But for a Slime

Another hour or so later, they came upon another two adventurers fighting a monster. Joe started to step forward but stopped to consider. Need to be careful here! Don’t want to steal from them, but I don’t want to leave them if they need help.

Joe looked to Garnedell and asked, “Go?”

Garnedell looked to the two adventurers fighting the monster before calling out to them. The reply was gruff, angry, and short. Garnedell looked back at Joe and shook his head. Joe nodded before turning away from the two and walked on, a bit discomforted to leave people behind without help. He did take a moment to look carefully, and he noticed some distinct non-human aspects to the two. Remembering how the lady had reacted before, he averted his gaze quickly and moved on. Throughout the day, they saw several more and Joe soon became used to leaving the fighters alone. They walked past another two or three before they came upon a different fight. A farmer stood on his cart, desperately fighting against three of the ratfoxes surrounding his cart. Three adventurers were walking past the cart even as the ratfoxes struggled to climb the cart. The disconnect of three friends joking with one another even as they passed a farmer struggling for his life really hit Joe hard, but the farmer’s plight called to him much more than the adventurers callousness. Luckily, the beasts seemed unable to leap high enough to reach the cart, and that was the only thing saving the farmer as he darted around in the cart toppling the beasts as they tried to climb. Joe quickly began running forward and turned to Garnedell, asking once again.

“Go?”

Garnedell shouted towards the farmer, having to cry out twice before the farmer looked towards them with complete shock. It was in that moment of surprise that one of the beasts managed to climb up on the cart and the farmer returned to his desperate fight and began pushing away the beast with his pole. He shouted with crazed fear and desperation and Joe was quite certain the answer was yes. He didn’t wait for Garnedell’s response, putting on a quick burst of speed. Once he arrived near the cart, he readied his spear out and leapt up on the cart quickly. As he landed in the rear of the cart, Joe heard Garnedell shout out behind him.

“Joe! Coin… no… no coin!”

“What? I…!” Joe ignored the comment, the farmer’s startled fear driving him more than anything else at the moment. Better to ask forgiveness than watch and let him die.

Joe’s spear came down and punched through the beast even as his feet landed on the cart. His strike was true and quite easy, especially since the farmer had the ratfox’s attention and its back was facing Joe. He left the ratfox pinned to the bottom of the cart and pulled out his sword, slipping past the farmer quickly even as another ratfox scrambled up over the edge of the cart. Its head had popped up over the ledge behind the farmer and the sweep proved easy, the blade swiping through the beast, decapitating it. The blade, however, slammed into a wooden pillar next to the ratfox and embedded deeply into it. Joe tried a few tugs to pull it out, but it proved quite firm and he left the sword there before pulling out his rapier. The last ratfox seemed to struggle climbing the rear of the cart and Joe was able to take it in the face while it clung to the cart’s side completely unable to defend itself. With this one dead, he returned to the first pinned ratfox in the cart bed and finished it off with a quick thrust of his rapier.

The farmer actually hadn’t moved through the whole process and now stood in frozen shock before finally smiling and speaking gratefully to Joe, although with a bit of worry while shaking his head. Joe simply smiled, unsure how to respond but felt some relief when Garnedell stepped in to speak for him. Joe didn’t feel like staying long, so pulled out his weapons and cleaned them while the two spoke before dumping the ratfox carcass in the cart bed over the side.

Garnedell spoke for a short time before turning to Joe, “Zhoe… man say… no coin.”

“Coin?”

Garnedell cocked his head, thinking before trying again, “Man no coin.”

Joe frowned, “Man no coin?”

Garnedell nodded, his face a bit stoic and blank, “No coin.”

Joe fell into thought at that. Does he need coin? What is…

“Joe give man coin?”

Joe mimed the action, taking out some coin to give to the man and Garnedell’s face opened up at that, a soft smile gracing his lips as he quickly shook his head, “Man no coin Joe.”

Confusion remained then immediately cleared. OOoh… payment for helping… ok.

“No. No coin. Go?” Joe waved his way back down the path.

Garnedell looked at that, nodding before turning to speak to the farmer for a bit. The farmer seemed fearful for a time. The fear melted to shock then gratefulness and the farmer quickly began bowing his head while repeatedly saying a phrase or word which Joe was fairly certain was a thank you of some kind.

Joe made mental note of the sound but simply waved the farmer’s grateful cries and smiled, “No problem, man. Stay safe.”

Garnedell, of course, had no way to translate the phrase, but Joe wasn’t really bothered by it and simply waved with a happy smile before turning to walk away. Best to just leave… probably make him feel a bit more relieved? Garnedell offered a few quick phrases to the farmer. Both spoke back and forth a bit before Garnedell left the farmer and sprinted after Joe. Joe had walked slowly, making sure the farmer understood his intentions, but was feeling a bit uncomfortable to be so blunt about leaving. But it explains my intentions much more clearly than a poor mime. He sighed as is impolite behavior but given the situation felt it was the best he could do.

Joe glanced back at the farmer one last time to wave before looking over to see Garnedell running back up to his side, holding two … fruits? Oh… a … nice! Joe turned back to the farmer and smiled brightly before shouting back to the farmer.

“Thanks a lot!”

When Garnedell arrived at his side, Joe noticed that the adventurers were staring with some shock, and he realized that they had been standing almost beside the cart but ignored the man, offering no help of any kind. Anger burned in him and he looked at the adventurers staring at him, swords, shields and armor festooning their body on all sides. His lips grimaced with distaste and he finally shook his head with disdain.

“You little stains weren’t going to do anything? What are you! Worthless pieces of absolute…”

Joe’s haranguing grew in volume, anger, and disdain before he dismissed them in disgust and left them behind, muttering under his breath for another thirty minutes. It wasn’t until later that Joe realized Garnedell was unusually restrained that he looked towards him and noticed his fear. Quickly calming his heart, Joe calmed himself and recovered a gentle demeanor before clapping the kid on the shoulder and offering a relaxed smile.

“Sorry about that, kid. I’m good now!”

Garnedell glanced up at him and slowly relaxed, a faint and tenuous smile coming to his lips before firming with some relief. He nodded up at Joe and then held out the two fruits to Joe. Joe cocked a head, staring at them, uncertain of what they were. He took them both, then handed one back and then shrugged his shoulders while expressing an exaggerated look of confusion, their sign mime language for ‘I don’t understand.

Garnedell quickly smiled, taking the fruit and pealing it before miming eating it. He then handed it back to Joe and Joe shook his head, pushing it back to Garnedell and pealed his own. Garnedell smiled brightly at that.

“Zhank you, Zhoe!”

Joe smiled and nodded. He watched carefully and Garnedell took the fruit and bit a large chunk out of it. Joe imitated Garendell and felt his eyes widen at the sweet burst of flavor which quickly shifted to a deep sour bite. Joe grinned.

“Good!”

Garnedelll nodded and laughed, “Yes. Good.”

Joe quickly finished off the fruit as they walked down the trail together, soon back to their normal interactions where Joe did most of the talking with general nonsensical monologues and Garnedell listened in complete ignorance. After their fruits were done, Joe quickly learned of another minor convenience of modern life that was woefully lacking: wet wipes. Having no way to wash his hands, he grimaced to see Garnedell simply brush it off on his tunic and Joe couldn’t bring himself to do the same, turning to the grass on the side of the road where he vigorously wiped his hand. That dried his hand, but now he was left with a sticky mess and bits of grass, dirt, and twig sticking to his hands. He held it to the side for a good fifteen minutes before deciding he could continue like this, and sacrificed his other hand to the mess, rubbing both hands together enthusiastically, hoping to remove the stickiness from his hands much like one removed dried glue. It worked, very poorly. Both his hands were now sticky, but a bit less than before, and it was enough for Joe to ignore the sensation but he did make a mental note to wash at the next bit of water they found.

The rest of the journey that day until evening was a repeat of similar events. They met another five to ten adventurer groups fighting various monsters who did not wish for any help. They did see another two or three noncombatants completely unable to defend themselves and Joe and Garnedell leapt to their defense. One family was even enjoying their evening meal when they were attacked. It seemed to be a popular camping site and there were a couple adventuring groups around the family who simply laughed and seemed to enjoy watching the show, mocking the father’s struggling attempts to protect his wife and children. It was only luck that saved the family in that only one ratfox was attacking, but the man was fighting a losing battle. When Joe arrived to help, the fight ended quickly, but the other campers actually became quite upset at Joe’s intervention. Several members of the group stood and began angrily questioning Joe.

It took Joe a bit, but what he was able to piece together was that the groups had bet on the family’s success or failure and when Joe had interrupted, the one’s betting on the family surviving were claiming victory, wanting the bet. Those who had bet on the family’s death cried foul, saying Joe shouldn’t have intervened. When Joe realized what had been happening, his anger sky rocketed even more than what had happened with the poor farmer ignored by the three adventurers.

“You fuckers! You pieces of absolutely useless anal excrement scraped from the ass of a tapeworm don’t deserve to exist! You guys…”