Path of Dragons

With a wet squelch, Thor yanked a monstrous leach from his side, then crushed it in his grip. It was both satisfying and grotesque, the way the thing’s insides – and the blood it had sucked from him – oozed between his fingers. He tossed the pest aside, where its remains were immediately set upon by the biting fish that were so prevalent within the mire. How anything managed to survive the swamp was a mystery.

Only a couple of days after he’d entered the swamp, he’d come upon a helpful alchemist. Well, helpful after he realized that Thor wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Regardless, the thin, bearded man with the curious accent had provided him with potions meant to cure him of the myriad ailments that came from trekking through the marsh, and he’d even relayed information that had pointed Thor in the direction of his intended prey.

Of course, that meant trudging for long miles to the center of the swamp. Each step was a battle, and when he’d reached the deepest parts of the mire, he’d found nothing but more disease, pain, and battle. But no Druid. Only when he’d resorted to using Ancestral Hunt did he come to realize that the alchemist had purposefully led him astray. The tendril of ethera pointed in the opposite direction, which meant that he had a long way yet to go.

Fortunately, the alchemist’s potions worked to rid Thor of the worst of the swamp’s ailments, though the side effects included a torturously twisted gut and loose bowels. So, when he finally set foot on dry ground, he did so with more than a little relief. Since the world had transformed, Thor had been in all sorts of deadly environments, but none had been nearly as frustrating as the swamp. That was the biggest reason he hadn’t gone back to teach the alchemist a lesson. The mere notion of trudging back the way he’d come twisted his stomach into knots, and he hadn’t had to think about it long before leaving the swamp behind.

Perhaps the swamp wasn’t as dangerous as some areas he’d visited. He never felt on the verge of death. But every step was exhausting in a way Thor had never experienced. He was glad to leave it behind.

He was even happier to find a stream where he could clean himself. As he washed the muck of weeks’ worth of travel – and everything else he’d endured at the end of that insidious potion – away, Thor found a host of smaller leeches, plenty of biting insects, and even a snake that had wrapped around his ankle. He executed them all with ruthless prejudice, and at last, he was rid of the swamp.

One of the other issues he’d faced was that, in the swamp, there was nowhere to rest. As a result, he’d been awake for more than a week. So, the moment he found a bit of dry, protected ground, he curled up and slept for what felt like an eternity. When he finally woke more than twenty-four hours later, he felt even groggier than before.

More, he was stiff to the point of barely being able to move.

Finally, his brow was wet with sweat, and the accompanying chills that wracked his body told Thor that he was suffering from a fever. So, he downed the last of the potion provided by the alchemist and fell asleep.

For three days, he endured the sickness. Days and nights blurred together, and for a while, he was certain he was going to die. Yet, finally, on the fourth morning, the fever broke. By that point, he felt like a shadow of his former self, and it took a further day before he felt up to trekking back to the stream and, once again, washing the filth from his body.

That helped.

A little. But with the breaking fever came lucidity, and he couldn’t help but wonder how the Druid had managed to cross the swamp. Elijah Hart was below him on the power rankings, so he should have been markedly weaker. It didn’t make sense that he could go somewhere Thor could not.

Yet, he had.

The only solace Thor could muster in his heart was that there was a good chance that Elijah Hart had suffered just as much as he. And now, at last, he was free to continue his hunt.

So, after bathing, Thor found a different area in which to rest, and a couple of days later, he finally set off across the landscape. The ground was still spongy in places, and he had to watch out for bogs, but he made his way much more quickly than he’d traveled through the swamp. And eventually, he fully left the mire behind.

Ancestral Hunt had already come off cooldown, but he didn’t use it yet. Instead, he followed the landscape in what felt like a natural direction. Surely, if the Druid had come through the area, he wouldn’t have veered off the easy path. So it went for quite a few days, and gradually, the terrain transformed into a forested plain.

As he traveled, Thor slowly recovered. He killed everything he saw, and even managed to stumble upon a rift, which he conquered. Along the way, he gained levels, passing the threshold into level seventy-four. For all that it frustrated him, the constant war with nature he’d experienced in the swamp had done wonders for Thor’s progression.

But each time he gained a level, one thing became absolutely certain – if he was going to continue to progress, he would need to find stronger prey. The local wildlife was periodically powerful. Every now and then, he’d stumble upon a stronger-than-normal monster. Yet, he knew that if he wanted to continue at his pace, he would need to enter towers and rifts.

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Perhaps, he would even visit one of the embattled areas like the Frozen Wastes. He’d even heard of a region in what was formerly China that had become mired in death and monsters.

Or he could simply hunt powerful people.

He’d done so before, and the benefits were always astounding. Not only would he gain experience commensurate with their levels, but he’d also get to take whatever treasures they had in their possession. Certainly, it wasn’t the traditionally moral thing to do, but in his experience, morality didn’t truly exist. It was all relative. One man’s atrocity was another man’s necessity. So, he didn’t concern himself with such inconsequential things.

Eventually, Thor reached a settlement composed of a huge, white house surrounded by fields of what looked like soybeans, and a nearby collection of quaint buildings. Thor had seen many such settlements before, though most had been abandoned, their former inhabitants either killed by the encroaching wildlife or scattered to the wind.

It was further evidence that most of humanity was too weak to survive the new world. Still, he wasn’t so disconnected from his roots that he couldn’t appreciate a little civilization. Especially because it would give him an opportunity to resupply as well as to sleep in an actual bed, for once.

Thor prided himself on his ability to survive and even thrive in the harsh wilderness. Yet, he did enjoy the amenities of civilization whenever they were available. Especially after the ordeal he’d endured in the swamp. So, it was with some degree of relief that he trekked toward the village.

However, when he finally reached the collection of buildings, he was confronted by a tall man, who said, “Howdy, stranger. What can we do for ya?”

The fellow wore a white cowboy hat and mirrored sunglasses, but the first thing Thor noticed was a leather holster at his hip. In the old world, it might’ve held a pistol, but now, it played host to a twisted metal rod that Thor recognized as a wand.

He shifted slightly, putting his weight on his back food. He was ready to spring into motion at the slightest provocation. His experience with the merchant had reminded him that, even if he was more powerful than his opponent, that didn’t mean they weren’t dangerous. For all he knew, the man in the mirrored sunglasses had a supremely deadly skill that he could only use once a year.

If that was the case, Thor would be in trouble.

That was the thing he’d let himself forget. The world was full of innumerable classes, some of which were incredibly powerful in very specific situations. Certainly, levels and cultivation could overcome that, but the fact remained that if he wanted to survive, he needed to be wary of putting himself in disadvantageous circumstances.

So, instead of bulling into the town as he had in the past, he said, “I need a place to rest and resupply. I also require information.”

“Don’t mind helpin’ with the first two. For a price, of course. With the last, that depends on what sort of information you’ll be wantin’,” the man said, shifting a bit so as to prevent a slimmer profile. He looked like a gunfighter from a western, and Thor very nearly challenged the man, then and there.

But he used Hunter’s Eye instead:

Name: Rayland Timmons Archetype: Sorcerer Level: 47

By Thor’s count, the man’s level put him just outside the top one-hundred. But in reality, he was only ten levels from cracking the top ten. Most of the power ladder was bunched between levels fifty and sixty, so just because the man wasn’t one of the world’s most powerful people, that didn’t mean he was a weakling.

And Thor had seen the dangers of fighting people on their own turf. Likely, the town had a few other combatants around who could make his life difficult. So, despite the fact that he had almost thirty levels on Rayland Timmons, Thor chose a non-violent path.

Besides, he preferred attacking his prey from the shadows. He could fight in a straight battle, but that was a good way to get killed.

“I’m looking for a Druid,” Thor stated. “Elijah Hart. I believe he passed through this town recently.”

The man took off his hat, then wiped his sleeve across his forehead. Then, he glanced up at the sun before saying, “Don’t ring any bells. We get a lotta travelers comin’ through here, though. Feel free to ask around. But I’ll tell you this once. You cause trouble, and you better be ready to take on everybody here. Big boy like you, with all them levels – you can probably put up a good fight. But you won’t win. I can promise you that.”

“Is that a challenge?” Thor asked, tightening his grip on the spear in his hand. He refused to be talked down to by someone so much weaker than him.

“Just a promise. Law and order, son. That’s the name of the game. Without that, we’re no better’n beasts.”

Thor wanted to show the man what a beast he could be, though his previous caution was warranted. So, he marshaled his self-control and said, “I agree. I will cause no trouble unless someone forces me to do so.”

“Fair ‘nuff. In that case, you probably want to stay at the Draymond House. Feel free to wander, but keep my promise in mind,” Rayland Timmons said.

After that, Thor moved on. However, as he did so, he felt the man’s eyes following his every move. More than that, it felt like wherever he went inside the town – whose name he’d never sought – other people watched him. Clearly, they knew what it meant to host powerful strangers.

So, he only stayed in the town for one night, though even that was refreshing. At the same time, he had asked around until he found a few disgruntled men in the local saloon. They told him about a curious monument in the forest, so Thor considered that the next stop.

Still, when the next morning saw him leaving the town behind, he considered turning back around and laying waste to everything he saw. They had insulted him with their suspicions, and as such, he thought they deserved to be taught a permanent lesson. Yet, the memory of his encounter with the merchant brought him up short.

That feeling of weakness he’d experienced in the man’s shop still clung to his mind, pushing him toward caution.

So, with no small degree of displeasure constricting his thoughts, Thor set off back into the wilderness. As he did so, he couldn’t help but hope that he’d finally tracked his prey. Originally, he had nothing against the Druid. However, with every passing day and with each hardship he’d endured, he’d grown to hate the man.

Killing him, he reasoned, would go a long way toward rectifying those feelings.

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