[SP-F01] Tusk City <<The Second Lesson, Is Also Free>>

[Furrow 0]

                Furrow had just completed his previous task for the alchemist, Zackariah, and had been asked to help with another. While he had initially planned to go out and practice his combat skills, he wouldn’t ignore a request asked of him. After learning how rewarding performing a quest could be, he was all for doing another. Plus, there was plenty of time left in the day. He had eaten lunch already and taken care of his other business early in the morning since he had planned to be gone all day anyways. Thus, there was no reason for him to turn down the older gentleman. Plus, the guy looked like he could use a hand. He was old, and there wasn’t an apprentice in sight.

                “I need some materials. I have been quite busy lately and I have not been able to go out to replenish my stores.” The blacksmith, Lyle Tealeaf, waved for Furrow to follow him around the counter to his workspace. The heat from the burners and furnace made the Adventurer gasp at first. He coughed and used saliva to moisten his mouth. Lyle was quite the man if he was working in these conditions every day.

                “Here.” Lyle plucked a white object out of a small bucket and brushed it off with a small towel. It was a thick, white colored curved object, like a boar tusk. “It’s a boar tusk.” Oh.

                “A boar tusk?” Furrow repeated as Lyle passed the object to him. The Adventurer raised it up and checked it, as though it was something entirely different than what he had seen a few dozen times before already.

                “Yes. I need three of them.” Lyle said. Furrow made the mental note as he passed the tusk back to the blacksmith. Lyle tossed the item into the bucket and led Furrow back out to the front. “I don’t need the large ones. Ones on the pups will do.”

                “Alright. I’ll be back soon with them.” Furrow nodded, then left for the fields again. On his way out, Lyle wished him luck. A gesture the Adventurer was thankful for. Fighting anything in this world was dangerous, so luck was something he needed a lot of.

                Instead of going back the way he had come, Furrow opted for another field area to do his grinding. He turned right and followed the road he was on for quite a way before weaving through some streets and to another gate. He would have gone back to the other field, there wasn’t a problem with it, but it was becoming crowded. After just the hour or two he had spent in the region, the number of players had multiplied. Furrow wasn’t an introvert and didn’t mind people, but he did mind people getting in his way or starting arguments over pork loins. That petty stuff wasn’t worth his time.

                Thus, he went to another zone. Leaving the city was initially the same as the previous area he had been in. It was crowded, and parties occupied all of the spawning spots. But he didn’t mind the long walk away from the city. He followed the road for about five minutes, turned and crossed over some hills. Behind them, there was a long slope down to another area. Soloist populated the back spaces, and a few parties were scattered. Furrow found a space, and got to work. His first target wasn’t too far off and grazed happily without a care in the world.

---

Word Count: 581

Thread Stats: [Stats locked on 12/29/17 at 11:27 PM] Edited in due to missing the rule during read through.

LV 3 - HP:60/60.

Stats: 3 DMG, 0 EVA, 1 MIT, 1 ACC. EN - 6

Edited December 30, 2017 by Furrow

[Furrow 0]

                Standing by and watching over the field, Furrow rested a hand on the pommel of his blade. The weapon weighed heavy on his hip, waiting to be drawn as he sorted the boars with his eyes. He needed three kills, and three drops. That was it. If he was lucky, he would get one drop with each kill. He didn’t be on that, though. No, he betted on the idea of being here a while. By the end of this, he would be tired and worn out. Just fighting young, little pups were about to take their toll on him. Thankfully, he knew how to control his breathing and his body. In the real world, fitness was one thing he maintained every morning before he sat down in his chair. As long as he maintained his mental state and his breathing, he would make it out of this just fine.

                The first target would be the boar just to his left and twent meters away. The second was fifteen meters to the right of that, and the third was paired up with the second. If Furrow was lucky, the two would separate. If not, he would have a brawl on his hands. But for now, he set off towards the loner. Separated from its parents, the younger boar nipped at the grass. Furrow steadied his breathing as he approached and wrapped his fingers firmly around the hilt of his sword. The tarnished, bronze handle barely shined anymore, but that didn’t make the weapon any less useful. The grip was sturdier because of the gritty handle, making his swings that much more powerful.

                And the blade? He maintained it every night. He pulled it free from the leather sheath on his hip and flicked it off to his left. He twisted it, reflecting the light off its side into the eyes of the young pup. The motion got its attention, as the pup squeal and squinted. When it looked up, Furrow was only a few steps away. The player narrowed his eyes and watched at the Boar Pup’s eyes flashed from a faint orange to a bright red; aggroed.

                He leveled his blade in front of himself and steadied his body, ready to fight. The boar charged first, but Furrow took the initial assault. With a light swing, he crossed his left arm under his right and slashed across the side of the Pup. He stepped through, avoiding the Pup’s own attack. But the Pup wouldn’t take the blow straight on. As Furrow attacked, the Pup dove and slid beneath the blade’s edge, avoiding the strike as well.

                Furrow snapped around on his heels and let out a single heavy breath. He wasn’t used to sword fighting just yet and his muscles were already getting warm. It would take a while for him to get used to that. Yet he eased his breathing and maintained his focus. As the boar pup scampered to its feet, he rushed in again.

---

Word Count: 581

Spoiler

 

Live Current Stats: Pre-Roll

Player: LV 3 - HP:60/60. Stats: 3 DMG, 0 EVA, 1 MIT, 1 ACC. EN - 6

Enemy A: Boar Pup - HP:5/5 , DMG: 3
Enemy B: Boar Pup - HP:5/5 , DMG: 3
Enemy C: Boar Pup - HP:5/5 , DMG: 3

Roll ID# 93022: Battle: 4 (+1), MOB: 5
Effect: No damage dealt. -2 Energy.

Live Current Stats: Post-Roll

Player: LV 3 - HP:60/60. Stats: 3 DMG, 0 EVA, 1 MIT, 1 ACC. EN - 4

Enemy A: Boar Pup - HP:5/5 , DMG: 3
Enemy B: Boar Pup - HP:5/5 , DMG: 3
Enemy C: Boar Pup - HP:5/5 , DMG: 3

 

 

Edited December 30, 2017 by Furrow

[Furrow 0]

Before the Boar pup could get its footing, Furrow attacked its exposed backside. The Pup was just turning to face the Adventurer again when the feeling of heat washed over its backside. Slicing across the boar and using the full length of his blade, Furrow cut deep and long. The entire left side of the Boar Pup’s body spread open, the digital insides flaring a hot pink from the deep blow. The Health bar above the Pup dropped dramatically, but not entirely. Furrow smirked and snapped his blade back in front of himself as he took several steps back, keeping the distance between himself and his target.

The boar recoiled after being hit successfully and rolled onto its back. Rather than rock back to its feet, though, the boar kept its momentum and rolled all the way over onto its feet. It hopped back up onto its hooves and shook its head. The wound on its side closed up, as were the rules. No blood leaked, no flesh dragged on the ground. It was clean combat aside from the initial hit. Compared to in the real world, this sort of fighting was child’s play. With no mess, emotions didn’t come out as strongly. Furrow remembered the first time he shot someone. It was messy, and the memory still plagues him.

The boar didn’t wait around for him to recall it, though. After setting its feet it rushed once more. Furrow gripped his sword and moved to strike again, but the burn in his arms needed more time to recover. This time, he would dodge.

As the boar closed, Furrow took two steps forward and then slid his back foot around to the right. Moving it in a wide circle, he twisted his body and the boar passed harmlessly by. He clutched his sword and moved to perform the same attack he had just done, hoping to finish the job this time.

 

---

Word Count: 321

Spoiler

 

Live Current Stats: Pre-Roll

Player: LV 3 - HP:60/60. Stats: 3 DMG, 0 EVA, 1 MIT, 1 ACC. EN - 5

Enemy A: Boar Pup - HP:5/5 , DMG: 3
Enemy B: Boar Pup - HP:5/5 , DMG: 3
Enemy C: Boar Pup - HP:5/5 , DMG: 3

Roll: ID# 93023: Battle: 9, MOB: 4
Effect: Player, Critical Basic Hit (4 DMG). Enemy A, Miss. -1 Energy.

Live Current Stats: Post-Roll

Player: LV 3 - HP:60/60. Stats: 3 DMG, 0 EVA, 1 MIT, 1 ACC. EN - 4

Enemy A: Boar Pup - HP:1/5 , DMG: 3
Enemy B: Boar Pup - HP:5/5 , DMG: 3
Enemy C: Boar Pup - HP:5/5 , DMG: 3

 

 

Edited December 30, 2017 by Furrow

[Furrow 0]

Boars, however, were not fools. Similar to hogs in that regard, Boars are dangerous even when young. They are cunning and are more than willing to run away rather than attack. But when cornered; their vicious tusks should not be ignored. Furrow lunged at the backside of the Boar Pup, blade held tight and ready to strike. He lined up his attack and was ready to slice when the young Pup showed its wits. With a quick hop, the Pup moved out of the arc of the sword. Furrow sucked his teeth as his blade passed harmlessly to the left. His eyes narrowed when he spotted the Pup already in the opening.

With a heavy bash and gouge, the Boar’s Tusks impaled Furrow’s right leg. One of the tusks cut through his knee, and another was buried into his thigh. The pain was excruciating and heat filled the limb. He ground his teeth together and grabbed the nape of the Pup’s neck. It twisted its head, digging its little tusks into his leg and causing more damage. The Adventurer winced and clenched his jaw tighter. Before the Pup could do more damage, Furrow ripped the creature from his limb and gave it a toss to put some space between them again. Quickly, he checked his health. The hit felt worse than it was. It knocked a meager five HP off his total bar, but it had left him wounded.

His right leg lost some of its support factor and he doubted he would get it back immediately, so he adjusted his footing. Using more of his left foot and leaning forward slightly, he balanced his right leg on his toes. The more acute angle sent more pain up to his brain, but it kept him balanced. Until his leg came back to him; he would have to deal with it. Furrow spat and prepped for his next strike.

---

Word Count: 318

Spoiler

 

Live Current Stats: Pre-Roll

Player: LV 3 - HP:60/60. Stats: 3 DMG, 0 EVA, 1 MIT, 1 ACC. EN - 5

Enemy A: Boar Pup - HP:1/5 , DMG: 3
Enemy B: Boar Pup - HP:5/5 , DMG: 3
Enemy C: Boar Pup - HP:5/5 , DMG: 3

Roll ID# 93024 results: Battle: 1, MOB: 10.
Effect: Player Whiffed. Boar Critical Hit +2 (5 DMG - 1 MIT). -2 Energy.

Live Current Stats: Post-Roll

Player: LV 3 - HP:56/60. Stats: 3 DMG, 0 EVA, 1 MIT, 1 ACC. EN - 3

Enemy A: Boar Pup - HP:1/5 , DMG: 3
Enemy B: Boar Pup - HP:5/5 , DMG: 3
Enemy C: Boar Pup - HP:5/5 , DMG: 3

 

 

Edited December 30, 2017 by Furrow

[Furrow 0]

The Boar, smelling victory and blood in the air, charged. Furrow tensed his right leg and ate the mass amount of pain he felt as he lunged to meet the small foe. He put his body straight in the center of the boar’s path and drew back his blade out to his left. Gripping it, his left arm tensed as he aligned his shot. If he missed, he would have to take another one of those hits. So this was all, or nothing. His eyes opened wide as the distance collapsed and he slammed his right foot down. The instant he did, his balance collapsed.

The knee supporting him snapped and he started to fall, but he forced his body forward. He thrust his blade and buried it right between the eyes of the little boar pup. The blade cut into the animal and stabbed into the floor, stopping it in its tracks. The hindlegs of the creature lifted as if the pup had run into a wall, but they flopped down. Motionless, the pup dispersed into a scattering of pixels. Furrow knelt down beside his blade and grit his teeth. The wound was closing up now and the pain had begun to fade, but damn that hurt. It was like fighting with shin splints.

Furrow heaved a sigh and sat down. He took in a few deep breaths, set down his blade beside him, and tapped at the screen when the loot was sent to him. He tapped open the screen and read the contents of his victory alert. To his joy Boar Tusk was on the list. He nodded and let himself rest, giving his body a few minutes to recover after the fight.

This would be a good time for a beer.

---

Word Count: 295

Spoiler

 

Live Current Stats: Pre-Roll

Player: LV 3 - HP:56/60. Stats: 3 DMG, 0 EVA, 1 MIT, 1 ACC. EN - 4

Enemy A: Boar Pup - HP:1/5 , DMG: 3
Enemy B: Boar Pup - HP:5/5 , DMG: 3
Enemy C: Boar Pup - HP:5/5 , DMG: 3

Roll ID# 93025: Battle: 9, MOB: 8
Effect: Player Critical Strike on Boar. Boar is killed.

Live Current Stats: Post-Roll

Player: LV 3 - HP:56/60. Stats: 3 DMG, 0 EVA, 1 MIT, 1 ACC. EN - 3

Enemy A: Boar Pup - HP:0/5 , DMG: 3
Enemy B: Boar Pup - HP:5/5 , DMG: 3
Enemy C: Boar Pup - HP:5/5 , DMG: 3

Loot Roll: ID# 93027: Loot: 11.

Quest Material Received. [1/3] Gathered.

 

 

Edited December 30, 2017 by Furrow

[Furrow 0]

                But beer wasn’t something he had access to so readily anymore. Nor did he have his other treasure. As if taking a long drag off the end of a cigar, Furrow breathed in the crisp air of the early evening. A gentle breeze licked at his cheeks and helped his body relax. If he wasn’t out here to fight, he probably wouldn’t have minded taking a nap somewhere. The pairing helped him enjoy these moments because of the warmth the alcohol gave him, and because of the flavor some of his cigars had. Both were luxuriesm luxuries he would have to get used to not having anymore. Alcohol existed in this world, but the buzzed feeling he got didn’t. The sole purpose of drinking alcohol, for him, was to get that nice buzz. Without it; it was just throwing away money.

                Even so he still partook in buying some. He’d sit down at taverns for hours, sipping away at a large mug full of drink. He would throw his coin away and just enjoy the moment. He would listen to others tell their stories all the while sitting in the corner probably looking like quite the creep. He still didn’t have any stories to tell himself, but that was fine. He hadn’t fought anything big and scary, hadn’t been in a life or death situation, and hadn’t received a rare item drop. He hadn’t faced off with a rival or been jumped by PKers. He hadn’t accidentally attracted too many monsters that forced him to run for his life, and hadn’t suffered from watching a close friend die. Well, he had suffered from the last one, just not in the game. And that was the emotion that tugged on him the most.

---

Word Count: 292

[Furrow 0]

                In the other world, home, there were people he could call and talk to every day. There were people he could go meet whenever he was lonely or bored. He had graves to visit every Sunday, flowers to place every month, and family friends to check up on. In the real world, he had duties that he could not miss on because it would tell him he had forgotten. Forgotten all of the memories of his brothers, all of the memories of their good and bad times, and especially the memories of their deaths. To him, missing a grave or missing a party felt like a hot knife cutting into him. It was almost as if he had failed their memory.

                But while heaven was even further away now, he felt at ease being here. After deciding to live again, he began to visit the Monument every morning. He looked at all of the numbers on the big list every visit and started to memorize them, one by one. Ten-thousand names, with several thousand already crossed off. Furrow visited that site to make up for the lost cemeteries and knelt down before it. He prayed not to the god of peace, but to the god of war. He asked for success, for the right to come home, and for the safety of everyone else who was fighting, too, both in the game and in the real world. It was his ritual and while he wasn’t religious it made him feel better. Whether his fallen brothers in blue heard him and watched over him or not, he did not know, but he liked to think that they were too busy having fun to pay him any mind.

---

Word Count: 286

[Furrow 0]

                The Adventurer closed his eyes for a moment, took in another deep breath, and blew the lung full up towards the clouds. He let his mind settle, smirked at their smiling faces, and steadied his soul. The injury to his leg had recovered and the game had healed him up. His health bar was fully green again, and his stamina felt recovered. His muscles were warmed up now but the burn from wielding his weapon was gone. He got back to his feet and stretched, getting the feeling back into each of his limbs and extremities after the short break. Once he was set, he scouted out the Boar Pup he had noted before.

                A few meters off, his second target was waiting. Its snout sniffed at the air, searching for something else to eat, and led the little animal away from its compatriot. Furrow yanked his blade out of the earth and gave it a brief twist. He ran the edge along his armor, cleaning it of any potential residue, and then held it firmly. After waiting another few seconds for the target to get further away from its friend, Furrow walked over towards it to fight. Attacking multiple boars at once wasn’t a difficult challenge and even he could do it, but he didn’t mind being careful. The game was a game and it was meant to be played smart. If he wanted to make it home; he needed to be smarter.

                Thus, he approached the Boar from the back, and took the initiative.

---

Word Count: 256

Edited December 30, 2017 by Furrow

[Furrow 0]

                Just like the first engagement, Furrow gripped onto the handle of his sword and lined up the strike with his eyes. In his mind, he outlined the path of his sword and focused. The sweet spot, just along the thigh and up the boar’s back, was his mark. With a long, sweeping motion he brought the back of his sword across his vision. His left arm arced in an uppercut, swung to gut the Pup from below and toss it up slightly into the air to set up the next strike. In his head, things went perfect. But in his eyes, things changed. The unpredictability factor of the pup kicked in. As his blade started to climb, the Boar Pup squealed and kicked out of the way of the weapon, likely spooked by the footsteps and breathing sounds of the Adventurer.

                Harmless and useless, the blade cut through nothing but air. Furrow grit his teeth as all of the power in his sword caused him to nearly throw the thing. It shot straight up into the air, his firm grip the only thing keeping it from flying away. Furrow huffed and immediately hopped to the side to avoid a retaliatory attack from the Pup. He reset his stance and rolled his shoulder. Fatigue bit him. His muscles burned from the violent stretch they just got from the miss. It took him a few breathes to resettle, but once he properly held his blade in front of him again, he lunged back at the Pup.

---

Word Count: 254

Spoiler

 

Live Current Stats: Pre-Roll

Player: LV 3 - HP:60/60. Stats: 3 DMG, 0 EVA, 1 MIT, 1 ACC. EN - 6

Enemy A: Boar Pup - HP:0/5 , DMG: 3
Enemy B: Boar Pup - HP:5/5 , DMG: 3
Enemy C: Boar Pup - HP:5/5 , DMG: 3

Roll ID# 93031: Battle: 1, MOB: 5
Effect: Player Critical Miss. Mob Missed.

Live Current Stats: Post-Roll

Player: LV 3 - HP:60/60. Stats: 3 DMG, 0 EVA, 1 MIT, 1 ACC. EN - 4

Enemy A: Boar Pup - HP:0/5 , DMG: 3
Enemy B: Boar Pup - HP:5/5 , DMG: 3
Enemy C: Boar Pup - HP:5/5 , DMG: 3

 

 

Edited December 30, 2017 by Furrow

[Furrow 0]

                Without much worry for the pup returning an attack, Furrow moved in close and swung his blade in a horizontal attack. Almost in a whip like manner, he slashed at the air with the intent of cutting out a chunk of the Pup’s backside. The Boar Pup wasn’t willing to turn into quick bacon just yet, though, and its backside shimmied out of the way of the strike. Furrow whiffed, but his body locked to keep his momentum from pulling him as he rolled his wrist. The blade’s edge twisted and he setup another quick strike. As the Boar was turning to face him, he cut back across his body. The edge of his Greek-styled blade dug into the fatty flesh of his target, carving out a long, deep line from the back thigh to the Boar’s plump shoulder. The pup squealed and staggered away. Furrow rolled his wrist back forward and stepped in for another strike. Raising his arm high, Furrow swung down as if he were holding a hammer. The blade glinted and reflected the sunlight as it coasted towards the ground. But the blade stopped mid-swing.

                With the wide and heavy motion, Furrow left his body open with no chance for him to counter an attack. The Pup, undaunted by the wound in its side, returned the favor. The boar kicked off the ground and shouldered into the unprotected player with all of its weight. Off balance, Furrow was forced backwards and pushed down onto his backside from the sudden charge. He grit his teeth and grabbed the Pup by the nape of its neck. Securing his grip, he tugged and ripped, yanking the squealing and kicking animal off his body to free himself. As the pup scrambled back to its feet, Furrow leaned up onto his knees then rose off the ground. He rolled his neck and tapped his sword against his thigh.

                Now he was annoyed.

---

Word Count: 321

Spoiler

 

Live Current Stats: Pre-Roll

Player: LV 3 - HP:60/60. Stats: 3 DMG, 0 EVA, 1 MIT, 1 ACC. EN - 5

Enemy A: Boar Pup - HP:0/5 , DMG: 3
Enemy B: Boar Pup - HP:5/5 , DMG: 3
Enemy C: Boar Pup - HP:5/5 , DMG: 3

Roll ID# 93032: Battle: 5 (+1), MOB: 10
Effect: Player deals 3 DMG to boar. Boar critically hits player, causing 4 damage. (3+2 DMG - 1 MIT)

Live Current Stats: Post-Roll

Player: LV 3 - HP:56/60. Stats: 3 DMG, 0 EVA, 1 MIT, 1 ACC. EN - 4

Enemy A: Boar Pup - HP:0/5 , DMG: 3
Enemy B: Boar Pup - HP:2/5 , DMG: 3
Enemy C: Boar Pup - HP:5/5 , DMG: 3

 

 

Edited January 2, 2018 by Furrow

[Furrow 0]

                The Boar, energized by its successful attack, turned to attack almost immediately. Furrow gripped onto his blade and let the boar come, his eyes narrowing as the knee-high creature huffed in victory. But, the little animal was far from that outcome. The Adventurer stomped down and planted his left foot firmly and raised his right leg up to his chest. As the boar came within jumping distance of its little legs, Furrow dropped his right foot and smashed his boot down onto the boar’s skull. Right between its eyes and tusks, the boar was driven to the ground and pinned in place. It kicked and whined through its clamped mouth, unable to free itself from the heavy foot. Furrow let out a long, slow breath as if hissing as he glared at the beast. He had his leg gutted before, and now he had been tackled. This was starting to get on his nerves.

                Furrow twisted his sword and kicked the Pup out from beneath him. Its head did a little bounce to the right. As the head swung back left, Furrow drove his sword through its skull. The weapon vanished as it pushed into the left side of the pup’s head, the burst out of the right in a dazzling explosion of digital red cubes. The pig stopped moving, stopped breathing, and stopped squealing. The weapon twisted and ripped free as Furrow yanked it out of the wound. Drained of hit points, the pup listed to its side and exploded into digital fragments. It never made another sound.

                The battle ended in silence, and the Adventurer whose mind was now hot walked away without a word. He tapped on the floating menu in front of him to confirm his drops and checked for the quest material. After confirming he had two of three Tusks, he strode towards the next target without a break. He thought of taking a break to shake off the pain he felt in his chest, but that wasn’t necessary. He felt well enough to fight again, so he decided to put an end to this.

---

Word Count: 350

Spoiler

 

Live Current Stats: Pre-Roll

Player: LV 3 - HP:56/60. Stats: 3 DMG, 0 EVA, 1 MIT, 1 ACC. EN - 5

Enemy A: Boar Pup - HP:0/5 , DMG: 3
Enemy B: Boar Pup - HP:2/5 , DMG: 3
Enemy C: Boar Pup - HP:5/5 , DMG: 3

Roll ID# 93033: Battle: 9, MOB: 3
Effect: Player lands critical hit on Boar. Enemy B - KIA

Live Current Stats: Post-Roll

Player: LV 3 - HP:56/60. Stats: 3 DMG, 0 EVA, 1 MIT, 1 ACC. EN - 4

Enemy A: Boar Pup - HP:0/5 , DMG: 3
Enemy B: Boar Pup - HP:0/5 , DMG: 3
Enemy C: Boar Pup - HP:5/5 , DMG: 3

 

Loot Roll: ID# 93034 results: Loot: 20

Quest Material Received. [2/3] Gathered

Edited January 2, 2018 by Furrow

[Furrow 0]

                Easing his breathing, slow and steady, the Adventurer’s walk increased to a jog. The Boar Pup twenty meters away from him lifted its snout, eyes curious. Its ears twisted and flopped on his head as its jaw worked the mouthful of green in its teeth. Furrow clutched his blade, already a step ahead of the Pup. While the Pup watched, seemingly unaware of the approaching event, Furrow dissected its body until he found the spot he was confident enough with hitting. The twenty meters vanished swiftly beneath his feet. The distance turned into seconds gone and once again, he attacked. He stomped hard with his right foot and raised his left hand. The tip of his blade angled down, pointed straight at the Pup’s fatty shoulder. Recognition crossed the Boar’s face and it’s eyes flared red. The two brightly colored orbs and their meaning was reflected in the swift change of the Boar’s stance.

                As Furrow’s blade came down like an arrow, the Boar hopped to the right. The tip of forged steel crushed nothing but flowers and earth. Furrow sucked his teeth, yanking his blade back up. The Boar charged and struck his side. The motion shoved him off balance and shaved off some of his hit points, but it wasn’t as bad of a hit as the previous ones. Furrow recovered quickly and sucked in air, regaining his composure. Feet set and hips lowered, he put pressure into his knees and lurched forward, his eyes and mind applying the variables to the battle equation.

                He needed to be quick.

---

Word Count: 261

Spoiler

 

Live Current Stats: Pre-Roll

Player: LV 3 - HP:56/60. Stats: 3 DMG, 0 EVA, 1 MIT, 1 ACC. EN - 5

Enemy A: Boar Pup - HP:0/5 , DMG: 3
Enemy B: Boar Pup - HP:0/5 , DMG: 3
Enemy C: Boar Pup - HP:5/5 , DMG: 3

Roll ID# 93222 results: Battle: 2, MOB: 7
Effect: Furrow misses. Boar hits; (3-1= 2 DMG)

Live Current Stats: Post-Roll

Player: LV 3 - HP:54/60. Stats: 3 DMG, 0 EVA, 1 MIT, 1 ACC. EN - 3

Enemy A: Boar Pup - HP:0/5 , DMG: 3
Enemy B: Boar Pup - HP:0/5 , DMG: 3
Enemy C: Boar Pup - HP:5/5 , DMG: 3

 

 

Edited January 8, 2018 by Furrow

[Furrow 0]

                A rough grunt escaped the Adventurer’s clenched teeth as he swung heavily at the boar, his blade sweeping in a wide arc across his body. The Boar back stepped, dodged the sharpened edge, and lunged. Furrow retracted his sword arm quickly and twisted the flat edge to bear. His right hand sturdied the backside of his weapon-turned-shield as the boar slammed into it. The Pup’s tucks ground against the hardened edge. The noise of the grinding was slightly disorienting. It sounded like nails on a chalkboard, but slightly deeper in pitch. Furrow, unwilling to listen to the noise for long, shoved the pig back and snapped his wrist to the left. The blade came across his frame in another breath, gashing the exposed side of the Boar. A deep gash, and a familiar sight, tore open before Furrow’s eyes. He checked the pig’s health bar and watched it drain to a blaring red. Just a bit more.

                Spinning with his boot extended, Furrow smashed in the face of the Boar Pup. It knocked the creature a few paces back and caused it to roll. Unfortunately, the damage didn’t count. Furrow sucked his teeth and went to strike again. The Boar Pup rushed at that moment, breaching into his guard. Thankfully, it was too close for the attack to be dangerous. The top of the boar’s head slammed into his right arm he had curled to help spread the impact. The headbutt knocked him backwards and forced him to take several steps away from the Pup. His health bar ticked down ever so slightly, but enough to make him more annoyed.

                He’d finish this in one more strike.

---

Word Count: 277

Spoiler

 

Live Current Stats: Pre-Roll

Player: LV 3 - HP:54/60. Stats: 3 DMG, 0 EVA, 1 MIT, 1 ACC. EN - 4

Enemy A: Boar Pup - HP:0/5 , DMG: 3
Enemy B: Boar Pup - HP:0/5 , DMG: 3
Enemy C: Boar Pup - HP:5/5 , DMG: 3

Roll ID# 93694 results: Battle: 9, MOB: 6
Effect: Furrow lands a critical hit, Mob lands normal strike.

Live Current Stats: Post-Roll

Player: LV 3 - HP:52/60. Stats: 3 DMG, 0 EVA, 1 MIT, 1 ACC. EN - 3

Enemy A: Boar Pup - HP:0/5 , DMG: 3
Enemy B: Boar Pup - HP:0/5 , DMG: 3
Enemy C: Boar Pup - HP:1/5 , DMG: 3

 

 

Edited January 8, 2018 by Furrow

[Furrow 0]

                Furrow set his feet and took in a slow breath. He took a low stance and held out his right hand, as if to hold onto the air and balance himself. His left arm he held low, the flat end reflecting the sunlight into the eyes of the Boar Pup. The Pup snorted and kicked at the ground, its body swaying slightly from the recoil of Furrow’s attack. It’s red orbs blinked several times, then focused on the player in front of it. With an angry huff, the Boar squealed and rushed. Furrow narrowed his eyes and shifted his feet. His body rotated slightly and he sunk into his hips. Taking the stance of a cornerback ready to drop into coverage, he waited. For those last few hoof-falls, Furrow’s mind steeled his heart and body for the last attack.

                Just as the boar’s head tilted down and the tip of its tusks came to bear, Furrow’s body swivled into motion. His hips twisted, his leading right foot drug across the dirt like a lure, and his torso rotated. The Boar followed the small dust trail of Furrow’s right set of toes and it was blind to the attack from above. Using the full momentum of his twisting torso, Furrow’s blade came down like a butcher’s cleaver. In the real world, the result would’ve been a mess. The finely edged Greek blade split into the back of the boar’s fatty neck, splitting where would be the spinal cord and several thick muscles like butter. It cut deep. Red digital pixels sprayed out for a moment as the attack registered and flared in his view. The adventurer released his sword after the attack, letting the Boar take it for its last few steps.

                The boar fell to the ground and skidded for only a foot before laying there, motionless. Its eyes didn’t glaze over but it never took another breath. Just as its health bar depleted, Furrow ripped his sword from the wound and watched the animal burst into pixels. He flicked the blade to his side and stared down at the now vacant resting place. Waiting for final confirmation, Furrow contemplated if the pup felt pain.

                But the pinging of his drop notification reminded him that he didn’t care. He tapped at the air, checked to confirm he had received the boar tusks, then sheathed his blade. Objective complete.

---

Word Count: 398

Spoiler

 

Live Current Stats: Pre-Roll

Player: LV 3 - HP:52/60. Stats: 3 DMG, 0 EVA, 1 MIT, 1 ACC. EN - 4

Enemy A: Boar Pup - HP:0/5 , DMG: 3
Enemy B: Boar Pup - HP:0/5 , DMG: 3
Enemy C: Boar Pup - HP:1/5 , DMG: 3

Roll ID# 93695 results: Battle: 10, MOB: 10
Effect: Furrow lands Critical+ Hit on boar. Boar is erased.

Live Current Stats: Post-Roll

Player: LV 3 - HP:52/60. Stats: 3 DMG, 0 EVA, 1 MIT, 1 ACC. EN - 3

Enemy A: Boar Pup - HP:0/5 , DMG: 3
Enemy B: Boar Pup - HP:0/5 , DMG: 3
Enemy C: Boar Pup - HP:0/5 , DMG: 3

 

 

Loot Roll: ID# 93696 results: Loot: 19

Quest Material Received: [3/3] Gathered.

Edited January 8, 2018 by Furrow

[Furrow 0]

                Furrow rested onto his heels and rolled his head back. As his head rested on his neck, he closed his eyes. He inhaled deep through his nostrils and held the air in his lungs. Much like he would hold the smoke from a cigar, Furrow let the tight feeling in his chest calm his thoughts. Then, when he felt the tension rise to the point of discomfort, he let out a long and slow through barely split lips. He lowered his head with the breath, and opened his eyes. The agitation from the battle was gone and he felt his body already recovering. The stress in his arms had reduced to a simple burn. The pain from the hits was reduced to meager discomfort and his feet felt light once again. In real life, he would probably be sweating right now. Here, he just felt hot. There was a similar feel to that of him coming down from an adrenaline high, but he doubted there was any kind of adrenaline in his avatar. It was all the game and its back-coding doing its thing. Which he didn’t mind.

                Honestly, he liked the realism of this world. If there were blood splatters and gore, he wouldn’t have minded that either. It kept him anchored to the fact that he was alive here. The pain he felt, the rush of battle, the scent of the air, and the resistance of cutting into his enemies. It was all real, to him. Even though he knew deep down that it was all some developer’s hard work and all just a bunch of ones and zeroes, it was enough to keep his mind from slipping into oblivion. Here, he could see the sun. There? There, the only thing he would be seeing was himself jumping off the side of the floating castle.

                And in the eyes of the family likely waiting for him; that was an ending he was not allowed to have.

---

Word Count: 328

[Furrow 0]

                With his task complete, the Adventurer checked his gear to make sure everything was intact. He wiggled his meager level one chest plate and tugged on the ends of his clothes, stretching to check for holes. The detail of the game only seemed to go so far, so his clothing didn’t seem damaged. He nodded and then checked the edge of his sword, pulling it free. To the normal eye, it didn’t show anything. But he could see the slight fade in its luster. It didn’t show chips along its edge or any residue of blood that could rust the metal, but Furrow had a feeling it was lower quality now than it was before his fighting. If he was right, then he needed a new weapon sooner rather than later. It was one thing to go into a battle with a dull blade. It was another to go into the battle with a blade he couldn’t use.

                Mentally noting to look for another sword once he finished this quest, Furrow sheathed his sword on his right hip and started the march back to the city. The long walk across the open fields gave him plenty of time to think, relax, and learn.

---

Word Count: 203

[Furrow 0]

                The best thing about being a solo-player at his level was the fact that he could go wherever there was free space with monsters. He didn’t have to worry about where others wanted to train or where a large number of people could get enough EXP to share. He just needed three monsters, a single spawn point, and space. Not only that, but he also didn’t have to worry about anyone else. Not directly, at least. He could fight as hard as he wanted but never needed to worry about his back row being blindsided, or a fellow DPS getting in over their head. All he had to do was focus his mind on the target, line up his attacks, and follow through. If he got in too deep, he could pull out, dodge, or compensate with a secondary strategy. Much like with his job as a Police Officer; handling situations alone could be done here with care and a steady head. As long as he didn’t get too deep into trouble or recognized said trouble before it became an issue, he could work with the situation or get out of it.

                But along with that situational flexibility and lack of one extra thing of stress in combat; Furrow could observe others more easily. As he walked up a hill and crested it, the view of the region he had walked by when coming out this far came into sight. He spotted at least six groups fighting across the field, all engaged with the Boar population. He spotted a good mixture of positions from DPS, to Tank, to Support. Most groups comprised of just the first two, but those with the third compliment were doing very well. In a game of only swords and shields; it was tough to find someone willing to play the back row role. So far, Furrow had come across quite a number of DPS-types and a fair number of Tank-types. The Support-type was scarce. He doubted that changed for the higher levels. Then again; he hadn’t gone anywhere except for the current region. If he came across a bunch of Support-types on the upper floors, he didn’t really worry about being surprised.

---

Word Count: 367

[Furrow 0]

                Standing there just outside of the range of battles, and a good distance from any potential enemies, Furrow watched the other Adventurers fight. He watched the movements of the DPS players especially, taking in their motions and their actions with a keen eye. He dissected each motion and attack, then deposited the move into his brain as he analyzed the fights. Furrow wasn’t a sword fighter, so he was forced to learn through trial and error and visual examples. He’d spent quite a bit of time in these fields during his time here, but before he just swung his sword around until the Boar he was fighting fell over and died. Now, it was more about how he could cause the most damage while taking the least. He’d assumed the role of a solo-DPS Type for the time being, and he would need to focus a lot on damage and mitigation. Watching other players was his best way of learning how to do that.

In the force, he had learned how to disarm knives and how to use them to a basic extent. While he wouldn’t have minded learning more, his training was focused more on firearms and martial arts, which were also limited when it came to actual fighting. His goal as an officer was to subdue the target and disarm them if they had a weapon. He had the skillset for a full-blown brawl if he needed it, but most of that was unnecessary. Most civilians were idiots when it came to anything close to fighting. And those who did know how to fight could always be brought down with pepper spray, a TASER, or forced to comply with standard grappling, something Furrow prided himself in. It was always funny to see those willing to stand up and trade punches suddenly struggle when they were on their backs.

However, you couldn’t exactly subdue a big boar with grappling techniques. Here that was the quickest way to die. Furrow had also come to realize his punches and kicks didn’t do any damage, so he couldn’t use them in order to actually hurt a foe. Now he could use his body to create separation, trip foes, or shove them off balance, but those moves he used sparingly. If the move left him open to a possible attack, he had to be careful when using it. So, the officer had to retrain himself. From the ground up, he needed to learn the proper sword fighting stance, the proper way to hold a sword, and the proper way to use his weapon. What better way to learn than to watch the failures and successes of other people.

---

Word Count: 445

[Furrow 0]

The biggest thing, so far, he had learned was that he wasn’t the usual fighter. Much like with writing, most people wielded their weapons in their right hands and carried their shields on their left (if they had a shield). Furrow was one of the odd-ones; he used his left hand to fight. He took the southpaw stance in boxing and his left-handed preference had carried over into sword fighting. He carried his blade on his right hip rather than his left, and did everything backwards. It made his style slightly unorthodox, and it made it hard to learn from others. Especially since other people seemed to lead with their right hand, while Furrow preferred to keep his blade back slightly. So while he could mimic attacks and seemingly understand new motions; he needed to adapt everything to his own style.

First, he had to adjust the normal swings. Most people took a square stance, with both feet mostly parallel and their left foot slightly back. Their chest would be square, or slightly twisted, and their right sword would be in front of them. This common stance helped most players attack quickly and perform multiple strikes. Light and quick, like jabs, the player could deal decent damage and react to the opponent regardless of where the attack came from.

Furrow didn’t like that. Relying on some boxing training, he followed the low-profile stance. He sat lower, bending his knees more, and twisted his hips in a more pronounced manner while opening his legs more. His torso twisted more as well, with his blade hilt usually held low to his hip and the tip floating up by his right shoulder or breast. This made him a smaller target for his foe, and allowed him to move more fluidly. Rather than having to jump or step, he could easily slide his feet and twist his hips to move into a better position, saving precious energy. The only problem is that his blade would be further back, forcing him to react earlier to an attack. With the ordinary stance, one could guard and strike in a blink. Furrow needed to be one step ahead of his opponent if he wanted to block, and had to maneuver into just the right spot if he wanted to attack. The stance gave him more flexibility, but forced him to be more proactive when it came down to it.

A slightly double-edged sort of deal if he wasn’t careful. But what the stance lacked in protection, he made up with attack versatility and accuracy. He could move quicker, adjust to his opponent, and his blade carried slightly extra bite because of the extra power he could put behind each strike. Accuracy was key, as it helped him with Critical Hits. So far, it was paying off and in the long run he assumed the dividends would payout in his favor. But each time he watched other players fight, he always wondered if he was doing enough.

---

Word Count: 499

[Furrow 0]

Was his stance doing enough to keep him out of trouble? Were his attacks the most effective ones? Was he dealing enough damage with each strike? Was he leaving himself too open with his swings? Did he need to make a change to his stance?

Questions that worried him always tugged at his mind when he watched others fight. He worried about whether or not if his style was actually giving him an advantage, and he worried about his swordplay. Surviving in his world was going to take every ounce of everything Furrow had. From physical to mental, he needed to be on his A-game throughout his stay. Everything mattered from his breathing to his attacks to his management of his mental state. One wrong slip up somewhere, and he would either die or find himself unable to continue. He’d become a victim of this world like the thousands of others who had before him.

So, he studied, and he asked. Did that player’s dodge just waste energy? Did the attack land in the best spot to set up another? Could he do better? How would he modify that strike to fit his own style? Should he adjust his stance, and if he did how would it affect his movement? Was his weapon the correct weapon, or was that player just more skilled than he was? Did that player make that step intentionally, and why? One question after another raced, and he used the full range of observational skills in his arsenal to pick out those fine details he needed. After just twenty minutes of standing around and watching over a dozen other players do their fights, he had already learned two moves and that he was swinging his blade just a hair wrong. In the next fight, he would make the adjustments.

Comfortable with his moment of learning, Furrow stopped chewing on his inner bottom lip and snapped back to life. He started the march back to the Town of Beginnings and checked his inventory again for the requested materials. Confirming that he had gathered the right items once more, Furrow nodded and waved off his menu.

---

Word Count: 358