Siege State

Tom stalked through the gloom, feet stepping lightly over covered ground, spear cocked under his arm. The autumn wind danced through the trees, fickle and cool, teasing his hair about and bringing him the scents of the forest. A muffled grunting sounded in the undergrowth ahead of him, and a sour grin spread across his face.

He had been tracking this boar for hours now, part of the training program Val had devised to get him used to fighting as an Idealist, and to hopefully manifest the rest of his skills. It reminded him of the boar he had fought not so long ago, that had tossed him about like a ragdoll. This time would be different. Soon, he would make his move.

He followed the sounds through the gloom for some minutes longer, assured now that there was only one boar. Big, if not as big as the monster leading the herd that his unit had fought. He began to wish he had a perception skill, it would make tracking easier, maybe even give him a clue as to whether the boar was a mana beast, and if so, what to expect from it.

The sheer size of the thing made it very likely it had some kind of ability. Regular animals didn’t grow so large. He heard a curious whiffling noise from it, and immediately after felt some impressions from his familiar: caution, tension. It was time.

He and Val had spent several hours last night feeding essences to his tattoos. After sifting through all of the essences he’d bought, the odd ones he’d been given from Bubbles, and the huge range of varied and esoteric stones Val had collected over years, he’d still only managed to meet the requirements for one of them.

His Quiet Under Moonlight was missing a single silence essence, everything else accounted for. They were rare, obviously, given that Val had found merely a single one in all her years in the Deep, but he had hope he’d be able to ferret out another with his Ideal somehow.

He’d also fulfilled all of the requirements for his Wings of Grief, bar the swarm essence. Val stayed well away from any swarms, even those not large enough to sweep a village, and for good reason too. Unfortunately, near a village-killer swarm was likely the only place you could find them. Apparently, according to Val, they manifested in Wayrest very, very occasionally, given the sheer density of human life in the city, but were invariably sold for exorbitant sums. Rare as collective rituals were, swarm essences were rarer, ensuring demand always outweighed supply.

He had manifested one familiar, though. And the huge collection of essences they had between them had come in handy in choosing how to aspect it.

Tom slunk through the trees like a wraith, positioning himself. His month-long flight through the Deep had been an excellent crash course on moving through the forest quickly and quietly. Autumn had brought some changes to the forest, and he was still making adjustments.

He rounded the trunk of a large tree, stepping gingerly on its raised roots. He paused as the massive boar shuffled into view beyond it, snuffling about in the deadfall, sloppy noises issuing from it as it gobbled up some mushrooms from the soil at the base of a tree.

Tom smiled wryly. He’d found more than a few mushrooms while tracking the boar himself. He could feel strength and vitality surging in his limbs as his passive skill did its work.

Skill activated: Sweet Suffering.

Elf Fingers Mushroom Poison - Negated: Major buff to dexterity. Major buff to reflexes. Minor buff to illusion resistance. Duration: Short.

Blue Bearded Moss Poison - Negated: Major buff to strength. Moderate buff to health regeneration. Duration: Moderate.

He’d forgotten how amazing it felt to have random buffs stacking up. Above and beyond his new Idealist temperings, his body felt incredible. It was something he very much needed practice with though.

He and Val had talked long into the night about the specifics of his skillset. Sweet Suffering was a huge boon, but a random and somewhat unreliable one. He couldn’t always count on having it active, or being able to control which buffs he got. Part of his training, from now on, would focus on fighting with different combinations of buffs active to acclimatise to them.

Tom settled himself, calming his mind and focusing, training it on the boar. Then he made his move.

Agony, he thought, loosing the skill at it.

Immediately the boar gave a sharp squeal at the pain flowing through it, bucking and kicking around itself. The actinic arcs of miniature lightning wreathing it threw bizarre, flickering shadows and tiny flashes of pink light as the pig thrashed spasmodically.

The boar calmed itself quickly, although calm perhaps wasn’t quite the right word to describe it. It swept its massive head back and forth, searching for the source of the pain. Its furious little eyes found Tom soon enough, and the muscles bunching in its shoulders was more than enough warning for him.

It exploded forward at it, churning the soft soil as it launched itself into a charge. Tom tensed his legs, readying himself, and fired another skill at it.

Misery.

Tom felt more than saw the skill activate. It did have a slight visual component, a tiny hair-thin pink line connecting his centre of mass to the boar’s, but the other component of the skill was more important.

Tom could feel the boar’s position. While it was linked to him, any damage he took would be shared in part with it, and he also seemed to gain a slight understanding of its constitution.

Tom felt a small spike of shock. The feeling from the skill was disorienting, but only mildly so. No, the shock was his own, from something else he had sensed through the skill. The boar’s constitution, its vitality, was enormous. Far bigger than its size would imply. It must have some kind of life-attunement, or possibly self-healing. Either way, this was going to be a long fight.

Tom threw himself backwards and behind the tree just moments before the boar reached him. He hit the ground and rolled over his shoulder as a massive impact resounded through the forest. The tree he’d just dived behind shuddered as the boar crashed into it with its shoulder, careening off in the opposite direction that Tom had rolled.

As he came to his feet he cast another Agony at the pig. For something with as much regeneration as he suspected, it was important that he loaded as much damage over time onto it as possible, as quickly as possible.

The boar shook off the impact and turned, searching for him again. As it did, Tom kept part of his attention on his wisp, waiting for the pink pulse indicating Agony coming off cooldown.

The boar charged at him again before he could cast, but not with the same reckless abandon of its first one. This time, it kept its head low, its eyes trained on him.

Tom set his feet and raised his spear, levelling it at the charge. Just as it was about to come in range he jogged his grip and flicked it out towards the pig’s left eye, and immediately jumped right.

The tactic worked as well as he could have hoped. The boar flinched slightly to its right, throwing off its charge and fouling the aim of its great tusks. The spearhead drew a shallow line of blood across its cheek as it turned. The echo that activated on the attack dug the wound just a little deeper still.

Tom kept backing up, but as the boar arrested its momentum it lashed out with a hindleg and caught him on the chest at the far end of its reach. Even so, the shallow blow sent Tom stumbling back until he fetched up against a tree. Echo activated once again, but the phantom hoof striking at the boar’s hind leg didn’t seem to have caused any damage.

Even the glancing blow was incredibly painful, and Tom knew his chest would be a mass of purple come a few hours. Pre-Ideals, such a blow would have ended the fight right there. As he righted himself, he felt a small amount of damage from the blow get passed along the Misery-link directly back to his opponent.

Before it could turn fully to meet him head-on again, Tom rushed in, stabbing it once, twice, thrice, in its flank. Each strike was deep and true, made with near perfect form. Although he’d trained most with the sword, the Academy made damn sure everyone knew how to use a spear for their Reaping. Tom having been on three of them had only reinforced his proficiency. Echo proved its worth truly now. Each of the strikes sank deep into the boar’s side, and the echoes, while nowhere near as damaging as a true strike, still layered up the damage. The boar kept turning, its massive bulk working against it, giving Tom time to shuffle and slide, turning with it, striking out again and again.

As the wounds accumulated he began to worry. The first strikes he had delivered to it had already stopped bleeding, and through the link he could feel the boar’s massive vitality surging, battling, trying to close the wounds. In the murk of the forest, a faint green light began to shine from them.

Shit, he thought.

The boar managed to turn enough that when it flailed its head about, Tom had to dance backwards to avoid being gored. That gave it enough space to finally turn to face him. Tom set himself again, levelling the spear at its face, and cast another Agony at it. Then, before it had a chance to charge him again, he stepped towards it and thrust, the spear point sinking deep into the meat of its neck.

“Hush,” he breathed, as he pulled the spear free, hoping it would be enough to tip the battle in his favour.

Relief welled in his chest as he saw the green light stutter and fade, but fear flared in its place as the boar burst forwards in a small spurt of speed. He managed to turn his body as it struck him, and its tusk skittered down his breastplate before stabbing into his light mail hauberk and drawing a long, painful gash down his ribs. A phantom tusk exacted a toll from the boar’s neck in revenge.

Tom bit down on a scream, not wanting to attract any larger predators to the fight. He was too close to get any leverage for his spear so he backpedalled, wincing in pain, as he tried to create distance. His only consolation was the thrum of some of the damage rebounding back down the link and into the boar.

The boar still had plenty of fight left in it. Blood was flowing freely from the wounds on its side and neck, but compared to the sheer mass of the creature it was a drop in a bucket. Tom desperately needed to turn it again, to attack its unprotected flanks, and use its mass against it. If he could lame one of its legs, all the better.

He kept trying to backpedal as it turned to him once more. His wisp pulsed, and he cast another Agony - just as his back hit wood. A quick glance showed he’d fetched against the same tree he spotted the boar around. More worryingly, the pig had him squarely in its sight again, and it was too close to get his spear in between them properly.

He saw the muscles bunch in its shoulders. The stiff, bristly fur between them pinched. It snorted, a violent, sudden noise in the quiet. Blood pounded in Tom’s ears as he sought for a plan, an escape. The only image that came to mind was him being pinned to the tree and smeared across the wood like butter on toast.

The boar lowered its head, tusks pointing straight at him. Its hooves punched into the dirt, and -

A huge form smashed into the side of the boar, snarling, growling. The sheer mass involved in the impact stunned Tom. The boar had been sent skidding, sliding tens of metres away through soil and rocks and roots. In its place stood his new familiar.

Four muscled legs, ending in pitch black, razor sharp claws, each as long as Tom’s hand, dug furrows in the earth. Its dense black fur shivered and bristled, standing aggressively between thickly muscled shoulders. Its head, big and blocky, hung low, its short snout set in a snarl revealing long, glassy, black teeth. Its eyes, pitch black too, remained fixed on the boar. A low rumble sounded in its barrel chest.

Sesame, his bear familiar. Named for the tiny black seeds that came from the far west beyond Horizon. He was larger than any bear Tom had ever seen - and he had seen several mana-attuned versions of the brown bears that made their homes in the Deep across his various Reapings. Its haunches rose above Tom’s shoulders, and it towered over him by several feet, at least, when it stood. The bear was thick too. Two of him couldn’t link arms around its middle, and Tom was doubtful three of him could either. He and Val were thankful they had gone outside for the occasion when he had summoned it for the first time last night.

Okay? Was the thought Tom received from it, and he quickly sent it mental confirmation that he was alright. It twitched its small round ears at him in acknowledgement.

Pig bad. Pig hurt you. Kill pig, it sent.

Yes, he replied, finding his balance again.

The boar had wriggled to its feet again, a laborious process for such a big creature, and currently had its wounded side turned to them. Green light was beginning to shine from its wounds again. Tom quickly checked his wisp and found Hush still on cooldown.

Go, Sesa, he sent.

With that, Sesa’s chest worked like a bellows, and he reared up on his back legs, his two long forelegs hanging just off the ground. As he dropped to the ground he unleashed a mighty roar, so deep and loud Tom felt like his ribs would shake apart. But that wasn’t the best part.

The air, previously quiet and still, was filled with a storm of razor sharp shards of obsidian. They flitted through the space, thudding into the side of the boar in a rapid staccato, like a violent gust of wind on a glass window in a downpour.

He and Val had thought long and hard about how to aspect his familiar, and had eventually settled on fire, sand, stone, and two dark essences. The combination produced an obsidian aspect. They had chosen it for three main reasons. The first, because the familiar was likely bigger than average, based on its life essence requirement, and a stone-based aspect would increase its defence. The second, because its aspecting would affect its magic ranged attack, and seeing the result, Tom was more than happy. Thirdly, the ability mentioned bleed damage on its physical attacks, and what better to make wounds than razor sharp claws and teeth.

Tom charged in as soon as the deadly hail finished. Sesa lumbered alongside him. At a mental nudge from his familiar, he swerved sideways, allowing the bear space to swipe. One of its huge paws crashed into the boar’s head, its claws raking deep gashes. Tom circled to its side, happy to let Sesa hold its attention, and began thrusting into its haunch, again and again.

The boar put up a valiant fight, its mindless rage and persistent regeneration carrying it through until Tom cast another Hush. After that, they made short work of it.

~~~~~

Tom collapsed in a heap when they were done, the gash on his ribs stinging. Blood ran down his mail, dripping to the soil. Sesame ambled over, nuzzling him gently, and then sat down on his hindquarters in an incongruously human-like fashion. His ears and nose twitched as he sifted information from the wind.

Tom marvelled at his new familiar. Sesa was incredible. He’d never imagined having such a powerful companion to fight alongside. The big bear sat placidly, completely belying its earlier terrifying display. He was incredibly strong, and faster than he looked, though not particularly agile. He was even quite difficult to see in this environment, being completely black aside from a grey bib and muzzle. His melee attacks were devastating, to say nothing of his roar.

They still needed to work on their coordination, though. Newly formed familiars took a little bit to …get up to speed, according to Val. The Instructors at the Academy said it was the intelligence The World provided them acclimatising to a physical body. In time, he would even develop a personality, beyond being fiercely protective of his summoner.

They had originally planned for Sesa to ambush the boar during its initial charge at Tom, and he wasn’t quite sure what had gotten lost in communication there. Overall, he was still happy. Ecstatic even.

This was what it was to be an Idealist.

After a few minutes Smitten came trotting out from behind a nearby tree, tail wagging happily. Val was not long after her.

She nodded at Sesa, and immediately set her hands to Tom’s ribs. All of a sudden, he felt like he was a piece of joinery tapped gently into alignment by a carpenter, except that the angle he was aligning with was Val. Or maybe her mana. It felt bizarre, to say the least. Over the next few minutes, the stinging gash on his ribs sealed up, and soon enough he felt good as new.

Val stood and turned to Sesa, pausing briefly with an eyebrow cocked at him. He gave a low chuff, and bobbed his head at her. She pressed her hands into his thick black fur for a few moments before pulling them away, a satisfied look on her face.

“Good job, Tom. You too, Sesa. Not a bad first day of training. Plenty more to come though,” she told them, a sly grin on her face.

Tom felt a grin steal over his face. He was an Idealist, well and truly. He would rise to the challenge.