The Human From a Dungeon

Nick Smith

Adventurer Level: 7

Human - American

It had been a few days since we left Kirkena, and the trip had been smooth so far. Nash said that since it's just us guarding the carts, we can't do training. I'm thankful for that, but I think the real reason is because he doesn't want my level to surpass his. He'd been acting a little jealous of how quickly I've been levelling up.

Still, it's nice to be able to lay down, put my feet up on the side of the cart, relax, and enjoy the ride without muscle aches. One side of the road was lined with a dense forest, and the other side was a flat plain filled with various wild grasses and flowers. In the morning, the sun rose over the plain warming us up, and in the afternoon the trees provided a nice little bit of shade to help cool us off.

It was the afternoon now, and I was so relaxed that I was right about to drift off for a nap when a bump in the road sent me floating for a second. I came down hard and Ares appeared to protect my head, but my armor did little to save my poor back.

"Argh," I groaned.

"Sorry about that," Imlor said.

"Not your fault, Imlor," Nash chuckled. "Serves him right for lounging on the job."

"Oh come on," I complained. "You said that these paths are the safe ones."

"Relatively safe," Yulk said with a grin. "As in, safer than the adventurer paths. It's still more than possible to run into complications out here."

"Like what?" I asked.

"Monsters, for one. Though they're a rare occurrence," Nash chimed in. "Out here the most common complication is banditry."

"Indeed," Yulk agreed. "They don't usually leave survivors, either. Unless they're hoping for a ransom, of course."

"What? Why not? Wouldn't that make the guards come after them?"

"Not guards, soldiers. Those soldiers won't deploy until there's a pattern of disappearances, or if there's a report of banditry. So by killing the survivors, they buy themselves some time and the chance to rob more people and go to ground. Plus, if the survivors make it back to town the soldiers will know what they're dealing with, and be better prepared to bring the bandits to justice."

"Justice..." I trialed off, thinking of all the different brands of justice that were used during the medieval times.

Back then, more often than not justice meant death. If you put up a fight, they'd kill you during it. If you surrendered, they'd execute you. Usually in pretty nasty ways. It was like all the leaders back then were competing for who could come up with the most disgusting way to end a human life. I don't really know where I stand on the death penalty, I'm sure some of them deserved what they got, but it's easy to take modern justice for granted.

"Yeah, justice," Nash repeated. "Can't have them killing honest folk who are just trying to make a living. Too few of 'em around as it is."

Nash's stance on the matter caused the rest of us to fall silent in contemplation. I started running through what-if scenarios in my head to make sense of it all. Another bump in the road interrupted my musing, and I decided to adjust my seating arrangements to prevent further spinal trauma.

The carts made their way along the road, the goods in the lead cart making some metallic clanging noises whenever we hit another bump. It sounded somewhat like a silverware drawer, but if the silverware were extra large and heavy. I was nearly about to ask about the contents when Imlor turned to us with a serious expression.

"Fire ahead," he said. "Looks like trouble."

We scrambled up into better positions to see what he was talking about. Further along the road was a cart, on fire and with two of its wheels broken apart, scattered along the road. There was no sign of whatever had been pulling the cart or its owner.

As we drew closer, that changed. Over the sound of our carts rolling along, there was a clamor coming from the woods along the side of the road. An arrow sailed from between the trees and Imlor stopped the cart in alarm. I glanced at Nash and Yulk, who were already preparing to exit the cart. I drew my sword as a small man ran out from the tree line.

He was in a panic, and had a bit of rope tied to one of his wrists. His head turned to look at the flaming cart, and he stopped for a moment. He changed his mind about this pause as another arrow flew in his general direction, and he quickly turned and started running our way. He was so panicked that he ran a good hundred feet or so before he noticed us. All of us, Imlor included, jumped from the cart and started running in his direction.

"NO!" the man shouted as he continued to run. "GET BACK!"

I paused, but Yulk and Nash continued to chase after Imlor. A few tall orcs exited the tree line as Imlor caught up to the man. I started to run again as my brothers passed Imlor to fight the other orcs.

As I caught up to Imlor, I got a good look at both the man and the orcs. The man was wearing fancy clothing, a blue tunic with shiny leather shoes and gold trim on everything. He looked a lot like the guy who was with the High Chief, but his face was different. The rope attached to one of his wrists had an empty loop, and his free hand was bleeding.

The orcs looked tough even by orc standards. Covered with little more than pants and scars, they shouted a challenge at my brothers. There was little doubt regarding what was going on. These orcs were bandits, pursuing an escaped kidnapping victim.

There was a loud pop as I passed Imlor, and I heard the dwarf shout something from behind me. I turned to look and saw him laying flat on the ground, with Imlor looking down at him with a confused expression.

"What's going on?" I shouted.

He turned around to say something, but a thunderous sound drowned him out. I felt the weight of Ares appear on my head, and a moment later I was lifted from my feet and sent sailing through the air. My vision went dark for a time, and when it returned my ears were ringing. I rolled onto my side and tried shaking my head to clear the sound. It didn't work.

What the hell was that? An explosion? From where? I quickly looked around, and saw Imlor helping the dwarf to his feet. Both of them were covered in dust, but Imlor had it all over. He must have been thrown just like me. I glanced at my brothers. Yulk was on the ground, and Nash was bent over him. I tried to get up but my arms felt like jelly. I collapsed back to the ground. I had to see if Yulk is okay. He's gotta be okay. If not I'll...

As I tried to get to my feet again, I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked up to see Imlor. He mouthed something, but my ears were still ringing. I concentrated hard to hear him through the sharp, steady tone. It began to fade, and I was finally able to pick up what he was saying.

"Nick? Nick, are you okay? Can you get up?" he asked, his voice sounding very concerned.

I managed to get to my knees, and noticed that my right hand was bloody. As I raised it up to look at it, my hand's shadow travelled a bit and I saw the sunlight hit the ground under my hand. Why can I see the ground through my hand? What kind of optical illusion is that? I almost laughed, but then the pain set in.

There's a hole in my hand. It's big enough to put my thumb through it. How did that happen? My shoulder hurts too, is there a hole there? Oh god, my leg is killing me. It's still there, right? Of course it is, I'm sitting on them right now. Don't panic, calm down, deep breaths, this isn't so bad. Just wrap it up and Ten will take care of it. Yulk can help... Oh god, Yulk!

"Are you alright? You're blee... huh..." Imlor said.

His tone cut right through my concerns like a red-hot meat cleaver through a room temperature stick of butter. I focused on him with what seemed like tunnel vision, and noticed he was holding the upper right side of his stomach. He pulled his hand away, and I noticed that the light brown dust had become darker. As if it were wet with something. We both seemed to notice the bright crimson blood on his hand at the same time.

"Oh. I'm... I'm bleeding too," he said, then looked at me.

Our eyes locked and we stared at each other in shock for a full second before I watched his eyes roll into the back of his head. He seemed to fall in slow motion, and I tried to catch him but I was moving even slower. Everything hurt, but I pushed through the pain to stop his head from slamming into the ground. I grit my teeth through the sharp pain as his head connected with my injured hand, but the pain doesn't matter. He needs help, how can I help? What should I do? Yulk!

"Yulk!" I shouted, looking around.

"Yulk's out cold!" Nash shouted back.

"Imlor's been hurt! Bad!"

I heard a metallic clang and turned to look at Nash. He was fighting off two bandits who had somehow survived the explosion. He was using his two swords this time. One sword for each bandit. I noted that the remnants of the flaming cart were no longer intact, that must have been where the explosion came from. Feeling numb, I looked back at Imlor. He was pale. Too pale.

"Hey, boy," someone said.

I looked up and saw a dwarf. That's right, he was the one who told us to run and get back. Why didn't we listen? If we had, Imlor would be okay. How do I fix this? This can't be happening. How do I make him okay? What do I do?

"Here, put this on his wound and push down," the dwarf said, handing me a bundle of cloth. "He's out, so don't worry about hurting him. We've got to staunch the bleeding."

The cloth was blue with gold trim. It looked familiar. I glanced at the dwarf and noticed he was missing his sleeve. He'd ripped it off, and I was now holding it. I pushed the sleeve against the center of the blood stain and pushed.

'Nick,' a voice in my head said.

I tried to reply, but my mind isn't working right. It feels like I'm swimming without my body. How do I help Imlor? Is Yulk okay? Should I go help Nash against the bandits? I... I can't...

"You're adventurers, right?" the dwarf asked.

I nodded.

"Adventurers usually travel with a healer. Who's your healer?"

"The bald orc in the robe over there," I gestured with my head. "But he's hurt too."

The dwarf looked over my shoulder and got a nervous look on his face as he noticed Nash fighting two bandits at once.

'Nick, Imlor's wound indicates that his liver has been struck with shrapnel. You need to check for an exit wound.'

"How do I do that?" I said out loud.

'Check his back for a similar wound.'

The dwarf gave me an odd look as I rolled Imlor to check his back. I couldn't see, so I wiped my hand on a clean part of my pants and swiped it across his back. It came back red. Blood. So much blood. He's bleeding in the front and the back. How do I stop the bleeding? I can't push on both sides at once. He's going to die and there's nothing I can do about it.

"Shit," the dwarf hissed. "We need a healer."

He said he was going to spend more time with his family, that he'd retire from the road after this job. This delivery would let him hire on employees to do the majority of the work for him, and he'd finally be able to see his wife and kids more. He'd stop being an absentee father, and his kid's lives would be better for it. He's a good person, this isn't fair.

"Kid," the dwarf said gently, putting his hand on my shoulder.

"Why did this happen? I... I don't understand," I said, dimly aware of the tears streaming down my face.

"My... my cart had a bunch of mining equipment in it, including explosives," the dwarf said quietly. "Those assholes decided that I'd make a good hostage but my equipment wasn't worth their time, so they torched the cart."

Imlor's breathing was shallow. What can I do? Stiches wouldn't work, he'd need surgery to seal up the internal bleeding. A tourniquet? How do you put a tourniquet on a stomach wound? Maybe if we cauterize the wound... but would that just make it worse? If only I could...

'I don't know if this will work or not, but try casting a healing spell. Imagine the wound healing.'

That's right! Magic! I felt myself snap back to reality and I spread out my fingers and imagined the wound closing, but that didn't work. My magic core wasn't primed. I took a few deep breaths, and while it was charging I tried to imagine a liver with a hole in it, then imagining the hole closing and the liver being intact. I closed my eyes to get a better mental picture. Come on...

-Minor heal unlocked-

"Laeh Ronim Tsac" my mouth said.

I felt a tingle as the magic travel from my chest, through my arm, and out my fingers. I willed it to continue, pushing all the magic I could into it. I kept charging my magic with deep breaths, refilling my core and mixing the magics even as it was being drained. It somehow felt like sprinting.

'Is it working?' I asked Ten.

'I can't tell, the clothing is blocking our view of the wound. Lift it up and check.'

'Not yet, I want to make sure.'

I kept the spell active until I felt the last sputtering of magic flow through my arm. My magic-core was fully drained. I felt light-headed as I lifted his shirt to check his wound. I blinked my eyes heavily a few times as I looked upon his freshly mended skin. There was a slight red mark to indicate where the hole had been.

"He's... he's healed," the dwarf was surprised. "You're a healer?"

"I... I wasn't a minute ago," I panted, trying not to pass out. I blinked my eyes again and shook my head to stave off the tunnel vision that was forming. Not working.

"Actually, come to think of it, what are you anyway?" he asked.

"I'm..." I managed to say before I passed out.