The Doomsday Reaver Chapter 8: Chapter 9 Mantle of the King

Read chapter 8 of The Doomsday Reaver by icohalliday on NovelPedia.

I followed them at a safe pace. I didn't know enough about these vandals. How were their tracking and survival skills? Was it just sabretooth tigers under their thrall, or did they have, I don't know, eagles soaring above, or snakes slithering in the underbrush? I'd underestimated them once before and paid the price. I wasn't about to do it again. I let my hunter skills guide me, leading me out of the jungle into a grassy savannah. It was beautiful here, and seemed to lose that ever-present humidity I'd come to associate with these savage lands. Instead, the air felt crisp, the skies a deep blue. Low wind rustled the savannah, a crystal clear stream flowing. And across that stream was the vandal's encampment. It wasn't huge, but it also wasn't the dotted tents of the avatar's encampments. There were wooden palisades for defence and a single entry point. I guessed there were perhaps a hundred inside. A hundred warriors, or perhaps there were women and children as well. Hardly mattered. After all, a single vandal had outmatched me. I needed to regroup. Rushing in now, wounded and without a plan, that was death. I gathered the herbs and plant fibre I needed to craft bandages and poultices, applying them immediately to get myself back up to strength. I could now craft a campfire, having unlocked it in the tech tree. It took me the better part of an hour to start the fire, trying to get the flints to spark. By the time I was done, my fingers were numb and the sky had darkened. I had taken refuge in a nearby cave. The system told me it was a safe zone. I didn't actually know what a safe zone was, but hopefully it meant mobs wouldn't attack me. Other avatars were likely a different story. As I ate the food that Raymond's camp had given me, I opened up the proficiency menu. I hadn't actually given it a proper look before, but now that I had, I saw just how dense it was. Similar to the character classes, almost all of it was locked. I clicked on spear. Rank two. Five percent increase to damage. Bow proficiency four. Fifteen percent increase to damage, chance to maim when firing within ten feet of target. I thought of how the vandal had fought. I didn't know the rules of this place. Did mobs have proficiencies too? I sighed deeply and lay on my back, watching the stars above. A camp full of those things. They clearly hated humans. They'd attacked us on sight. It made no logical sense to go there. The item that had been taken, I didn't even know what it was or what it did. All I knew was that it was powerful, important. Fuck, it was loot. I checked the combat log again and re-read the character description for the vandal, when something caused me to sit up. Tribes of Yukon… And suddenly, I knew how I was getting in. I walked right up to the gate. There was no point trying to sneak in anyway, may as well go in, head held high. Whilst I still had a head. Predictably the two vandals guarding the gate regarded me aggressively, as behind them a third larger one appeared. This one I knew if it so much as crossed his mind, would snap me like uncooked spaghetti. 'Human,' said the vandal guard, 'this is not a place for you. Go now, before you die.' 'No,' said the other guard, 'do not let him go. We need meat.' He sniffed at me. Well, that went some way to explaining why they captured humans. I raised the pelt of the sabretooth king. Despite the fact I had neither cut it off the sabretooth, nor treated it in any way, it looked pristine. Its fur was glossy and regal in death, and I could tell by their reaction that they recognised it immediately. One of the guards began braying with laughter. The bigger vandal stared at me impassively. 'This human, killed the king?' said the laughing vandal. 'I do not believe it.' 'No,' said the other vandal guard quietly, 'only the one who defeats the king may hold its pelt.' He looked to me, not with deference or respect, but cold uncertainty. 'He is the one.' 'Then,' said the larger vandal, in a deep booming voi