Devil's Blessing

[Wex]

This is surprisingly well written.
It keeps me wanting more.
Don't stop now man!

[Cheshyr]

Our attackers were not subtle, so we chose to take that role. There were only two of us, with a knife and a pistol. For all we knew, we were up against some glitterworld insanity. The fight needed to go down on our terms. Shacks of wood don't provide great cover, but we'd build six of them at this point, and their irregularities offered excellent vantages for spying anyone who might approach. It was ten minutes of crouching and in shuffling between vantage points before someone appeared.

They must have split up. A single raider with a pistol ran towards the shacks, hunched over to reduce exposure. Camino started taking shots from around the corner almost immediately.

"Fall back," I whispered. "We'll use the buildings ambush there.  There could be a sniper out there. Lure them in here, and break line of sight."

Camino ignored me, shots firing at a faster rate. I doubted she was even aiming. I slunk back. Aura had mentioned three people in the party.

I spotted their second attacker flanking us, with some sort of large pistol. Camino had made herself a target, so I moved into the shadows on an alley and watched. He had no line of sight on her, and moved to remedy the situation. His footsteps carried him past me without slowing. My feet whispered behind his, and I dropped him in a strike.

My partner had forgotten all hints of subtlety, and was rattling off rounds at an astounding rate. Nothing indicated she was hitting anything.  Her opponent had taken cover behind another of our buildings, which which was fine by me. I could get behind him easier this way. A quick burst of speed, and I cut him down as well.

No hunger. No rage. I was back to normal at least.

My brief introspection was shattered by an explosion by the kitchen, and chunks of wood, marble, and shrapnel dancing away from a gaping hole in the building. 

The third one! Damnit.

We arrived to see her disappear back into the forest, fleeing. There was no catching her.

Our victory was short-lived. Aura had been hiding in that building.  Her body lay tangled in the remains of the kitchen stove. Among the debris, packets of glowing red lay scattered. My false wall had also come down in the blast.

Camino's surveyed the damage, her face flashing through sorrow, astonishment, anger. The pistol jerked towards me, then lowered. She looked at me and shook her head.

"So when do I kill you?" she muttered at me.

"What?"  I expressed, dazed and bewildered.

"You're on Luciferium, aren't you?  That's why you went crazy yesterday. It kills you, after it makes you kill your friends."

I was confused. "All drugs have side effects. I'll manage the withdrawal before I run out."

She exploded with fury. "Withdrawals kill you! You will die! You have no choice, " she seethed.

I was dumbstruck.

(Click. Clatter. Kerchunk) The pistol was reloaded.

"Stay away from me. You're a monster waiting to happen," Camino threw at me as she walked away. Any goodwill I had established was gone.

I was left to clean up the mess and bury the body.

[Cheshyr]

sorry guys.  work is insane right now.  next update on friday.

[Barazen]

AAAAARGH! A CLIFFHANGER?! NOOOOO!

(Good work though! Keep them at your own pace don't feel a need to rush)

[Cheshyr]

Ended up onsite for CE/UL testing for the past few days (it passed on the first try!).  Updates to resume shortly.  I haven't forgotten.  :-)

[Cheshyr]

The silence was therapeutic; the work wonderfully mindless. Burying bodies and rebuilding walls monopolized the next day, while ponderings of my own mortality scattered my mind.

It all made sense now.  The secrecy, the coyness, the glint in his eye when he offered it to me. He knew he was offering me Dionysius' throne. If I had known, would I still have tried it later?

Of course not. Not without some means to acquire or manufacture it, and likely not even then.

I fingered one of the pouches containing a pill. So much potential in there, and so much risk. I was here now, and I had no plans to succumb to some bullshit glitterworld drug.

I had 398 left. I needed 3 per season, if the Fury was an indication of withdrawal. 33 years. That was not an insignificant amount of time.  Chances are, I wouldn't live long enough to run out.  That matter settled, I returned to the mundane daily matters of survival, and pursuing a dream.

The next few weeks were remarkably quiet. Crops grew, harvests were gathered. Camino spent most of her time hunting, while I expanded our collection of shacks, laid down roads, and continued studying the various local examples of stonework. 

Late one evening, a group of traders approached through the detrius of autumn leaves and decaying plants. There were many of them, heavily armed and lightly armored. They claimed to be from one of the regional factions, but the name escaped my mind as soon as I heard it.

The muffalo sporting the saddlebags grunted and chuffed as I perused their stock. I noted the prices, and how we couldn't afford anything, but kept my expression optimistic. I had thought 200 silver would be sufficient, but apparently that was pocket change to a trade caravan.

Camino was standing in an alley, hands near her pistol. I was glad to have her standing guard. The caravan might assume there were more unseen guards elsewhere. However, her eyes kept flashing towards the livestock tethered to the back of the caravan. It took me a few minutes of subtly glancing at her to see what had attracted her attention before I realized it was the Red Foxes. 

Oh my god. She wanted a puppy.

Negotiations were simple. We had an excess of food; far more than two people would eat in year, and the weather in this region allowed year-round crops. A few bushels of rice later, we were the owners of Swampy and Venus, male and female Red Fox puppies.

Camino's expression was the closest I'd seen to gratitude since we'd met, but she still refused to speak to me as she left with Swampy. Hopefully they'd be good company for each other.

[Element4ry]

This is very exciting story! You are doing fantastic work writing it. I was anticipating the next part, when you posted it right in time and made my day in the last minutes of it Keep going, I'll wait for the next part.

[Facepunch]

Best story I've seen on Rimworld so far. Genuinely thought you were an author for a while, what with such a well-written account of your game in Rimworld. Looking forward to the next entry.

[Barazen]

You continue to hook me my friend, May your game go well  into the future my friend!

[Cheshyr]

The bullet holes in my abdomen and shoulder mocked my prior optimism. Three weeks was significantly less than 33 years. I glanced under my hand again, and winced. Yup, that was organ blood. This was not good. I rested my head against the stone wall and reflected.

---

The time since the puppies arrived had been downright pleasant. Neither of us could train them well, but it didn't stop us from trying. Venus was particularly willful, and there were many times she would look me in the eye, ignore my command, and run off to hunt rodents. She came back though, so there was that.

My research and documentation on the local stonework came to an end. Drawings, samples, descriptions of the techniques I'd found for cutting and polishing bricks. I would feel more comfortable with stone buildings. For that matter, I'd feel more comfortable with modern clothing instead of tribal garb, so that became my next project.

Camino had never been happier, as far as I could tell. She spent every day she could out hunting with Swampy, and required far less medical attention after hunting trips than she normally did.

The raiders crept into town while I slept.

Camino was returning late from her hunting trip, and her gunfire in the streets brought me awake. Seriously? Were we that much of a target, or was this normal for settlements and I was unaware?

A fluttering by my door was too quiet to be my ally, so I slipped out behind them and got to work. The corpse carried a shotgun, and I claimed it as my own. I heard sloppy impacts between liquid and concrete, and was thankful that Camino's aim had improved. I moved to the corner, and saw two more corpses in the street. 3 down.

I noticed the 4th raider too late, and a spray of bullets tore into the wall near me. My feet carried me around the corner at a sprint, and I was greeting by another bullet impact near my head, courtesy of Camino. She shrugged at me, then refocused on my pursuer, while I bolted for cover between two buildings.

Startled eyes, light blue in the moonlight, highlighting a teenage face, a dirty duster, and a machine pistol.  We both hesitated, then fired simultaneously. The impacts threw me to the ground, unfamiliar levels of pain making a forceful introduction. The youth was missing their face.

The gunfire in the street continued briefly before a male voice cried out in pain.  I guessed Camino won the exchange.  Her form moved to get a better view of the alley where I lay.  She made eye contact, then noted the blood pouring from my arm and stomach.  We stared at each other.  Her fingers snapped, and Swampy pranced to her heel.  She turned and walked away.  Again.

Damn that woman.

-----

Glad everyone is so engaged.  Thank you for the kind comments.  :-)

[Cheshyr]

My comrade's silhouette faded into the misty treeline. A trail of blood and cursing stalked me to the storage closet, where I searched for medical supplies. The bullet passed through my shoulder, but the bone didn't seem broken. There's no exit wound on my lower back, however, and that was very concerning. Kidney? Liver? We have a healroot crop growing, and a few basic herbal medical options, but without help and better supplies, I had maybe two or three very painful days to live.

I patched myself up as best I could, and collapsed in my bedroom. The night passed badly.

Camino was butchering alphabeaver when I eventually shuffled out into the day. Fresh meals sat in stacks in the passively cooled storage near the kitchen. I cringed; she was also an awful cook. Alphbeaver steaks. Alphabeaver stew. Alphabeaver Jerky. Alphabeaver Bacon. Alphabeaver Donburi.

I picked up some Jerky. She couldn't screw up Jerky.

The first bite proved me wrong.

Welp.

The rest of my morning was spent bathing, bandaging, and generally failing to tend my own wounds. Once Camino left on her perpetual daily hunting trip, I packed up some tools and food, and slowly made my way to the rocky hills north of our settlement. 

The late autumn air bit my face and cooled my soreness. Structure is safety, but wilderness is freedom, and I fought the urge to romp through dead leaves and dwindling underbrush. It was peaceful, almost meditative, nursing my way towards the infant limestone mountain. Nostalgia for home overwhelmed me briefly, and I realized I would not be buried in my ancestral tomb. My eyes wandered to suitable locations for my own grave.

No. Not yet.

I refocused, and trudged on. Eventually my destination exposed itself; a broken rock face concealed from plain sight, shrouded in vines and shrubs. My pack fell to my feet, and I unslung the pickaxe. The first impact ripped at my wounds, and I convulsed in agony. This was a bad idea, but I wasn't leaving a fortune in Luciferium in the hands of Camino. I rummaged through the pack, and fumbled another red pill down my throat. Withdrawal wouldn't set in for another couple days, but surviving to experience withdrawal didn't seem likely. I basked in the rush of pain relief, energy, and focus.

Years later, the sun reached high noon, and my concealed stash was crafted. Limestone chunks naturally suggested a recent landslide, and the relocated sapling completed the illusion. I gathered my gear to return home and retrieve the drugs, but only made it a few steps before I succumbed to exhaustion, gravity, and darkness.

[Barazen]

Rimworld i know you h9ld no punches but YOU LET ME HAVE THIS STORY DAMNIT! dont take it from me yet

[Cheshyr]

Ocean waves slowly rolled across my eardrums, a slow cadence of anticipation and collapse that matched my breath. It held my breath. It was my breath. My eyes were closed, my face impressed in the mud. Rocks and twigs stabbed me awake, and I rolled onto my side. Echoes of the beach receded, to be replaced by the distant chaos of stomping boots, muffalo bridles, and casual chatter. Rays of the sunset fluttered through the trees, and the relative silence emboldened the noises I made while righting myself. My stomach wound was a fire of blood and puss and pain. 

Infected. Great.

I caught glimpses of the caravan plodded southward, towards our home. Hope erupted in my chest. They could have medicine. They could have a doctor. We could trade food for winter clothes.

I scrambled towards them, trying to understand the fantastical arrangement of animals and people.

Slaves. They had slaves. This was a pirate caravan.

Instinct brought me low, and I nearly cried out in pain at my own sudden movements. I couldn't approach them like this, wounded, alone, weak. I would be seen as merchandise, not a merchant. I needed to beat them home, and present a stronger image.

Fortunately, they were slow even for a caravan, and panic and adrenaline granted me a reasonable pace back to town. Camino was not to be seen, but that suited me just fine. Fresh clothes, fresh bandages, washed face, and I was ready to trade.

Oh. Right. We were broke.

The pirate caravan made camp outside town slightly after dusk. I wore the hyperweave duster, and let the hilt of the plasteel shiv display obviously at my belt.  The shotgun rest across one arm. Before me stood a dozen armed guards, half a dozen variety of animals from alpacas to chickens to a tame boomrat.

Another rat moved to the front of the crowd, this one in human form. Leather and steel and a finely crafted pistol clashed against a dirty smirk and hungry eyes.

"You interested in doing some... eheh... business?" his voice dripped with something that wasn't honey.

I shrugged, controlling my reaction to the pain it caused. "You showed up at my doorstep during the night. I guess I could glance through your scrap."

His laugh was too loud. He smiled at me, and produced a high-tech tablet of sorts. "Here's what I've got. Feel free to browse."

Fortunately, I'd seen one of these devices before, and did not make a fool of myself in front of the pirate crew. Animals and weapons made up the majority of the list. I noticed they had a small supply of real medical supplies, and was about to mark them for consideration when I saw they would not accept food for trade.

Shit.

The rest of the list was drugs, and then at the bottom was mention of the slaves.

Wait. Drugs.

I scrolled back up. They would buy Luciferium. My heart almost stopped. Was I really willing to sell it?  Maybe I was. It wouldn't do me any good if I died. But the medical supplies wouldn't do me any good without someone willing to treat me.

As if summoned, the clatter of a clip being loaded into a pistol resounded from a nearby alley, and Camino made her presence known.

"Well lookey here!" the Rat exclaimed. "This place is looking like paradise! How many more of you ladies are hanging around?"

I let my eyes flicker towards the treeline behind him, then looked him in the eyes. "Enough."

His expression wavered, and he move back to talk to the guards. Soon, a few of them had deployed to the back of the caravan, watching the trees. I continued to scan the inventory, when I had an idea.

The first slave was named Lynx. 70 year old woman, discounted for age and injuries. Supposedly a decent hunter and cook. The other was a mountain of man named Hayhouse. 34 years old.  Previously a bounty hunter. Medical skills.

Medical skills.

I did some quick math, and almost choked. Then I made up my mind.

Two guards paced me as I moved into the middle of the caravan. I crossed my arms in front of me to hide the spot of blood leaking through my shirt. The slaves were tied to a muffalo by the neck. My eyes roamed their naked bodies; taking in mud and scars, blisters and rope burns. Lynx looked of leather and sinew and grit. Her gaze was resigned but not without will.

Rat moved up behind me.  "You like what you see?"

I ignored him, and walked up to Hayhouse. Broad and tall, shadows of muscle under fat hinted at enormous strength gone soft. His smile was genuine in a way that belied his slavery. "You any good?" I asked.

He laughed, a jolly baritone. "Depends what is needed." He winked. "Nobody has complained yet."

A couple of the guards jeered and whistled.

My lips betrayed a slight smile. I tapped the tablet a few times, and handed it back to Rat. "Bring these items to the front. I'll return shortly with payment."  Before he could respond, I was out of the caravan and weaving between buildings, intentionally obscuring my trail. No reason to let him know where we stored our valuables.

Once out of sight, I leaned against the wall and breathed deep. The pain was getting worse. I wasn't going to be able to stand much longer. 

A few minutes and some extra bandaging later, I returned with a small bundle of cloth containing 3 years of my life. 36 Luciferium would buy medicine and the lives of two slaves.

Rat's eyes were still wide with greed and curiosity when I handed him the bag. One of the guards started to peer over his shoulder, but he shooed him away. I could hear him counting.

The tally finished, he nodded to me and gestured to the guards to release our purchases to us. I slid my arm around Hayhouse's waist, and leaned against him. He raised an eyebrow at me, but said nothing. More hooting followed us as we returned to the center of town, Lynx bring up the rear with the medical supplies.

As we approached my room, I turned to face them. "You're free, both of you. You can stay here if you like. Those two buildings have empty beds; help yourself. There's food in the kitchen over there, and some old tribal garb in the storehouse over there."

They gaped at me.

My gaze turned to Hayhouse.  "Your records suggests you had some medical experience. I would appreciate it if..."

The rest of my words stuttered to a stop as my strength finally gave out and I collapsed unconscious again.

#

Hayhouse, Hunter, 34 M
Childhood: Orphan
Adulthood: Bounty Hunter

Incapable of:
Crafting, cleaning

Traits:
Cold tolerant
Brawler
Volatile

Notable Skills:
Melee, Medicine

Health:
Heart, Artery blockage (minor)


Lynx, Experiment, 70 F
Childhood: Spoiled child
Adulthood: Test subject

Incapable of:
Intellectual, firefighting

Traits:
Volatile
Prosthophile

Notable Skills:
Shooting, Melee, Animals, Cooking

Health:
Left ear, Hearing loss
Right ear, Hearing loss
Torso, Bite scar
Right arm, Old gunshot, Stab scar

-----

THREE Volatile personalities?  Really, Rimworld?  Really?

[Cheshyr]

I couldn't move. I knew this was a dream, but I couldn't manipulate it, couldn't guide it to something more pleasant. Voices whispered around me, shouting voices, rumbling voices, voices like a gunshot, or maybe a door slamming. Something stabbed me. The scream wouldn't break free, so I broke.

#

I was getting tired of waking up confused. We were in my apartment; my clothes lay in the corner, and fresh bandages adorned my shoulder and stomach. A bullet slug hung from the bedpost by a chord; some sort of gruesome talisman, the deep cracks still slightly stained with my blood.

Nearby, the contents of a medical kit sat organized into piles and purposes. Hayhouse slept in a chair by the door, murmuring to himself. He was not unpleasant on the eyes, and it appeared he had saved my life.

Knowing I likely wasn't about to die released a tension in me, and I sagged back into the bed to get some rest.

#

Camino did not take well to the additional colleagues, which surprised me slightly. Why did she think we had all these buildings? She spent most of the first couple days picking fights with them whenever she could. It turned out that both Hayhouse and Lynx had very short fuses, so the three of them had the most amazing shouting matches I've ever heard.

It didn't help that Swampy obviously preferred Lynx. Camino tried everything she could to cajole Swampy back, and even made a few attempts to train Venus again, but to no avail.

Speaking of Venus, she's pregnant! She's also still completely un-trainable.

The extra farmhands have allowed us to expand our crops to include Cotton and Hops. I'm hoping to eventually sell beer, so we're not broke when the trade caravans come through.

I've been spending more time with Hayhouse. His moods can swing wildly, but he's generally very amicable, and most of the compound likes him. He's quick witted and friendly, although he can't craft or clean to save his life. Every morning, he provides fresh breakfast for us all, and his contributions to the clothing research have been incredibly valuable.  We keep the flirting to a minimum, usually.

With Lynx and Camino bringing in game, I've set about to building more community infrastructure. Everyone has their own room. There is now a dedicated butchery outside the kitchen and common room. I put in a recreation room with chess and billiards, which seems to be popular.

I daresay, we might be doing ok?  When we're not fighting, anyway.

[Cheshyr]

He wandered into town around midday, with Venus cradled in his arms.  Salt and pepper beard, well tanned tribal leathers, and the swagger of a wilder.  Hayhouse, Lynx, and I were planting crops. The strangers eyes swept over us before settling on Hayhouse, whom he approached.

"Looks like your womenfolk are getting lax in their duties. This pup got out, and a panther had their way with her," he explained as he proffered the injured red fox.  Hayhouse and I exchanged a glance, after which he took Venus and headed towards the medical room.  Both her front paws were wrapped in bandages, and one leg looked much shorter than the other.

"Thank you for bringing her back," I offered. "She's normally-"

The stranger ignored me entirely and followed Hayhouse, speaking only to him.  "I've done you a favor.  Can I get some food, and place to stay for the night?"

Hayhouse stopped and looked at me meaningfully.

Realization sunk in. "She's in charge?!" the old man exclaimed. He looked around at the town again. "Well, that explains a lot."

I held my temper in check. "We can offer some food before you go," I said with only a hint of an edge. "What brings you out this way? We don't see many travelers."

"I'm looking for my sister," he mentioned idly.  "Her name is Aura.  She was kidnapped fairly recently, and the trail led this direction."

I couldn't repress the shock from my face entirely, but he wasn't looking at me, so I don't think he noticed.  Memories of a raider attack and grenade explosions brought with them the image of her mangled form in the stonework.

Of course I remembered her. I'd buried her. Looking back at our visitor, I hoped it wasn't the same person, but the resemblance was there, around the eyes and cheeks.

"Follow me," I said. "We'll get your settled."