This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/PepperAntique on 2024-10-30 21:41:32+00:00.

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Writer’s note: It’s almost like Joey recognizes tropes when they come his way.

Enjoy.

As Joey and Noodle ran through the mountainside forest he had gained a new opinion of the canyon/shit slingers.

Sure. They were still annoying. And he still hated them.

But they were also terrifying.

He should have known better really. They were primates of some kind, or at least this worlds version of them. And like the baboons and chimps of Earth, they were some kind of colony or pack creature. And the woods of the mountains were clearly their territory.

And, unbeknownst to him, they had been going deeper and deeper into that territory.

Now... well.... now they were running.

Joey was covered in fluids and materials he didn't even want to think about. He was also battered and bruised. His healing ability was fighting that part off. But it felt slower, and even if it didn't he was still getting battered as his improvised shield could only protect so much.

He could also sense the frustration and fear from Noodle, who was not used to being so stressed. Or at least hadn't been before meeting him.

The trees were alive with the screeches, ululations, and odd farting noises of the slingers. They were everywhere, and so loud that Joeys ears were ringing even as they flew through the woods.

And it wasn't just the projectiles they had to worry about.

The things had grabbed at them. Their massively over-muscled arms reaching out and grasping at any part of them they could reach any time they came too close to a tree or too near the branches above. Joeys clothes were torn, and more than a few times he'd had to lash out as they had attempted to haul him up by his antlers, his enchanted beanie having been stolen hours before.

The first time they'd done that they'd almost gotten him up into the canopy above where they could kill him easily. But a jet of flame from Noodle had caused them to drop him even as her tail lashed out and battered several of them from their perch. Still, it had caused excruciating pain in his head. As had the transmitted pain of the slingers, which his horns made him feel too.

He was thankful he'd bought replacement rapiers, and now lashed out at the creatures anytime they attempted to arrest his running retreat.

But they were so numerous that even when he scored hits, the injured slinger would just fade away, tending their wounds, as new ones replaced them.

So... they were running. And they'd been running for about three hours now.

He was doing what he could to keep up with Noodle. But the drake had advantages he didn't.

For starters Noodle was shrugging off most of the attacks. They couldn't get through her natural armor, and she was much too large for even groups of the slingers to pull up into the trees like they'd tried to do with Joey. So really she was just getting battered and abused. But her sense of smell was also greater than his and she was struggling with the overwhelming scent of the... excrement... being flung at them, a lot of which had hit her face.

Also, just like before, she was basically ignoring the trees as she ran. Instead of having to go around them like Joey had initially been doing, she simply barreled through them. This only caused increasing agitation and chaos among the shit slingers.

Joey had originally been trying to lead her through the woods. Then he'd fallen back and tried to simply run beside her.

But now he'd settled for following her. After all it was easier to move through the thick woods when they were bulldozed over than it was to weave through them while trying to avoid the grasping arms they seemed to be made of now.

It had, if anything, made his running retreat easier. In the initial portion of the desperate escape, Joey had realized a glaring flaw in his usual fighting style.

He could slow down his perception of the world around him, and could move faster than most people could handle. In fact, now that his divine magic had been reduced even further he could do so to an even greater degree.

All the speed and reflexes in the world meant nothing when absolutely every surface seemed to be made of enemies. Even moving and seeing as fast as he could, he had been unable to avoid being grabbed at, and couldn't dodge EVERY projectile.

But with Noodle leaving a path of reckless destruction and frantically scattering slingers, he'd at least been able to get some space to breath.

They needed to get the fuck out of this forest.

As they reached the apex of a ridge Joey saw through a clearing in the trees. He looked up toward the higher part of the mountain and saw their chance, uncomfortable as he was certain it would be.

He ran in front of noodle for a moment and, as he neared her angry head, pushed it toward the higher elevation.

"Towards the treeline!" He yelled as he flared with white light turned his shoulder down to tackle his way through a, somewhat, smaller tree. It hurt, and he staggered for a moment. But the angry drake got the message as she realized that he was determined to head that way.

The two of them turned toward the higher, and much colder, elevation several hundred feet up the side of the mountain.

And the two of them kept running as the slingers continued to harass and pelt them.

“You weren’t telling the truth.” Kaladi said as she sat on the back of Grasswing behind Ykmir. Her seat was a few feet further back on the wyvern’s massive saddle, and it was hard to hear over the wind. But her helmet made up for that fact with its vocal amplification and auditory enhancements. “Back at the town. You recognized the drake when the commander described it. And the whole town turned to you at the mention of it and the man we’re after.”

Ykmir looked back at her with a cocked eyebrow.

“Aye.” He said simply. “I already told you I’m one of the clan’s den scouts. I do know the drake you’re talking about. Like I said when we talked after. Yellow scaled, purple speckled, striker headed bristleback. About eighty miles or so into the Gental.”

She nodded even though she knew he wouldn’t see it.

“And the fugitive?” She asked.

“Don’t know that one.” He replied with the shrug. “Like I said. Spoke to a traveler about bonding a drake. Can’t tell you if he was your fugitive. Or which way he ended up going after he left town.”

“And did he match our images?” She asked. They’d shown several magically created images of Joseph Choi to the handful of people they’d held back for additional questions.

“If those pictures had had thick beards, and no antlers… maybe.” Ykmir replied easily. “But then you’d also have someone who looks like half the vagabonds on the road.”

Kaladi nodded. It was true that, minus the antlers, Choi wasn’t exactly the most unique looking person. Slightly taller than average for a human. And, for someone who had apparently beaten Morris Kestin in a fight, he was rail thin. But he wasn’t remarkable. And if he had grown a beard, which wouldn’t surprise her given his travel through the woods, then it was true that he would be even less unique looking.

“What’s his crime anyways?” Ykmir asked. “What did this person do to warrant an entire squad of the Legion to chase them across the country? You lot aren’t known for leaving Ostielle for anything short of a war. Least not in force anyways.”

She considered the question. They’d contracted the rider for a hundred gold a day. Fifty just for him and his mount to ride out and gain information for them. And another fifty for her to be allowed to ride along with him so she could keep the team informed. The commander wasn’t a fan of flying. So she was the next best choice. Regardless, part of the contract he and the Commander had come up with together had involved him not revealing anything the Legion revealed to him unless he got clearance.

“The King and the Duke determined him a person of interest. To remain in Ostielle until they determined otherwise.” She said after making her decision. “He has information and talents that they determined were useful to the kingdom.”

“Ah. So he was an unwilling prisoner?” Ykmir asked. “And he escaped?”

She didn’t really have an answer for that. It was an, unfortunately accurate, oversimplification.

“He didn’t kill anybody or blow anything up or anything like that did he?” Ykmir followed up.

She shook her head. “No. In fact he’s actually quite agreeable. If a bit… hot tempered.” She replied. She hadn’t forgotten the display he’d put on that had left her, the commander, and Sergeant Dor, struggling to get their hands free from metal prisons that he’d manufactured almost out of nothing. “He is dangerous though.”

Ykmir nodded.

“If he can bond a drake like you think he has, then he kind of has to be.” The half giant said. “And that’s saying nothing of the fact that he escaped Ostielle and the Cobalt Legion. I imagine the list of people who can do that is pretty short.”

“It is our pride that it is.” She countered. She paused as she listened to a message in her helmet. “Turn east.” She said as she tapped at his side and pointed that direction. “Into the mountains.”

Ykmir looked back at her curiously. Then he shrugged and kicked lightly at Grasswing’s side. The Wyvern screeched a bit, then began turning that way.

He hoped the…

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