Let me tell you about Takru Twistknight.
My axegun-slinging avatar recently recruited an aging human lasher. Takru Twistknight was sixty years old and married to Bok Apexwatches for thirty years of his life. They never had children, but Takru had a niece who was killed by a titan, which was in turned killed by her father. I wasn't sure why he'd want to leave his wife behind, but I took him on anyway.
I can't say why, I usually like working alone. I consider bogeymen little more than replenishable live targets and can handle most anything else on my own. I wouldn't regret my decision.
Takru didn't have much skill, nothing more than novice when I found him, but he was well equipped with a bronze whip, iron breastplate and helm. We made a good team, I'd pick off targets from range and he'd make sure nothing got close, finishing off whatever my high-powered firearm didn't kill outright. Surprised me, he was a decent combatant despite his advanced age and apparent lack of skill. He could hold his own with perfectly healthy opponents and actually didn't need my help that much. Had a bit of a mean streak, though, took his time finishing off targets if he could.
I grew a bit attached to the guy. He was a bigger help than I imagined, and I started taking care of him. When he got hurt, I body-swapped into him to apply my idea of first aid. I improved his equipment and even let him take credit for a few quests in the same way.
We made our way north from the southern hamlet Takru called home, righting wrongs, slaying beasts, and all that jazz. We had our scrapes and a few close calls. I thought I was going to lose him when we raided a bandit camp and he got surrounded. He flew into a rage and killed three of the bandits before I could join him. I thought I was going to die when we confronted an iron dwarf, a dwarf-sized iron colossus that moves like greased lightning, but he saved me by bashing the construct's head off with an iron shield.
I parted ways with Takru Twistknight in the town of Noblecakes. I should have seen it coming. On the way there, we passed through areas that should have been hamlets but were instead verdant forests. What hamlets we did find were desolate ruins, long since reclaimed by the growing woods. When we arrived at the town, I noticed something but failed to realize the danger until it was too late. The town was inhabited by elves of the Unswerving Gorge, and they attacked my companion on sight without provocation. I defend my companion, becoming an enemy of their nation in the process, killing many elves. Not enough. He takes a kakapo arrow to the lower leg, and a larch spear embedded in his shield arm, but he keeps fighting while I make my way to his side. By the time I get to him, he's pale from blood loss, but we manage to clear out most of the elf peasants. Working together, we whittle them down to two, and it looks as if my friend will survive. He takes one last cut to the other leg before we finish the elves off.
He bleeds again, and there's nothing I can do, no time. I begin a conversation with him, see if there's anything I missed. He reminds me of his wife, the niece he lost, and lists his kills for me. He has no quests for me to do. I end the conversation, take three steps, and he bleeds to death. I gather up his corpse and every one of belongings, and begin a long trek south.
It's slow going with the heavy load, but I make my way back to the hamlet I recruited this man from less than a year ago. I find his wife and hand over her husband's remains and worldly possessions. With this final act of respect finished, I look to the north and begin my journey anew.
I have unfinished business with the elves.
His name was Takru Twistknight, and he was my first companion.
I learned from that simple lasher that the creatures inhabiting the worlds we play in can be more amazing than the adventurers we create to explore them. The adventurers can do incredible things, but that's what they're meant to do and even the greatest adventurer feats are almost always just par for the course. It is when a common creature goes beyond their parameters and secures a place in history and our hearts that we find something of mention. Even if they need a little help getting there.
But every world, every god damn time, the elves deny so many that chance to define themselves. They wrench the role of antagonist form the goblins' hands to make war on the mortal races in the name of nature, and they just don't stop until they run out of things to kill. So many dead, so many killed, the blood of too many creatures to count is on elven hands because of their damn trees.
I'm going to kill them. I'm going to kill them all. The Unswerving Gorge is just one of three elven civilizations on this world, and they've all performed the same unforgivable acts. I've let the elves run rampant through too many worlds, and now, it's personal. The Second Great Tree Jihad ends by my hand. This one and all to follow.
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Topic: What's going on in your adventure? (Read 2137294 times)