World Drifter

chapter two

Chapter Two

"You sure?" Arrack, son of the chief, asked as he heard the report of one of the huntsmen sent to harvest Korigi. Korigi are marshland fruits that were highly sought after for both its taste and the fact that it retained its edibility status for months.

"Yes," The huntsman replied. "Eighteen Gurugas dead and several dozen Kedos with missing acid sacks. We followed the trail of the dead and found two dead Remoro. There was a hill she-bull close to the corpses but the wounds like those inflicted to the Gurugas and the Kedos were made by something long and sharp. Very sharp."

"Did you send scouts further on?" Arrack asked raising a brow at the thought that Remoro were killed by nomads. They were usually avoided and scared off if confrontation was inevitable but never fought. These things were hard to kill and tended to do most of the killing.

"Yes," the huntsman nodded. "If the nomads that did this are still nearby my men will find them. And these are very fresh kills, no more than a day separated from each other so I am guessing that we are within mounted man distance of the nomads."

"Remoro?" Kidala, younger sister of Arrack at the age of seven, whispered to her older sister Teali in amazement. "They must have impressive hunters. Maybe even a hunter worthy of your hand sister."

"No," Teali shook her head. She was older by two years. "They are probably a warrior tribe and very barbaric. I don’t want to be married to a brute."

"But that’s still one strong hunter you could be married to," Kidala said smiling at her sister.

Two days later…

Two days without food, water was not a problem after I found a running river, but food was harder to find. The stomach pains were so overwhelming that most of the time I spent kneeling over and leaning against whatever was available.

I was near wits end when I spotted my next meal.

Completely unaccustomed to feeling hunger for two days straight my mind became slightly less productive than it ought to have been. My mind, in a less food deprived state, would have alerted me to the difficulty of the task ahead.

My target was the crippled shark-dog. It had been limping near the edge of the river its destination unknown to me but the wound unforgettable. It had been abandoned by the other two as they were no longer in sight.

As before I bathed both blades in the acid and then lurked my way towards my prey. It did not notice me, even after I had killed two of its pack mates it had as of yet to register my smell as that of a viable threat. Instead of taking it by surprise as I should have my starving stomach overruled a stealthy kill and so I ran at the dog roaring my lungs out in bloodlust. The dog immediately recognized me as a threat and took a stance of appropriate accordance. It leapt at me jaws wide open, my automatic reaction was to swat it away which meant that the broadside of the machete clapped against the side of the shark’s neck and face.

The way it launched itself at me forced me to abandon both blades or suffer acidic burns myself. It tried to tackle and mangle me to death but the burning acidic took effect and it started squealing in pain unable to concentrate on killing me. I was able to kick and struggle to free myself of the beast and stand up again. The blades to my utter horror were behind the dog and I had no other weapon on me save the bottle of alcohol, but it would be such a waste to use that now. Quickly searching around for a weapon I discovered two good size wedge shaped rocks. Taking one in each hand I rushed the beast before it could regain its senses from the blistering pain.

My first blow landed on the temple area of the head where the burning acid was eating away the flesh. My second blow fell on the crown of its head with a resounding crack. It did not die but it did retreat several feet, enough to allow me to retrieve my sword.