as another ten flooded out of the cave, staring daggers at him with their little beady goat-eyes. He held off on shooting, there was still a chance for diplomacy here, he’d just talk to them and see where it went. Tone would be important here, as they couldn’t understand words. If he came across as meek they would charge him, same if he came across as aggressive, he’d need to be neutral.

“Hello, I was wondering if you could give me your alphabet.” He said, knowing they wouldn’t understand him, “I’m not here to fight, “He said, shaking his head. Should he risk raising his hands to show peace? He decided to do it, raising his hands palm forward and standing up. If they charged he could duck and open fire, it wasn’t like they had guns they could return fire with after all. “See? Just here to ask you fellas about where I am, maybe learn a few things about your language?”

The chittering things all charged at him, laughing madly as they brought their weapons to bear.

His teeth clenched in rage, and he brought up his rifle, “I tried being nice!” He shouted, “A freak’s always a freak!”

With that, he opened fire, dumping half the mag and painting the stone of the cave-mouth in a fresh shade of crimson. It only took a couple seconds for the monsters to be reduced to bloody sacks of punctured meat, leaving a total of twelve bodies littering the ground. He let out a barely suppressed snicker as he waited for more to appear, aiming down the sights eagerly. Now that he was here and diplomacy had failed… may as well kill them all and take anything worthwhile in their little cave. He switched back to semi-auto and waited for a solid minute. He was just wondering if any more would emerge from the entrance before a goblin stuck its head out from behind the curtain.

Pink mist exited out the back of the mutant's head, the bullet ricocheting off the stone and plinking into a nearby tree. Was that the last one, or were there more inside? If there were any goblins left, they’d definitely seen that last one get shot. The body had slumped down, halfway out of the curtain. Surely these things weren’t so moronic that they couldn’t tell their comrade was dead.

Had they ever been shot at before? They didn’t seem to know what a gun was, based on how they blindly charged him while he held them at gunpoint. Maybe their species was simply lacking a self-preservation instinct? No, that wasn’t right either… they had certainly ran away yesterday when he’d shot at them, meaning that they truly had no experience in dealing with firearms before.

He grinned, happy to have such an overwhelming advantage against these dysgenic beasts. This revelation also meant that they had no firearms of their own… perhaps he should be more conservative with his ammunition, the knife or mace would do, the shortsword might be a bit tougher to use in that cave. He cringed as he thought of the repairs that would be needed if the blade collided with the cave wall. He had crafted all three of these tools himself, and he was confident in their sturdiness, but blade edges and stone simply didn’t mix.

He mulled for only a moment before he slung the rifle back over his shoulder, checking to make sure that the hood was still over his armored head. A little extra protection for the back of his neck wouldn’t go amiss in the cave, and who knew what sort of toxins were present in that nasty cave air? He slowly stood from behind the bush, drawing his trench mace, a short tool with a sturdy wood shaft tipped with ridged steel.

With their small frames, they wouldn’t be able to absorb the shock he’d be able to dole out with the bludgeon. That, it would simply be easier to take them out with this rather than the knife. He approached the cave, giving the mace an experimental swing as his other hand pulled out a long, heavy-duty police flashlight. He had replaced the battery that morning, and testing had shown that it still worked like a dream.

He crept up to the curtain, back hugging the cave wall before he leaned his head in to catch a glimpse of what lay within. A few goblins gasped in shock at seeing his masked-face, their primitive spears quavering for an instant before they charged, screaming ‘Fagrak’ to urge themselves forward. He quickly ducked his head back with a curse, backing away from the cave mouth while raising his flashlight.

Since these troglodytes were cave-dwellers…

He clicked the button on the flashlight twice, the bulb beginning to flash quickly as the gobs poured out of the cavern. He wasn’t able to count how many had been in there, the darkness had concealed their true numbers from him. So far five of them had emerged, wielding stone-tipped spears leveled in his general direction.

As he suspected, they groaned at the bright flashing LED, their eyes shutting before they began thrusting their spears blindly. Joseph darted forward, keeping the light fixed on the group as he reared back his arm and swung. The mace crashed down on top of the skull of the nearest mutant, cracking its skull like an eggshell and caving it inward. Blood cascaded from the creature's eyes and nose as it crumpled to the ground, dead nigh-instantly.

He swung again, catching another in the temple with a similar result, sending the creature cartwheeling into one of its fellows and sending the both of them down in a tangle of limbs. He charged the still-living goblin, delivering a vicious stomp to its forehead and caving in its skull. He smiled as he reared on another one, leaping toward it as it tried to retreat back into the cave. He swung, steel crunching bone and sending another mutant back to hell.

More goblins came from the entrance, wielding stone daggers and wooden clubs, charging him with desperate fervor. Joseph didn’t even bother dodging their attacks, letting the primitive weaponry glance off his armored trench coat and plate-armor, still smiling as he caved in more green warty flesh with his trusty trench mace. Sweat poured down his brow as his exertions went on, but he paid it no mind, the thrill of the fight overwhelming his discomfort.

Eventually, it all stopped, and he found himself leaning over, hands on his knees and breathing ragged. Joseph moved away from the cave entrance and back toward the bushes as he tried to catch his breath, his body heat trapped beneath his visor. He flipped it up, putting his mace n’ flashlight away before wiping the sweat from his face with a rag from his pouch. He hadn’t fought like that in decades! It was so exhilarating, he dearly hoped that there were more inside the cavern, for he wasn’t done fighting yet!

When he finally caught his breath, he stood up straight, closing his visor before examining the carnage that he’d left in his rampage. Twisted corpses littered the ground around him, a dozen laying half-way out of the cave mouth. He counted about twenty in all… and none of them were breathing. That was good, but now the bodies needed to be pulped, else they would rise again. So he went to work, shattering knees and elbows by twisting them out of shape before stomping the heads apart. Now when they revived, their bodies would be totally useless! Now this was proper survivor etiquette, it was polite to future scavengers that would come here after him.

He drew his mace and flashlight again before finally passing through the curtain and into the dank cavern. If there was any rank smell, his mask thankfully saved him from suffering through it. The path seemed to slope downward with no branching paths, so down he went, keeping his eyes peeled for moving stones.

He’d encountered creatures in caves before that had managed to look no different from a rock, maybe there was a subspecies of goblin that could do the same? Well, nothing looked out of the ordinary so far… that was until he reached the bottom of the slope. Three paths branched from here, looking oddly smooth, for a supposedly natural rock formation. Had these goblins smoothed it out themselves? They didn’t seem to have the tools necessary to do stoneworking, nor the mental capacity to do so.

Welp, time to find out why!

He decided to go down the tunnel to his left, his shoulders nearly brushing the walls as he went. They hadn’t tailored this place to be sized for him of course, but he couldn’t help but feel irritated at the cramped space. If any more freaks came at him then they’d have to settle on a straight kick instead of his mace, at least until this tunnel opened up. Thankfully it wasn’t long before he found himself in a new chamber, the floor covered with thick hay and littered with all manner of detritus.

Another tunnel led out of this den, but he could see that it was a dead end. Likely it was in the process of being carved out, maybe it would lead to the chamber that the center path led to? Hard to say, but this room didn’t seem to have anything useful in it. He supposed that he could rifle through the hay to see if there was anything worthwhile but he genuinely doubted it. Besides, there were piles of fetid goop and puddles of liquid here and there of unknown origin, and he was not going to put his gloves through that.

He turned, leaving the chamber with a shake of his head before coming back to the center, opting to take the right path this time. This one ended in a wide chamber that was a bit… morbid. Bones of all manner of animal littered the ground, flies buzzing around the piles of feces surrounding the carcasses. Canines, felines, bovines, among others… along with some human skulls dotted here and there.

Well, at least now he knew that those corpses would never rise, best leave this festering hovel to check out the final path. Maybe there were more gobs hiding in the final chamber? He hoped dearly that there were, it was best to eradicate such dens entirely. When finally he passed through that final tunnel, he emerged into the final and largest room. With only his flashlight to illuminate the surrounding darkness, he moved in, clenching his mace tightly. He didn’t hear anything scuttling around yet… did all the goblins really charge out at once?

“Mashak.” A deep voice said off to his left.

Joseph whirled, readying his mace to strike at the charging goblin. Yet, no goblin was there. Instead, sitting chained to the stone wall, was a stout man with a long beard and bald head. He could tell that the man was of shorter stature, even with him sitting down. His ratty black beard reached down to brush the floor between his crossed legs, and his sharp dark eyes squinted at Joseph’s flashlight. The stranger was pale, as if he’d rarely seen the sun in his life, but his figure was wider than almost any man he’d seen.

The man looked… well, he looked like a dwarf, of the fantasy variety. Wearing a tattered brown shirt, green trousers and nothing else, he looked disheveled. Another mutation or did he have dwarfism? He lacked the distinct facial features of someone with dwarfism, and his proportions didn’t match either. The dwarf’s broad hand gripped the chain tightly, hefting it up for Joseph to examine. Clearly he wanted to be freed of this imprisonment, and Joseph saw no reason to deny the unspoken request. He knelt down beside the man, placing a hand to his chest.

“Joseph.” He said, “And you can’t understand me, can ya?”

The dwarf’s frown deepened, and he simply shook his head, “Mashak un maned Joseph?” He asked, pointing a broad finger. “Et ou Touvolder? Ou on espek Faesh darag, ton angras fo ou et espek Touvolder.”

There was that word again, ‘Touvolder’, like what Morla had called him before, along with ‘Faesh’. He felt like those words were of particular importance to their lexicon, he’d need to learn what they meant as soon as possible. Maybe the dwarf could somehow inform him of their meaning? It was unlikely, this guy didn’t know a lick of English and he didn’t know a lick of whatever gobbledegook he was speaking.

“Joseph.” He said again, pointing to himself.

The dwarf then pointed a thumb to his chest, “Varig, oushe la Ugals.”

“Varig.” Joseph said, pointing to him.

Varig nodded in reply, and once again lifted the section of chain closest to his neck. Joseph simply nodded, rummaging in his tool belt and pulling out his locksmithing tools. He was by no means a master lock picker, but he could certainly get this padlock opened. The wastes made some things essential to learn, especially if one wanted to break in somewhere without making too much noise.

It took him a few minutes, but eventually he got it, undoing the clasp and freeing the dwarf from his imprisonment. Varig stood with a groan, popping his back and stretching before offering a hand to Joseph. Varig was only head-height with his stomach, but his rough hands were wide paws that looked like they could bend steel with ease. If Joe took that hand, Varig might just be able to get an advantage on him if he turned aggressive. Joe simply took a step back and bowed, resulting in the dwarf retracting his hand. Varig simply repeated the motion, taking a step back and bowing before turning to leave.

Before he passed into the tunnel though, he stopped, back still facing Joseph before he said, “Ugals delbinded ot Joseph, lit et nagai.”

He had no idea what that meant, but he had a feeling it meant well. Joseph gave a quick wave, “Safe travels.”

Varig nodded, turning away and finally passing into the tunnel. He was a free man again, and Joseph didn’t want to force the dwarf into a conversation he didn’t want to have. With how quickly he left, it was likely that he had somewhere important he had to be… and he’d not keep Varig from whatever business that might be. There would be other locals he could learn the language from around here somewhere, he’d just have to find one that could afford to spend the time on him.

Now, it was time to strip this place of all that it was worth!