In a strange world as a Doppelganger

Chapter 16 - I beat a level two!

The next day I wake up ready to rumble. I am going to fight some frogs and do my best to achieve level one! That's a depressing thought, aiming for level one. I have a feeling that good things will come if I can just break out of level zero. I stretch my limbs and grab my things. Sword and knife is a comfortable combo, very effective I've found. There is a slight drizzle coming down, will the river flood if the rain starts pouring down? Frogs like rain, I think. But does it give them an actual upper hand?

Today I head up the river, to throw them off slightly. I keep creeping along the edge until I find a lonely frog catching fish in its basket. There is a sense of heightened awareness about it. The frog isn't relaxing much but keeps looking around it and scanning the surroundings. Further up still, I cross the river carefully. Entering the treeline on this side I do my utmost to keep my senses open and ready. For the most part the vegetation appears identical to that of my side. Slowly I move toward my prey. Why would it be staying aware of its own side of the forest? I manage to get just to the edge of the muddy river bank before it snaps its head around. Before it can let out a croak I swing both my blades at its throat. They both connect and blood spurts forth as the boggard stumbles into the river. I give it a quick finish. The element of surprise really changes the odds.

I grab the fishing basket, and its contents, and cross the river as fast as I can. I swear I can hear croaking as I enter the woods and run off with my prize. Arriving at the burrow I celebrate loudly. The wheezing screeches that I let out pierce through the air. Maybe I should practice talking? Do I even know any languages? I know I can think clearly but for some reason I can't imagine properly how to make the sounds for words. Gutting the fish is easy enough with my knife, five fishes in total lay before me now. I bury the guts a few feet beyond the trees and feast on the river fish. Even the rat seem to enjoy these quite a bit. With this basket I could do all sorts of things. I could get my own fish, I could take it apart to see how it's been made and then replicate it maybe? For now I place it down in the burrow along with my old knife, my precious stash of things. It's still early, should I go for another round at the river?

I stirred up quite some activity among the frogs, there are three level twos at the spot where I had just been. There's no way I am going for them today. Let's head down instead and see if that end is calmer. Somewhat calmer indeed. By the very end of the frogs territory there is a single level two on lookout. Tempting as it is, I'll stay back for a while and observe it. It hops up and down a stretch of maybe 50 feet, stopping here and there to scan the treeline. The frog saw me, it looked right at me and simply stared me in the eyes for a minute. Looking around quickly, the frog slowly starts crossing the river. If it comes all the way over, I'll fight it. Our eyes stay locked as it comes closer and closer, drawing a spear from its back. It shifts a club to its other hand and lifts the spear high, taking aim. Had it been faster and maybe more decisive it would have gotten me, but I had plenty of time to prepare for the incoming strike. I roll to the side to avoid the spear, apparently that was the frogs plan. As I was busy dodging the spear, the frog advanced fast and the club slams down into the ground close to my head. I look up just to see its neck inflate. No you don't! My sword shoots up and pierces into the balloon-like throat. Air hisses but very little blood comes from the puncture. The frog shoots its tongue right in my face. It stucks to me like glue, it feels so gross. I kick it as hard as I can, throwing the frog to the ground as well. I twist my body and get back on my feet. My sword comes down but is blocked by the club. The knife, on the other hand, finds purchase in its shoulder. The frog whinces and punches me in the stomach as it makes to stand up. It pulls its tongue in and I am thrust forward and its club strikes me in the side. I lock the club between my arm and ribs. No hesitation from the frog as it lets go of the club and goes in for another punch. At the cost of being hit I thrust both my weapons into the enemy's belly. Not stopping there I twist both the blades as the frog punches me yet again, this time there is a clear lack of power. Slowly, it slumps to the ground. It looks me dead in the eye with an unyielding fury while it takes its last breaths.

The all too familiar exhaustion washes over me and I fall to my knees. For a moment I simply sit there and breathe. After a few minutes I take a look at the frog. Does it have anything I could use? There is the club, the two spears on its back and the spear that is stuck in the ground. I grab all of the items, slowly kick the frog to the river bank amd then make for the burrow. Guess it's a few more days of sleep before I dare doing that again.