Book One: Leap - Chapter Seventy: Lone Wolf
A sense of satisfaction goes through me as I slip the braided cord loop into the string groove on the bow’s upper limb. It’s taken all my strength to bend the bow enough to even do that, but I’d rather that the bow’s a bit too difficult to draw than the reverse: I’m likely to be increasing my Strength soon, so if it’s easy for me to draw now, I’ll risk breaking it when I’ve got more points in Strength.
It’s been interesting to notice the differences my stats make. It’s not like I’ve been testing them, exactly. I’m not a fan of the idea of letting myself get hurt in order to test my new durability or ability to heal, and I’m not just going to keep Dominating random creatures to test my Willpower when it increases – I sometimes feel guilty enough over the two creatures I’ve Bound to me, even though they both seem OK with it.
Admittedly, I haven’t been spending much time with Spike, but he appears to be calmly content, going and foraging in the morning before ‘guarding’ the growing samova bean plants during the afternoon and night. By that, basically it means he’s been napping nearby and taking life pretty easy, but since having an adult raptorcat kind of obviates the need for him to actually guard the thing, and I don’t have any other specific task for him in mind, I’m fine with him just enjoying life.
After Kalanthia’s suggestion to take him out with me, I took him with me when I looked for wood suitable for a bow. That outing was pretty peaceful, so I’m still unable to decide whether taking him into combat is a good or bad thing. Maybe I should try asking him? He’s not nearly as aware as Bastet, but he’s been able to establish preference in the past… But that’s a thought for later.
So yeah, no random Dominates. I can live with myself if I use that Skill for a good reason – as with Bastet – but just randomly ‘capturing’ other creatures for no other reason than going on a power-trip would make my conscience uncomfortable. That said, I’m slowly realising something which should have been obvious from the beginning, but which is only now becoming clear to me now. Perhaps I needed to increase my Intelligence or Wisdom to come to the realisation; perhaps I just needed time to take in my new reality.
The fact is that my Class revolves around creating Bonds with creatures – and then using them. I recognised that Tame and Dominate were clearly core Skills by the fact that they were the first ones I started with, but for some reason, I didn’t really internalise it. I’ve been considering Dominating a number of creatures, but usually at the wrong moments – or the wrong creatures.
I can’t Dominate every creature I come across, even if I wanted to: even if it doesn’t say there’s a limit to the number of Bonds I can have, I sense that I’d be incapable of managing more than a handful of them. At least, Bonds like with Bastet. But I don’t want to go around Dominating a load of porcupigs – I can’t see the utility in that. But beyond the utility, I can’t justify it to myself, either.
No, I need to be judicious with my use of Dominate, for sure, but I also can’t be afraid to use it either. More than just waiting for a lucky encounter to just fall into my lap, I need to engineer them. Encountering Bastet at that moment was truly a fortuitous moment – she was too injured to pose a danger to me, but not so much that she was too weak for the Battle of Wills. And she has turned out to be a perfect companion. Except for the fact that she’s also the principal carer of a trio of cubs, but even there I’m hopefully building a bond which will allow them to become companions in their turn. Plus, they’re super-cute and genuinely bring a light to my life. Except when they’re undoing all my hard work, that is.
But I can’t rely on just happening across my perfect Bound at an ideal moment: I need to plan. I’ve got all this knowledge about traps – can’t I identify a creature which would be perfect to add to my team and then engineer a situation where I can invoke Dominate without worrying about the consequences if I fail. I remember thinking something about this right at the beginning – why did I never follow through?
Because I moved onto other things, I realise. And they were important to do, but soon I’ll be in a position where my basic needs are met; I’ll be able to concentrate on building the right team of creatures, helping both me and them to become stronger. And that latter, I can’t do if I constantly go out on my own, for whatever reason I’ve justified to myself. I've been trying to be a lone wolf, when everyone knows that wolves are stronger as a pack. Going out by myself puts me at risk, but also prevents my companion from growing – I checked with Bastet yesterday and after a bit of back and forth, I managed to get from her that she grows in strength by killing, or helping me kill, just as I do. And if she does that, then surely Spike does as well? Kalanthia’s right – who knows what Spike could become if he grows enough?
I reckon that my increases in Wisdom are helping me come to these conclusions. All I can say is that slowly I’m feeling more connected to the world around me. It’s contributing to my unease about randomly Dominating animals, but also reminds me that I cannot pretend that I am an island – detached and removed from everything around. It’s also helping me realise that I’ve been an idiot in far too many ways for far too long. I’m a truly lucky bastard that I haven’t been killed by my mistakes. Perhaps that’s Wisdom – looking back on your past actions and wanting to cover your eyes in shame.
The effects of other stats are more clearly observed than such creeping realisations. My higher Strength helps me in some obvious ways – carrying rocks, breaking branches, as some examples. It did take a bit of adjusting, though, to moderate it in more delicate tasks, like when knapping my arrowheads. I ruined a good few rocks before I regained the right force-control. Actually, after spending some time last night musing on the idea, I concluded that this is why I only really started making progress once I gained a point in Dexterity – I needed the fine motor control to deal with my increased gross motor strength.
On the upside, considering all these different ideas and making connections between them was apparently exactly what I needed to nudge my Intelligence just enough to offer me another point in that stat. With at least ten in each stat now, I’m feeling pretty good about my status screen, and ready to level up – when I’ve collected enough Energy, that is.
Which means hunting. And what great timing – having now braced my bow by connecting its two limb tips with a string, I’m now ready to face my first foe equipped with a proper ranged weapon. Not to mention the couple of flint-tipped spears now taking up a single slot in my Inventory. In addition, I’ve also been able to create crude chest and back plates with the pieces of chitin and sinew cord. They’re a little troublesome to get on and off, but I’m sure the effort will be worth the protection. Going forward, I might not gain Constitution points so quickly, but it will be worth it to avoid the pain of injuries. I’m actually wearing them now: I need to get used to moving with them since they do restrict my movements a little.
But my new armour isn’t half as exciting as my new weapons, particularly my new ranged weapon: bows and arrows are cool. I can’t help an excited grin coming to my face. It’s a little surreal that I’ve made a bow and arrow! A proper one, that is, since I’d made so many as a boy. Not real ones, of course. Just sticks with string attached, shooting other sticks with such little accuracy that everything around my target was in more danger than the target itself. Now, I’ve made a serious weapon that can kill...and am going to set out to kill with it. The thought sobers me and my grin slips significantly.
But is it any different from before? I have to go hunting. I need to eat, Bastet needs to eat, the cubs need to eat. If I start pulling in too many corpses for the five of us, I’ll give them to Kalanthia too. Then she won’t have to go out hunting herself. It’s not like I’m just killing for the sake of killing and then leaving the bodies to poison the local environment. Not like people used to do in the Wild West with bison, or in Africa when they went on safaris just to kill everything they saw for trophies. It’s not the same thing. Is it?
To distract myself from my troubled thoughts, I return my attention to my bow, trying to look over it with a critical eye to try to spot any flaws. Dangerous ones, at least – ones that might lead to the bow snapping mid-fight. There are plenty of aesthetic flaws: I might have made bows many times in my memories, but this is my first time in real life.
For this first bow, I’ve just made a very simple design: a single piece of wood with portions cut out to form the limbs and the handhold. I’ve even left a strip of bark on the outside face to try to maximise flexibility and protection from the elements there. I did shape it a bit with both knife and rubbing stone, so it’s reasonably comfortable to hold, and I did make sure the tips were a bit thicker than parts of the arms as I don’t want them to snap off immediately. I’ve also rubbed both wood and sinew string with animal fat, wanting them to be more supple and water-resistant. I’ll continue doing that at intermittent intervals until they don’t absorb any more.
It’s not the most powerful bow design, but I don’t have either the time or resources to make a layered bow. This’ll do, especially with half-decent arrows that keep as much momentum as possible. I’ll still probably have to get relatively close to my target to maximise my impact, though. Still, given that the only place I’ve ever actually shot an arrow is in my memories – and my dreams – being closer to my target probably isn’t a bad thing anyway.
As for the arrows, I’m glad that I didn’t try to make them as soon as I arrived in this world: even starting with Dexterity that was more than double my arriving value, it was difficult. In fact, I only really started to make progress with making the arrowheads and attaching them to the arrows with pitch and sinew when my Dexterity reached triple my starting value. It sure makes a difference – to my sanity if nothing else! If I’d tried the whole thing with a three in Dexterity, I’d have probably given up in frustration. Now, I have a feeling that I’d never be hit by another dodge-ball, if I ever got the chance to play it again.
Lifting the bow, I first experiment with standing in the positions my memories tell me are possible ones for correct shooting. I set my feet shoulder-width apart with my left foot ahead and my right foot behind, pointing slightly outwards. I shuffle a bit, testing whether I feel more comfortable with my feet closer together and hips facing the target, or my feet further apart and my hips facing side-on. In the end, I settle on a position somewhere between the two, a position in which I feel grounded, and as though I’m braced enough with my slightly bent knees to cope with the bow’s draw. I can already tell that I’m going to have to keep practising this until it becomes natural and automatic.
Next, I try to draw the bow, without an arrow at this point. The string is strong and cuts into my fingers a bit. I’ll need to build up calluses quickly, I note absently. It’s a very strong draw and I struggle to pull the string to halfway along my body, let alone to full-draw. Still, that’ll change quickly, so I’m not worried.
Practising that a little, I draw the string and then release the tension slowly; draw, then release; draw, then release. With the unusual exercise, my muscles soon start feeling warm and sweat starts beading on my forehead. By the time I think I should probably take a break, my muscles are trembling and my hands are aching. On the final time, I accidentally release the string when it’s drawn instead of controlling the release of tension.
The bow-string moves faster than I can see, the bow springing back into its position of least tension. It takes a moment before the pain hits, but when it does, I let out a small cry.
“Ow, bloody hell, that hurts,” I gripe, clutching at the inside of my left forearm. Removing my hand, I see a neat line cut into the skin, blood already welling to the surface. Cursing again, I quickly cast a Lay-on-hands and the surface wound closes. Funny, I had my arm broken a couple of days ago, and I’ve had bites and swipes deep enough to cut into my organs, yet this slight surface wound is what makes me scream?
All I can guess is that it’s because it was so unexpected: when I’m in a fight, I expect to be hurt, I’m bracing for it. I really didn’t anticipate being hurt now. Plus, the adrenaline in a fight significantly dulls the pain. Then, thanks to the Lay-on-hands I tend to keep going through a fight, by the time the adrenaline rush fades, I’m usually well on the way to being healed, if not healed completely. I didn’t have that here.
Anyway, note to self: create an armguard before going out hunting with my bow this afternoon. I look up and see Spike trundling towards the forest. Is he going to forage now? It would be a good opportunity to go together, if that’s the case. Calling to him, he pauses and looks back at me.