In the Shadow of Mountains - a litRPG adventure

‘Chase the horizon, and pray it ever changes’ – Traveler

“We’ll be heading west, towards the Panyera. It’s a journey I expect to take upwards of a month at least, and most of it will be spent trekking through wilderness. There are a few permanent towns on the way, and we should hit the first one in about two weeks.”

We were gathered around a small table in Jorge’s room, where he had unfurled a blank piece of waxy canvas. A few moments later, ink scrawled its way along the surface, filling in details until a map of the Wandering States was visible. I was appropriately amazed by the minor miracle I was witnessing, but I supposed the others must have been used to magic by this point as they didn’t remark on it at all.

“No rush on this, as we can’t act till the end of Sabayen anyway, so we’ll take it easy.”

Nathlan spoke, “training march then?”, and Jorge nodded in response. He then looked over at me and smiled apologetically.

“I know this probably doesn’t make much sense right now, Runt. We’ll catch you up as we go though. For now, you and I need to grab some kit for you, aye?”

He looked meaningfully at my tattered excuse for clothes and chuckled, “That is, unless it’s an intentional look? If you want to moon every old lady between here and the Panyera I won’t stand in your way, lad.”

Vera laughed at my aghast look as I whipped around to check my trousers, finding a large rip down the back from waist to mid-thigh on one side. Even Nathlan let out a chuckle, so I tried to put some of my embarrassment aside.

I nodded at Jorge and agreed, saying “Sounds good, let’s go.”

Then I turned on my heel, sticking my nose in the air and flapping my trousers as I went in the most dignified walk I could muster. I heard laughter follow me out the door and considered it a worthy recovery.

The weather was balmy, gentle sunlight mixing with a cool breeze to keep the sweat from accumulating as we ran through empty grasslands, occasional patches of shrubbery and stumpy trees marking the odd watering hole here and there.

It was an easy jog, tuned to the slowest in our group of four, which happened to be Nathlan. I didn’t begrudge the slower pace, and instead enjoyed the steady feel of movement and the presence of company and conversation as we travelled.

We’d been moving for three days at a steady pace, running as the sun rose in the sky before pausing for lunch. After a good meal and some light weapons-work, we would continue on our mile-eating jog into the afternoon before finding a place to set up camp.

The group already had a set routine, with a rotation of roles each day, but I was integrated seamlessly into the camp work. The presence of magic made many of the unenviable tasks of camping in the wild easy.

Vera’s many pebbles made lighting fires trivial, even without firewood – between the 4 of us we could keep dozens of the runed stones activated at a time, and Vera could make them with ease. Water was never too far from reach, with another of Vera’s runed stones able to draw water from the depths of the soil. She insisted that we spread out the collections far from camp, to avoid leaving a single patch of grassland without water, but it was still far better than having to carry it with us or only camp near the irregular ponds, groves and natural springs that dotted the landscape.

My companions had opened up immediately as we left the outpost. No longer worried about triggering my sudden memory loss, they were able to answer my questions without diverting my attention away with tangents. That’s not to say Nathlan didn’t run off on more tangents than a tree has roots, however. Still, it was nice to learn the basics of who these people I travelled with were. An eclectic group to say the least, and I couldn’t decide if I had been lucky to meet them on being transported to this world, or if everyone here was just insanely interesting.

Vera seemed to be some sort of failed revolutionary, who had fled her homeland and now wandered alongside Jorge, taking contracts and learning to better control her class. Nathlan seemed to be just a privileged noble who was rebelling against his parent’s wishes for his future, though I suspected there was more to it based on the respect he seemed to have earned from both Vera and Jorge.

Jorge himself had apparently earned a title – system approved and everything – and was known as ‘The Shepard’. He was vaguely famous, mostly on the other side of the mountains and amongst a certain class of people only, but to be even remotely well-known in a world without instant communication was impressive enough. They didn’t have methods of instant communication over vast distances here, right? I filed the thought in the ‘to ask’ box of my memory, where I’d carved out a little space just for such queries.

I had precious little to share about myself of course, but they managed to tease out a few details about me in the end. They each had different techniques for doing so though. Nathlan just straight up asked me anything he wanted to know, but seemed satisfied if I didn’t have an answer. Some of his questions were quite personal for somebody he barely knew, but it was a refreshing kind of bluntness, and I wasn’t sure if it came from a lack of awareness of normal social etiquette or just a refusal to play by societies’ rules, but either way I happily answered what I could and used the same questions to find out more about him in turn.

I wasn’t even sure if Vera was actually trying to pry information out of me, or whether she was just using me as a sounding board for her own history, but she would tell me stories of her former friends and comrades as we ran. The good, the bad and the downright heart-rending. I offered a sympathetic ear, and wondered idly if perhaps she was trying to radicalise me, not that she would have to try particularly hard – from what little I knew about the Sunset Kingdoms, I was fully on her side. No Kings, no Gods, no Masters!

Jorge seemed to have two ways to evaluate me. He used his natural charisma and friendly attitude to pull info out of everyone over meals and during downtime in the evening. I was pretty sure he had an angle, as some of his questions seemed to be leading to something, almost like a subtle interview. I wasn’t smart enough to connect the seemingly random questions into a picture that fully meshed together just yet though, so I simply enjoyed the conversations he prompted.

No, it was his other method of learning about me that was becoming my favourite, however surprising a discovery it was.

The first evening on the road, after setting up our bedrolls, Vera was on cooking duty that day and so set about preparing the dinner with the travel pans – a thin flat sheet of metal with runes engraved along its bottom, and a normal-looking sauce-pan both resting on a bed of a dozen or so small pebbles. Nathlan set about drawing out his perimeter wards, as well as a specifically designed ‘camping configuration’ as he named it – ostensibly a ward surrounding the camp that kept out rain and biting insects. It would actually be a detriment in weather too harsh apparently, as snow could build up on its surface until it became too heavy and broke the ward, leading to a rude awakening in the middle of the night.

I had asked how I could help, and Jorge had just grinned at me, leading me just out of the camp before turning to face me again. The expression on his face had me a little nervous as he spoke.

“Now Runt, you and I are gonna get to know each other, aright?”

I stared back with apprehension before asking hesitantly “what do you want to know?”

He laughed and shook his head. “Too easy lad, I need to know what you’re made of before I can start your training.”

I nodded at that, realisation dawning. “Oooohh no, I get it. This is the part where you beat me up for a few bells and carefully push my buttons, seeing what gets to me and how I respond to certain things. You’ll originally be disappointed by my weakness but then my determination, grit and resolve will win you over and your disdain will turn to grudging respect before you embrace me as a brother.”

He looked surprised at my guess, then shook his head and laughed.

“What the fuck are you on about, Runt? No, we’re gonna fight and I’m gonna take your measure. If I want to know what pisses you off, I’ll ask. I’m not expecting anything from you, so you’ll struggle to disappoint me.”

He shrugged and then continued, “the fact that you’re talking to me about resolve and determination tells me you’ve not got a history of fighting, despite your last few months, and you’re just relying on stories.”

“Well, you’re not wrong there. I don’t think I’m much of a fighter…although you never know right? Perhaps I was worldclass.” I looked down at him with a hopeful grin and he shared a smile with me.

“Aye perhaps.” He then feinted a jab at my face and kicked my leg out from me as I jerked backwards. As I sprawled on the floor he gave me a cheeky wink, “Probably not though”.

I stared at him in disbelief before laughing and accepting his hand up. “So that’s how it is, hey?” He grinned again before pushing me gently back into place.

“Right, come at me when you’re ready. Hands, feet, knees, elbows whatever works for you. grappling, striking, however you fancy. I just wanna see how you fare without a weapon in your hands.”

I did as he asked, and we spent close to a bell fighting. It was incredibly off and on, with no more than a 30 breaths of actual combat at a time, but nevertheless I was exhausted, enhanced attributes be damned. He didn’t seem interested in actually teaching me anything at this stage, instead stating he was just trying to establish a baseline and any hints of a future style.

We moved on to weapons next and he presented me with a spear, then sword, then axe, then staff. I wasn’t clear where he was getting all these weapons from in the first place but when I asked, he just said “along with everything else we’re carrying.” I slowly rolled my hand in a motion to continue but he just looked blankly at me.

“…which is?” I asked slowly, perhaps sounding a little patronising but I was just as confused as he was at this point.

“Runt – what are you saying? Did you not know we have storage devices?”

I blew out a breath in a huff. “Of course I didn’t know you have storage devices! How the hell does a storage device work? You just pull whatever you want out of thin air!? What even is the device?”

Jorge just continued to stare at me in disbelief. “Lad…where did you think we kept all the camping equipment? All the bedrolls, pans, bottles, stakes, canvas, food, seasoning, cutlery…did you not notice that only Vera has a small pack?”

I blinked back at him, abruptly realising I hadn’t thought about where all the stuff was being stored until this moment. “Nathlan has a bag” I protested weakly, unsure why I was even arguing the point. Perhaps I was trying to salvage my pride, but the defeated tone in my voice seemed to cast doubts as to the effectiveness of my gambit.

“It’s actually a satchel.” Nathlan cheerily called from across the camp where he was busy doing…magic stuff I guessed.

“Told you he was an idiot” he said to Vera, who just snorted in response.

“I remember how bad you were when we first met, Nathlan. Don’t make me explain to Runt why we called you Escoye for the first 6 months.” Nathlan ducked his head in embarrassment at that, and Vera sent me a wink. Nodding my thanks to her, I turned back to Jorge.

“Okay, I can see how this looks bad for me. But in my defence, there’s a lot of new stuff happening, and I’ve not really stopped to have a moment of calm since we left Jacklin’s place.” I held up my hands pleadingly at him, attempting to add some puppy eyes into the mix. I thought a pout would be a step too far, so I aimed for just a subtle hint of a quiver of my bottom lip to complete the image of a sad, pitiful human in need of reassurance. Alas, the cutest puppy in the world couldn’t melt the ice in The Shepard’s soul, as he just snorted and gestured to a necklace he wore.

“You’re an idiot Runt, and you’re far from cute enough to pull off that expression.” The words were said with a hint of mirth though, and I cracked a conspiratorial grin as I looked down at him while he continued his explanation.

“This here is a storage item – mine’s in the form of a sentimental item I had a high-level enchanter alter, but Vera’s is just a small spatial box she brought from a trader. Has less space but was significantly cheaper too. You can place whatever you want in them, and they store it in an extra-planar space. Complete weight reduction, instant summoning, some even preserve the temperature of items you put in. Most have preservation functions built in, but they vary in power and precision so be careful storing particularly powerful items in one crafted by somebody lower levelled – relatively at least, it takes significant expertise and time to craft even the worst spatial storage device.”

“Anyway, to get back on topic, we were talking about weapon choices. We’ll keep running through options another time in case anything jumps out, but for now let’s put the spear and shield together – the combination of all the greatest warriors.”

At this comment he swelled with fake pride, puffing his chest up and straining for every inch of height. I raised an eyebrow in response, and he shrugged.

“Thought that’d get a laugh to be honest.” He muttered.

We sparred with weapons – spear to spear and shield to shield. Or more accurately, my spear and shield to mostly air, and his spear and shield to almost always my flesh. He was a surpassing expert with his armaments, to the point that after the first few exchanges where he had managed to keep his spear point an inch from my throat throughout the entire movement of me tripping to the floor, I trusted that he wouldn’t harm me even accidentally.

I gave an even poorer showing with weapons than I did without, as there was at least something instinctual about grappling and swinging fists. Not instinctual enough to make me in anyway able to stand up to somebody skilled in the area, but enough that a casual observer wouldn’t see me hit myself in the face with my own fist, which is something I managed to do with the rim of my shield a few times throughout our sparring, to Jorge’s great delight.

By the time he called an end to the session, my limbs were heavy with fatigue, sweat was running off me in small rivers down my back and forehead, and I seemed unable to catch my breath, regardless of the rest time.

I was surprised at how hard I’d worked to be perfectly honest. I might not know any details about my previous life anymore, but I still had a relatively stable core identity, and that did not include being a particularly driven person. The thing is though, this was fun! Like really fun. I knew I didn’t have any sort of fear of hard exercise, the way I found enjoyment in the rhythm of the day’s running told me enough to know that, but discovering a love of fighting was a pleasant surprise.

Jorge seemed to agree, saying “Well consider me appropriately impressed with your perseverance, grit and resolve.”

I chuffed a laugh at the call back and made my own comment in return; “So, oh great and wise Shepard, what is your analysis of this little lamb?”

While I was under no illusions of my martial prowess, I couldn’t help but hope for some positive feedback. An even smaller part of me was also holding out hope that he would somehow be able to find out some secrets to my character and help me rediscover who I had been…from a few bells of sparring. Hhhmmm. Perhaps I was reading too much into this new magical world and needed to reset my expectations.

“Ha! I like that: little lamb. Better than Runt, isn’t it? As to what I’ve learned?” He cocked his head to the side, considering, before taking on a serious look as he leaned forwards. “From what I’ve seen I think the spear is a good weapon for you. Don’t get me wrong, you’re atrocious with it, and the shield too, but it’s clear you favour a defensive and reactive style. Same with the unarmed fighting, you seem to hold back, testing range and hoping for your opponent to make a mistake. It’s not necessarily a bad strategy, but there’s some big flaws you’ll need to cover up for it to work properly for you.”

“I am under no illusions about my skill with or without weapons Jorge, I know I need a hell of a lot of training.”

“Nah, you’re missing my point, Lamb. Of course you need lots of training, and experience – which a lot of the high-born forget – but I’m talking about your entire approach to fighting, and probably beyond too. Being reactive is good. It speaks to a patient mind, and letting your enemies make their own mistakes prevents you from making a bunch of unforced errors yourself. It also means you’ll be less likely to start fights you can’t win, and people with this approach are generally well-regarded because of that. But it does have some serious downsides that need to be addressed, mitigated or at least understood if they can’t be changed.” He looked at me seriously when he spoke, and I got the sense this was a lesson he’d be repeating to me consistently over the next several months of travelling.

“For one, if you’re always waiting for opportunities to exploit, you’re ceding the initiative to your enemies. They get to decide where, when, and how you fight. They get to strike first, to dictate the rules of engagement and you are left reacting to them. It narrows your options, makes you predictable. Being defensive can be good in certain situations, but only if you retain the ability and willingness for a pre-emptive strike. I can see already that it’s something we’ll have to work on but I’ve dealt with people like you before, and I’m confident we’ll get you there.”

He clapped me on the back towards the end, but I shrugged it off, stepping back.

“I’m not the type…I don’t want to be the type of person who strikes first. I don’t want to go around committing pre-emptive attacks on people and creatures if I’m not sure that they are my enemies, Jorge. I’m not a ruthless killer.”

Jorge just gazed back at me, a hard look in his eyes. “I’m not gonna lecture you kid, I know from experience that it won’t help. You’ve got your opinions, and I’ve got mine. I will say two things though. One – you might not think about yourself that way, but the world will see you as a ruthless killer if you get strong enough regardless. How many creatures have you left in the mud just to reach your level? I’ve no doubt they attacked first, but nobody out there will believe that, especially as you start climbing the ladder higher and higher.” That thought stopped me, the way it echoed with the description of my skill Indomitable Prey confirming the truth of it. He continued though, and his next point hit home like a hammer.

“And to my second point – Its fine risking your life for the moral high ground when you’ve got nothing to live for. But at some point, you’re gonna be fighting for somebody else’s future, and that’s a different calculation. Ask Vera for her story if you want a real example of that process, and the scars it can leave.”

He grabbed my shoulder again after he delivered that final thought and squeezed it gently. His face softened and he spoke slowly, as if willing the words to penetrate my thick skull.

“I’m impressed with what I’ve seen so far, I really am lad. I’m not trying to scare you off or break you down. It’s a good life if you make it one, and we’ll make sure you can make the choices you want. I just want you to know that the decisions you make now about how you approach this world will have consequences.”

I digested the words, turned them about in my mind and tried to analyse them without emotion. It didn’t work of course; I was feeling far too defensive and self-conscious after the last few bells to be able to calmly discuss my naivety or idealism. Before I managed to put my foot in my mouth and say something I’d regret later, Vera hollered over the camp that food was ready.

Jorge pranced over to her and started pulling wooden platters from his storage necklace, and I had the suspicion he had somehow managed to time our entire conversation just right to deliver those final words before dinner. Eyes narrowed, I took my place in the circle and the evening meal was joined.