In the Shadow of Mountains - a litRPG adventure

“Rise! Rise now, men and women of the North Wall! The enemy is at our gates, and the time has come for violence! I have many titles to my name but by days end, my name will be but one amongst a thousand! Glory is not given freely; it is snatched from the jaws of your enemy! All who stand here today, holding the line against our most-hated foe, will be remembered for all eternity as Unbroken! Let the kings and queens cower behind their castle walls while we stand on the field of battle alone. What need have we for scholars and chroniclers to document our final stand? Our defiance will be painted for all to see in the blood of our enemies! Our strength will shake the heavens and the gods themselves shall witness! Hear me now Hasta, we of the first people to walk this earth, our lineage unbroken from the first men. We have planted our feet, and we will not be moved!”

Excerpt from ‘The great Khan’s ballad – last stand of the Hasta’ – unknown author from before the 2nd cleansing

I endured their glares, the hatred palpable and seething from the faces of the wolves below me. Their snarls promised vengeance and a slow death, and their hackles were raised prominently, flaring above the shoulders in a long line down their spines.

It was an impressive sight, but we were in the heart of the hills, and I controlled the terrain. They could spit and slaver and growl all they liked, but they couldn’t climb trees. I returned to the rock pile and selected another heavy weapon, but the wolves backed away now and were fixated on me, ever moving and unwilling to sit still. It was a shame the same trick wouldn’t work twice but I wasn’t particularly surprised.

I put the rock down again and reached for my javelin. Popping it over one shoulder, I walked to the other side of my boulder and sat with my legs dangling over the edge, waiting. Within moments, a couple of the wolves slunk into sight, having circled the boulder to keep me within view.

After I had confirmed I was still dangerous despite being stranded here, they couldn’t afford to let me out of view. No doubt they thought I might slip off into the night while they were distracted. Perhaps they were hoping for it, as they would have no trouble running me down in the gloom, tracking my footfalls through the trees before I could gain enough distance to outlast them.

But now I was in control, and they were dancing to my rhythm. I heard the howling and knew the rest of the pack would be heading back, or at least the larger, more prominent two would. It sounded like a call for help to my ears, and I paused long enough to once again wonder where my confidence in my interpretation was coming from. I marked it as a thought to explore in more detail later, but for now I wanted to pick off another one before the rest arrived. Let them see my work fully before making their decision.

I cannibalised my old cloak pack and wrapped the lengths of vine around my torso to make a holder for the javelin, before climbing onto a nearby tree. It was an old growth forest, so the trees weren’t crowded together too tightly. I had to pick a line from tree to tree, often needing to circle back on myself after finding no suitable nearby branches to leap to. I had marked my position after climbing through the canopy and was confident I could navigate my way back with time under the strong moonlight.

I took my time, being conservative with my jumps and avoiding anything that I was unsure about. Strangely, despite such huge changes in my physical abilities occurring so rapidly, my confidence and awareness of my body and its capabilities was higher than ever. I felt in tune with myself, knowing what I could and couldn’t do.

I made one or two risky moves and managed to stabilise myself before I fell, but it couldn’t stop the smile spreading across my face. I felt like Tarzan, running through the trees and swinging from vine to vine. I didn’t do any actual swinging myself, but the environment felt similar enough, and the occasional view of a wolf padding silently nearby only heightened the thrill.

This was the most comprehensive, high stakes obstacle course I could run, and I was faster than I ever dreamed. I could hang by my fingers for as long as I could hold my breath before I would tire, and my grip was like iron on the branches and trunks I clung to. I felt the now familiar joy surge in my heart as I lost myself to the wilderness, only brought back to reality by a faint ringing in my mind.

You have killed a Tarkenzi Maned-Wolf (level 13). Experience gained.

I was surprised it had taken this long in all honesty. I didn’t get a good look, but I was sure I’d crushed half its chest with the rock and wasn’t expecting it to hold out as long as it did. Perhaps the animals in this world had attributes of their own – they had levels after all.

Either way, I had travelled far enough and couldn’t see my ever-present watcher anywhere. It would no doubt slink into sight soon, and I was keen to add to the dead. I nestled into the crook of a tree, unslinging my javelin and positioning it above my head. I settled in to wait, hoping I hadn’t already been spotted and the wolf tracking me was waiting just out of eyesight. Luckily, it was only a few moments later that the wolf trotted past my tree.

Its head was in the air, waving about on its long creepy neck and snout furiously sniffing for a trace of me. I waited for a few more moments, lining up the shot before I loosed, chopping my arm down and extending my elbow at the last moment to give it extra power. Luckily it only had to travel a short distance, and the thick shaft wasn’t fighting gravity at all.

Shoddy workmanship came into play, with the crooked javelin veering slightly off target and burying itself into the shoulder of the wolf rather than the neck I’d been aiming for. The sharpened wood didn’t get far, bouncing off bone and dislodging itself from the wolf as it pranced back with a startled yelp. Hardly a deadly blow, but it had done damage all the same. The wolf was padding gingerly on its front leg where the javelin had hit and didn’t seem to want to put much weight on it. I wished belatedly for my trusty horn, remembering the vicious battle from my first full day on this world.

I had 10 levels and an entire class on my old self now, and I’d still taken out a similarly levelled Tarkenzi without dying back then. I glanced around, checking for any other pursuers. It was a risk, but if I could kill this one now, not only would I take out another one of the pack permanently, but I could make it to the nearby river I had spied only a few hundred meters from the boulder.

I doubted they could afford to outlast me on food, I could go for weeks after all without food at this point, and I’m sure I could find something worth eating in the canopy if push came to shove. Wilderness Endurance Hunter would surely allow me to find some sort of bug or insect to tide me over. No, water was the main concern. So, risk a swift death now by ambush if there is another watcher hiding out of sight, or a slower death by dehydration?

I didn’t want to die – that was clear from my continued efforts. But I really didn’t want to die slowly and ignominiously on a rock because I was too scared to fight. Decision made, easy as that.

I dropped down a few branches, getting closer to the ground and watching the wolf all the while. It started to growl and limp forwards as I approached the forest floor. Still no sign of any other wolves despite my repeated checks, I decided to gamble it all on my ability to kill this thing before it killed me.

Easing my good leg down to the floor to take my weight, before settling my injured leg behind it, I settled into a crouch, staring intently into yellow eyes that tracked my every move.

We faced off against each other for what felt like hours, measuring each other with desperate intensity. I felt remarkable kinship with this animal in those final moments – both of us knew this could only end with one of our deaths, and both of us were willing to risk it all on the gamble that we would be the victor.

I placed a hand in the dirt to steady my body and dug my feet into the ground for purchase. I watched as the supple muscle bunched on the hind legs of the Tarkenzi, and its shoulder hunched forwards, pressing off against the ground to propel it straight at me. I rose to meet it, charging forwards with all the explosive strength my body could muster.

I activated check-step for the first time and focused on the hind legs of the wolf as I ran, waiting for the tell-tale bunching that would declare it was going for its lunge. My brain was afire with adrenaline, working overtime to log and compute every possible variable and piece of information being picked out by my straining senses.

The wolf leapt forwards and up towards my chest, and I dropped beneath it like my strings were cut, any upwards momentum being cancelled out in an instant. I slid beneath its snapping jaws, catching a leg to the face as it leapt over me, trying to reposition even as it flew through the air. I skidded along the loamy earth, snatched up the discarded javelin and turned to face the creature that was even now barrelling back towards me.

My calf was screaming at me in protest as I braced my legs against the earth and pushed my body up, aiming the improvised spear at the hurtling wolf bearing down on me. A heavy jolt, a violent growl tapering to a yelp, and then the spear was ripped from my grasp as the wolf slid over me. It rolled on the ground and slumped, the thick wooden branch thoroughly lodged in its now sunken chest.

You have killed a Tarkenzi Maned-Wolf (level 14). Experience gained.

Skill ‘Guerrilla Warfare’ has increased in level. Guerrilla Warfare - level 5

I spent a moment just gasping in surprise that I’d survived a fight with a fully grown wolf again, before checking myself for injuries. I had a small dribble of blood running down my neck from a gash on my temple, but it was nothing to be overly concerned with. I quickly reached the corpse and dragged it back to the tree I’d been hiding in before it arrived. With a few heaves and shoves, I managed to get it a few meters off the ground and out of reach. I then scampered off towards the direction of the river.

I returned to the corpse via trees, with only one brief section running on the ground between a few sparsely covered sections of the forest. I didn’t want to risk being found on the ground by more wolves if they were out, and after drinking as much as I possibly could, I was feeling far less reckless than before.

I re-lashed the javelin to my back and set to butchering the corpse as much as practicable while in a tree. I then punched a hole through the centre of the largest cuts of meat, looping the remaining vine through until I had less a holster for my weapon and more a bizarre wobbly kebab. It was enough to let me use both hands and travel back to the safety of my rock though and that was the important part.

I ignored the wolves milling about below as I set to roasting thin strips of meat over my pebble, in a frustratingly slow way of cooking that I would just have to get used to until I dealt with the pack. 2 down, a dozen left. I wasn’t sure I could rely on getting them on their own from now on, but I had brought myself a couple of days with dehydration now pushed back, and the meat would keep my energy up as well. All in all, a successful 2nd attempt.

My experimentation with Check-Step had also gone well, allowing me to outmanoeuvre a likely much more agile animal and I suspected the skill would only become more powerful as my attributes increased. Sleep then, and come the dawn, I would begin my campaign in earnest.

The next morning, the thwack of my stone axe chipping away at wood was ringing through the clearing. I’d made a dozen small javelins before midday, and begun to move about, exploring the treetops and scouting for promising options. I wasn’t entirely sure exactly what I was looking for, instead trusting that my skills would alert me to anything of great potential.

I moved around, observing the pack and how they followed in my wake. I’d awoken to the full group sharing a meal together in full view of my rock, but far enough back that I couldn’t repeat the rock throwing trick. I was tempted to launch a few javelins, but I’d only had the one at the time, and I wasn’t yet sure if I wanted them to know my range.

I’d half hoped they would be gone when I awoke, deciding that the price for my blood was too high. Alas, dawn had broken to the sounds of their grisly feast, and I’d had to accept we would be doing things the hard way. So be it.

I was now followed by an escort of at least two wolves constantly, and they approached more cautiously when they lost track of me, for however brief those moments were. Their eyesight was obviously good enough to pick me out from the trees, and with at least two of them on me at all times, I had no opportunity to repeat yesterday’s trick.

I thought of trying to burn them out but no matter how I tried to game it out, I always ended up burning along with them. Not to mention the damp moss covering much of the forest this close to the river would make it almost impossible to start a fire in time.

I hunted through the forest, searching from the treetops for another boar or bear den, something large enough to distract or possibly kill a few of the wolves. Nothing stood out, and I didn’t have the freedom to explore miles of woodland or open field at a time, confined as I currently was to a slow pace with my exploring constrained by where the old trees met.

The sun was high in the sky when I finally spotted an opportunity and without thinking, I took a leap of faith. I had unwittingly startled a small deer that was rooting around the undergrowth, and as it shot away in its bounding stride, one of the wolves darted after it. Without time to consider the danger, I fell from the tree with my javelin out and clutched in a two-handed reverse grip, all my weight baring down on the slight wolf below me.

It crumpled as I slammed into its back, the javelin puncturing straight through and emerging from between its ribs.

You have killed a Tarkenzi Maned-Wolf (level 16). Experience gained.

I rolled to my feet and looked about frantically for the remaining one. Finding no sign of it, I returned to the corpse, pulled the javelin out and climbed onto a tree opposite the corpse-turned-bait. I clambered up a few meters and shimmied out along a branch above and waited.

A few minutes later a wolf came trotting into view, the deer dangling limply from its mouth. It caught sight of the corpse and moved to investigate before prancing back in weariness at the last second. That slight hesitation meant it caught only a glancing blow from my javelin, but the weight of my falling body still knocked it to the ground. A short, brutal fight ensued before the ringing in my head and arterial blood covering my face confirmed the grisly work was over.

You have killed a Tarkenzi Maned-Wolf (level 17). Experience gained.

The sun sunk below the horizon, and while light fled from the forest, my work continued.

You have killed a Tarkenzi Maned-Wolf (level 17). Experience gained.

Skill ‘Guerrilla Warfare’ has increased in level. Guerrilla Warfare - level 6

You have killed a Tarkenzi Maned-Wolf (level 15). Experience gained.

You have killed a Tarkenzi Maned-Wolf (level 18). Experience gained.

You have reached level 16. Attribute points available for allocation.

You have killed a Tarkenzi Maned-Wolf (level 17). Experience gained.

You have reached level 17. Attribute points available for allocation.

I settled onto the hard surface of my boulder, hardly feeling the ridges and grooves in the stone below me. My skin felt painted on, every movement shifting the coating of drying blood and pulling at the litany of small wounds covering my body. Despite that, my breathing was even.

My eyes drifted closed and a swift application of Heart of the Hills allowed me to drown out the feeling of triumph at my survival for a brief moment, long enough for me to make a decision about how to spend my remaining attributes. I’d already pushed two more into endurance upon my first level, to offset the blood loss from my myriad scratches, grazes and a single grazing bite wound. I decided to allocate two to each attribute to keep a balance, and the rush lit my veins on fire, every nerve ending rejoicing in ecstasy at the power coursing through me.

A single day, and I’d culled the pack beyond recovery. I couldn’t deny the fierce pride at my ability to fight back, to make them pay for trying to make me prey. Only four remained of the former pack, and I knew in my bones that tomorrow would see the end of this feud.

Ancestry: Human (unevolved)

Level: 17

Class: Blood of the Hills

Titles: God-touched

Attribute allocation:

Strength: 14

Agility: 12

Endurance: 15

Perception: 12

Cognition: 12

Available attributes: 0

Current skills:

Guerrilla Warfare: Level 6. Passive.

Wilderness Endurance Hunter: Level 4. Passive.

Cloven-Hooved: Level 4. Passive.

Heart of the Hills: Level 2. Active.

Check Step: Level 1. Active.

Hill-Folk: Level 1. Active.

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