Bloody Dawn Chapter Six: Green Waves

Bloody Dawn Chapter Six: Green Waves

Tom rode into the Proving Grounds. Though the trees had been growing smaller for some time, and thinning too, the underbrush becoming sparser, and the typical wildlife less frequent, the sudden change between the Deep and the Grounds was jarring for him.

Abruptly, the trees gave way to grass. Chest height or higher, and a light, happy green, it swayed before them in endless green waves. As Darius had told them, a persistent wind announced itself as they moved into the open. Silvery light rippled and reflected from the lush stalks as the wind swept through the plains.

The group became silent as they moved into the open and away from the Deep. Tom cast a longing look over his shoulder. He felt horribly exposed.

He had become used to the Deep. Indeed, now that he had left it, he realised it felt like home. A thousand factors he had taken for granted had now been taken away.Updated from novelb(i)n.c(o)m

The light, made murky and green by the dense tree cover, occasionally pierced by startlingly golden beams. The sightlines, tangled and obscured by branches and brush. The close feel of the air, and the thousand thousand scents. The myriad sounds of flora and fauna competing with each other, and the environment, in a struggle for survival.

The Deep felt old; ancient. It was a wizened grandfather: unmoving, covetous, ornery, but also be surprisingly gentle and generous to his favourites for completely inscrutable reasons.

The Proving Grounds were more unsettling to Tom than he had anticipated. The sun was punishing without an intervening canopy to mollify some of the heat. The grass, tousled about so, cast an unending susurrus. Every time the wind dropped, crickets, or some other insects, began chirping. There was no reprieve from the monotonous two-tone song of the Proving Grounds.

The grass continued unabated for as far as the eye could see. From his vantage atop Sesame, he could see for miles and miles around. In the distance, to the south-west, a single, scraggly tree broke the otherwise uninterrupted horizon. The only other relief from the unchanging panorama was the shiver and twist of the grass as it danced with the wind.

Toms initial impression was that the Proving Grounds felt neither old nor young. They felt not new, but clean, perhaps, swept as they were by the constant wind. The unrelieved vista, inescapable sun, and unrelenting noise were grating, but they did not have the same ominous, foreboding feel as the Deep.

The Deep Green had the feeling of walking home late at night through a bad neighbourhood. The Proving Grounds felt like walking into a new school or church and finding everyone ignoring you. It was apathetic. It felt indifferent. Vast, but also free in a sense.

Tom tried his best to shake off the feeling. He was in a completely new place, it was only natural it would feel different. He could not allow himself to become overwhelmed by it, or, like he had so often while first in the Deep, engrossed in thought about the environment.

There was danger here. He needed to remain alert.

The trade road now was narrow, the grass on either side encroaching upon its boundaries, sometimes springing from cracks in the hard packed earth. Though it had been beaten flat, compressed by generations of travellers, nature was unrelenting.

Toms head was on a swivel. With the wind providing constant background noise, he had no audible cues to direct his attention. He noticed the others suffering from the same problem: looking all around, some slowly, some jerkily, some turning full about in their saddles, each trying their best to be alert to any potential dangers.

Only Darius seemed relatively unconcerned. The man sat atop the small cliff shelf on his turtles back with an easy manner, one foot kicking idly. Occasionally, he would cock his head this way or that, seemingly listening for something that no one else could hear.

The surface of the shield hissed, making a bizarre metallic sound, like a wire fence strung with beads rattling. The shield gave off a pulse of white behind it, and Tom felt the pain in his shoulder and chest lessen slightly.

Darius stood next to his familiar, one hand thrown out towards them. Granny, the craggy tortoise, had turned about to face the threat, her stubby legs sunk slightly into the road. A shiver passed through the air around her shell, making it seem to vibrate.

All of this passed in a moment. Toms wisp arrived in front of his face. He reached into his inventory space, and pulled free one of many small, purple squares directly into his mouth.

The object looked like a colourful square of taffy, but when it hit his palate, it began to dissolve quickly and immediately. The overwhelming taste of plums filled his mouth. Within moments, Toms limbs began to respond properly. The pain in his shoulder and chest lessened even further. He rolled onto his front, and brought himself to his feet. By the time he stood, he was steady.

He sent a quick prayer to Goddess that he had caught up with Harvey Bubbles, the alchemist, before he left Wayrest. He had ended up spending most of a day with him.

Ever since Tom had met him the first time, it had become increasingly obvious that Sweet Suffering was one of his strongest skills, probably even the strongest. But it had several downsides.

For one, it was unreliable in what effects it could produce. Sometimes, what the system decided was a buff or debuff or a poison could be extremely arbitrary. Sometimes, it would not activate, even when he took something most would consider a poison. Other times, like now, it did activate, but the buff it gave was detrimental.

Tom had been taking extensive notes about the skill, and how it interacted with the various situations he had found himself in in the Deep, and the potions and poisons Bubbles had given him. The strange, excitable little man had been absolutely exuberant. And together, they had worked out some new tricks.

He had made the mistake of thinking of Sweet Suffering as a catch-all. It was not. If he relied on it too heavily, it could pull the rug out from under him at a critical time. Luckily, Harvey had an idea.

Harvey had created a batch of candy-like creations, designed to clear both any active buffs and debuffs when consumed. They were designed to activate almost instantaneously.

They were Goddess-sent. The candies allowed for him to reset Sweet Suffering at will, and also contained a small damage over time effect as well. The skill would pick it up and turn it into healing now, too. A small, but welcome, side effect.

Tom debated dipping into the rest of his stock to activate more buffs, but in short order, the fight was over. Eli drew a greatsword from a sheath on his back and swept it forwards. All the grass in a wide arc toppled and fell. Better, a high, warbling shriek sounded as well.

The falling grass revealed a huge scorpion. Its chitinous shell was scored where it had been hit by the same Blade skill of Elis that had reaped the grass. It realised it had lost the element of surprise, and was now outnumbered and revealed, and was struggling to escape.

It could not. Granny had manipulated the earth below it to trap its legs. Every time it pulled one free, the tortoise snared another. Rosa struck the trapped creature in the head with a lance of fire. Darius pounced forward, and his sword struck the chitin where she had blackened it. The length of steel slid smoothly through the weakened carapace. The monster shrieked and died.

The scorpion was enormous. It was far bigger than any insect Tom had seen, and he had seen some massive ones in the Deep. Its tail was so long that it looked ungainly, impractical, if one had not seen it in action. Large, sharp claws sat on the end of two stubby little arms. Its insectile eyes had been ruined by Rosas fire.

The group sat around, relieved, once it was clear that the scorpion was the only attacker. They needed a moment to collect themselves. Darius allowed them it, but then pressured them to move on. They needed to move on before any monsters drawn by the sounds of fighting could set their own ambushes. There would be enough of those on their journey without tempting fate.