The Wizard Killer - Season Two

Episode 5

The trunk opens without a problem. On the top are rolls of red, blue, and green silks. I try to find a cleaner part of my hand, and run a finger along the silks. "That stuff's worth some good coin."

I bring the other trunk over and lay the silks on it, then I dive back in.

"Huh, thank goodness for small miracles." I pull out some decent looking clothing: shirts, vests, pants, even boots.

So, these people were traders. That's some serious bad luck to run across wind spiders. The traders either didn't know this area had them, or there's some mana leakage going on that's drawing them in.

My eyes dart around as I try to find where that memory came from. The only other thing coming to mind is that they turn a shade of purple when they die, but I already figured that much out.

I lay out a set of clothes and boots that look like they'll fit and keep digging around in the trunk.

Hauling out a small brown bag, I open it up and laugh as I pull out a six-inch-long wooden handle. Pushing on the end, a beautiful razor comes out of the handle.

"Oh wow." Holding the blade up close, I can't see a lick of rust on it. Unbelievable.

I squint up at the sky. "Doesn't look like anything's about to fall on me, and the hair on the back of my neck's not standing up. So, does this mean I could have a shave? Or as soon as I put my weapons down to do that, are wind spiders or other yigging nightmare garbage going to show up?" I put it back in the bag and put it aside.

"I know my luck. Although..." I go to tug on my unruly beard and realize it's not there: there's just stubble. My hand's drawn to my head, where I find that my hair's gone. Like my face, it's stubble.

But last time I came back to life, I still had hair, didn't I? Maybe it was the thing with the wesleks. Huh.

Now I'm feeling something off. I pick up the swords and lay them right at my feet and tuck my pistol into my pants again.

After yet another suspicious scan of the campsite, I reach into the trunk. Treasure.

"Mother of Mercy, seriously?"

It's a leather bladder full with some liquid. I undo the top and smell it, nothing. I hold it up, dripping some in my mouth. Water, it's definitely water. I can't believe it. I take a quick gulp and put it aside. Lastly, I find a full loaf of bread wrapped in a thin towel.

I plunk myself down and lean against trunk. Gazing upon the carnage and ruin around me, I eat and drink. I'm a king of a desolate land.

As the sun starts to set, I tie up the water bladder. Night's coming, and I need a plan that's better than just 'head west towards the smoke and see what happens during the night.' I'm pretty sure that if that carn that hated me so much didn't die, it'll find me. And though I'm confident wind spiders don't come out after dusk, there's a thousand other things I don't want to run into in pitch black.

Sighing, I force my weary self up. "I need to figure out how I can stay here."

Hmm. I realize I haven't done a thorough search of the whole area, so I get on it. I turn up four empty pistols and a belt pouch of bullets. While the pistols are old and cheap looking, the bullets are better. A few of them fit my mana-pistol. It's not bad to be topped up.

Finding two scabbards large enough for the oner's swords, I cut up a leather vest from one of the dead guys for straps. It's a good fit; I should be able to run with the swords on my back if I need to. Ha, if.

I look at the smoke that's been coming from the west and wonder how far away it is. I'm tempted to just go for broke. I've got a full stomach and enough water for at least two days. And then the argument to end all arguments pops up, as I remember that I don't have my short sword. Yigging scavengers, I'm going to enjoy running into them again.

I'm tempted to make a fire, but my head's telling me that the last thing I should do. Anything with a curious soul will come for miles.

Folding my arms, I stare at the too familiar campsite. "So, what do I do, just lay down among the blood and guts?" I shake my head. "Sleeping on the ground and out in the open's a bad idea, fire or not."

Staring at the trunks, an idea hits me. I put the damaged trunk in front of the other one and load it up with bodies. I turn it, so the hole's facing the other trunk. Standing at the firepit, the first thing I would see if I came in as an outsider would be the body-trunk. I make sure the other one opens away, toward the beige tent's flaps.

Washing myself off with as little water as I can, I wipe myself on some of the silks and get dressed in the clothes I laid out. I'm sure I heard my feet sigh as I put them in boots that miraculously fit.

I gaze up at the dark-orange-and-red sky. The day's almost done, and I'm beat. That stupid buzzing won't go away either.

Putting the oner's swords and my mana-pistol at one end of the hidden trunk, I climb in and cover myself with the silks. Closing the lid, I make sure that if anyone opens that thing, I'll be able to see them.

I don't remember falling asleep, but my eyes snap open as something slams the trunk. Looks like I've got company.

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