Neviara
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Chapter 42: Kill It, Kill It With Fire
🕑 Added 2024-01-15 17:00:15 +0000 UTCIt didn't take long to find someone who needed a helping hand. Nothing major, of course -- Chad wasn't trying to throw Jerry in the deep end, here. A minor chore or bit of help around the town was just what they were looking for.
Annie and Squawkers stayed behind at the house to watch for other attackers sneaking about. Despite Gram Gram's newfound powers, Chad still had no intention of leaving her alone. Not until that army of cats had leveled up a little more.
That left just Chad and Jerry to handle things. And so, they found themselves standing before a large shed, its paint faded and peeling in places. The broken and grey husks of old wasp nests adorned the edges of the roof. Luckily for them, there didn't seem to be any fresh ones about at the moment.
"Here it is." A middle-aged woman handed them the keys. "I'll warn you, though, I haven't checked it in a while. Been too busy to garden lately, even before all this."
"Thanks, Jess!" Chad called as the woman headed back to her house.
"No problem!" She called back over her shoulder. "Hope it's got the sort of critters you're looking for! Lemme know if you find those generators in there!"
After she left, Jerry eyed the shed warily. "So... we're killing insects?"
"Yep!"
"...That's it?"
"I mean, unless you wanna go kill some boars or something?" Chad raised an eyebrow. "I'm all for it, but kinda figured you wouldn't be a fan."
"No, no, I'm perfectly fine with this. It's just..." Jerry shivered slightly. "Hopefully there's not too many. I'm not exactly a fan of insects and the like."
"Me neither, Jer-bear." Chad chuckled, rummaging around in his backpack and pulling a few cans of Raid. "Me neither."
He tossed one of the bug sprays to the Musician, who bobbled it a few times before catching the can. "T-thanks."
"Here, take this too."
Jerry actually managed to catch the object this time, his expression turning confused. "A lighter?"
"Yeah!" Chad moved to unlock the door. "Y'know, just in case they're a bit beefier than we expect."
"Am I supposed to just... hold the lighter up to them?"
"No, 'course not! You do this."
He held his own can up to a lighter, then gave the nozzle a quick tap. The aerosolized spray shot forward and ignited into a cone of flame. Jerry jumped back in alarm.
"HOLY--"
"Neat, right?" Chad grinned. "Spray paint's way better, but--"
"Chadwick, this is a wooden structure!" Jerry gestured emphatically toward the dilapidated shed. "Do you want to burn the entire thing to the ground?!"
"Oh yeah. Hm." Chad frowned. "Well, guess we'll just do it the old-fashioned way then."
Jerry sighed. "Should I leave my violin out here? I'd rather prefer it not get damaged..."
Squawkers had insisted that Jerry bring the instrument along, against the Musician's better judgment. But given that their entire goal here was to level Jerry up, then it only made sense to keep his instrument along with him. Just in case some skill or another relied on him playing it.
Chad finished unlocking the door, pulling it open. Dust billowed out of the door as it swung wide, sending them coughing. They were greeted with a bedroom-sized space full of gardening tools, an old lawnmower, and spiders. Lots and lots of spiders. Even better, Chad saw the telltale figures of a few scorpions scuttling back into dark corners as sunlight poured inside.
"...Well. Perhaps we should burn it to the ground, after all."
The arm wrestler couldn't help but agree.
***
The good news was that the shed was a goldmine for experience. The bad news was that there were a lot of goddamn spiders.
Their bug spray worked on some of the level-one arachnids, which was admittedly helpful. But the occasional level twos and threes proved a little more resilient. Not to mention more aggressive. It didn't take long at all for Jerry to drop his complaint about the flamethrower method and fully embrace its efficiency. Even if it left a few scorch marks.
And so, they heroically carved their way through the shed, spraying, stomping, and occasionally slapping an enterprising spider out of the air as it tried to drop on their heads. Jerry needed a moment to calm himself after that particular tactic became commonplace.
Chad called it "bonding time." Jerry called it "horrible."
But after a thorough combing of the space and a lot more cans of Raid, they emerged victorious. The shed was reclaimed, allowing Jerry to just reach level three. Chad, for his part, barely noticed the experience coming in. Not compared to what he'd been getting the previous day.
"Finally!" Chad took a deep breath of fresh air, stretching tall. He smelled of bug spray and must. "What're you gonna put points in?"
"Hmm... Dexterity, I suppose?" The guy mulled it over. His hand nervously brushed at his head and shoulders as he checked for any remaining spiders. "That would probably be best..."
A thought crossed Chad's mind. "Why not charisma?"
Jerry frowned. "Why would I put points in charisma?"
"I dunno, isn't that like the performance stat?" Chad shrugged. "My showmanship proficiency works off of charisma."
"I suppose..." Jerry said slowly. "You're not wrong. I have the same proficiency. But... would it not be better to impress crowds through my technique, rather than relying on this... rather ambiguous stat?"
"Buddy, hate to break it to you, but you're already doing that with dexterity."
"That one has concrete benefits, I would argue." The Musician said. "You can measure one's precision and finger speed fairly well. How can one possibly quantify something like charisma? By attractiveness? Friendliness? Those are both entirely subjective."
"Hey, your call Jer-bear. You do what you think's best." Chad could only shrug. "In the meantime, you should check out those skills. They're usually pretty cool."
As Jerry stared into space, Chad thought about what to do for the rest of the day. Now that they'd handled the most immediate threat of the incoming longship, he had a little bit of time to breathe. He wasn't nearly as worried about a second force like that, either. Especially now that their local defense force had the levels to pack a punch.
I guess I could go on patrol or something like some of the other guys are doing. Or maybe I should just stick around in case there's an emergency? He weighed the options in his mind. Maybe I'll ask the sheriff what he'd prefer. He's probably outta the hospital by now, if I had to guess. Hopefully the other guys are too...
A dog barked nearby, a sharp call that repeated and echoed across the wide fields. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea to check the hospital. That, or figure out if there was a Builder or a Handyman around to help build defenses for Gram Gram's and the town. Though perhaps the sheriff's department was already on that, too.
If they are, then good. I don't like all that logistics stuff anyway. I'd rather just take out threats as they pop up.
The dog continued barking, only to be joined by another set of barks. Only these were different. As strange as it seemed for this time of day, they were the all-too familiar sound of coyote barks. Lots of them. The sound set Chad's hair on end as he snapped back to the present.
How many coyotes is that?
Looking around for the source of the noise, his gaze settled on the next house over -- a rather nice building set atop a slight hill and just visible above the treeline.
Sounds like it's coming from Tom's place?
It wasn't coming from the house exactly, but rather the field it sat on. He couldn't see the exact place through the trees separating this house from Tom's though.
Chad turned toward the trees just as the barking turned into snarls and yips. The sounds of conflict echoed across the field, sending Chad's danger sense haywire.
Uh-oh.
"C'mon, Jer-bear!"
"W-where are we going?!" The guy stumbled for a moment as Chad pulled him along. In a moment they were running alongside each other, Jerry's violin case slapping against his back.
"There's trouble. I don't know what it is, but we're gonna find out."
Chad reached for the bag of rocks at his belt, gripping one in his fist. He wasn't sure if Tom was home. He could've been at the hospital or even out and about patrolling. Maybe his wife was home by herself. Whatever the case, Chad didn't care. If there was a problem, he would take care of it.
As they ran, the sounds of conflict continued. The barks he'd heard before continued incessantly, even through the snarls and yips. They grew louder and louder as the pair closed the distance, bursting through the trees in a rush.
A black and white border collie stood resolutely in the field, its hackles raised as it continued to bark. Before it prowled a group of at least a dozen coyotes, their mottled fur shifting slightly as they moved. The coyotes were quite obviously larger than usual, likely owing to the tags identifying them as level four to six. The dog, by comparison, was only level three.
Holy shit. Chad saw a couple of bite marks along the dog's sides, staining the white fur red with blood. Behind it, a group of level 1 sheep bleated in a terrified cluster. That dog's trying to take them all on by himself?
A coyote darted toward the collie to snap at it. The dog dodged out of the way and punished the maneuver with a snap of its own, eliciting a yelp from the coyote. However, a second one used the opening to nip at the dog's rear. A new trickle of blood began running down the collie's hind leg as it whirled once more, not quite able to catch the offender.
Maybe they couldn't make it past the dog. Or maybe they were just taunting it. Either way, one thing was for certain -- the little guy could use some help.
Chad hefted the rock and turned toward Jerry. Well. Guess he's getting a bit more than he bargained for, anyway.
Comments
Beeees!
Coyotes picked a fight with the wrong town!
