"Up, new blood!" A familiar voice barked through the door. "Skjor says you're coming with us today!"
Kael groaned, rubbing sleep from his eyes as he pushed himself upright. "Already? The sleep only just kicked in… Whatever, I'll be with you guys."
No answer came, just the fading footsteps of whoever had decided it was their duty to wake him. He sighed, grabbed his worn leather armor, and strapped it on. The system window flickered briefly when his hand brushed against the wolf-tooth pendant at his chest.
[Quest Activated: First Hunt – Join the Companions on a mission to clear out a bandit camp.]
A wry smirk tugged at his lips. "Guess it's time to earn my keep."
The Companions had gathered in the yard by the time he emerged, weapons strapped, armor glinting in the morning light. Skjor stood at the head of the group, arms folded, his scar catching the sunlight like a pale streak across his face. Aela leaned against the wall nearby, bow already strung. Vilkas was tightening the straps on his gauntlets while Farkas chewed on a piece of bread like this was just another lazy morning.
"There he is," Aela said, her voice sharp. "Thought you'd sleep through your first hunt?"
Kael adjusted his belt and tried to mask his nervousness with a grin. "Had to make sure the bandits got a head start. Wouldn't be fair otherwise."
Farkas snorted mid-bite. "Haha! I like him already."
"Don't get too comfortable," Vilkas muttered. "You've got to prove you can pull your own weight before we start cracking jokes."
Skjor cut the chatter with a raised hand. "Enough. We ride out now. Bandits have been raiding merchants along the White River. Jorrvaskr's name is being spat on because no one's dealt with them. That ends today."
Aela's eyes glinted dangerously. "Finally. I was getting bored."
The group set off on foot, their pace brisk. Kael fell into step beside Farkas, who didn't seem to mind the company.
"Is it always like this?" Kael asked.
"Like what?"
"Just… straight into a fight? No planning? No council meetings?"
Farkas grinned. "We're warriors, not greybeards. If someone causes trouble, we smash it out of them."
"Comforting," Kael muttered, though his heart was already racing in anticipation.
Hours later, they crested a hill overlooking a valley. Below, a bandit camp sprawled near the remains of a ruined tower. Smoke rose from their cookfire, and figures lounged about, unaware of the hunters closing in.
Skjor crouched low, eyes scanning. "Fifteen, maybe twenty. Armed, but sloppy. They won't expect us to strike." He turned to the group. "Kael, this is your first hunt. Stick close. Don't do anything stupid."
Kael nodded, though inside he could already feel the energy stirring within him, the same raw instinct he'd touched in the training yard. His fingers itched for the moment he could unleash it.
The attack came swift and brutal.
Aela's started the attack with an arrow whistling through the air, dropping the lookout before he could even think of sounding an alarm. Skjor and Vilkas charged down the hill like a storm, steel flashing. Farkas barreled in behind them, his greatsword cleaving through the first unlucky bandit who got in his way.
Kael drew his sword and followed, his heart hammering in his chest. The first bandit swung wildly at him, his rusted axe glinting. Kael's instincts screamed and he immediately reached into the system–
[Skill Activated: Feral Sprint Lv.1]
The world blurred. His body moved faster than it had any right to. He dashed past the strike and drove his blade through the bandit's side, twisted it and pulled it out. The man crumpled with a howl.
[+10 XP – Bandit Defeated.]
Kael blinked at the glowing message, then ducked as another bandit swung at his head. This time, he met the attack, steel ringing. The man snarled, pushing hard against his blade.
"Not bad for a whelp!" the bandit spat.
Kael shoved forward, twisting his blade free before slamming his fist into the man's jaw. As the bandit reeled, Kael finished him with a quick slash.
[+12 XP – Bandit Defeated.]
Around him, chaos reigned. Skjor fought like a demon, his greatsword cutting down foes two at a time. Vilkas' strikes were precise, efficient, each movement honed by years of discipline. Aela picked off targets from the edges, her arrows finding gaps in armor like she'd memorized their weak points before the battle even began.
And Farkas? He simply laughed as he fought, swinging his massive blade in wide arcs that sent men flying.
Kael caught himself grinning despite the danger. This… this feels right. I could get used to this!
But then a roar split the camp. From the tower emerged the bandit chief, a hulking Nord clad in mismatched steel armor, wielding a massive warhammer. His presence alone shifted the tide.
"Companions!" he bellowed. "I'll mount your heads on spikes!"
He swung the warhammer down, and the ground cracked. Kael barely rolled aside, the impact rattling his bones.
"Stay sharp!" Skjor shouted. "This musclehead's mine—"
"No," Vilkas interjected, blocking another strike. "Let the whelp test himself."
Kael froze, startled. "Wait, what—?"
Skjor's eyes narrowed, then he gave the faintest of nods. "Fine."
The bandit chief grinned wickedly. "Perfect. The weakest first then."
The fight was brutal.
The chief's hammer was slow, but every swing carried bone-shattering force. Kael dodged, barely keeping ahead with the speed from Feral Sprint, but every miss left a crater in the ground.
I can't block that… I'll die if I try.
He circled, waiting for an opening.
Then he saw it, a gap within the armor on the left leg. The left knee was partly exposed through the greaves.
Kael lunged, slashing at the knee. The chief roared in pain but didn't fall. Instead, he swung wildly, forcing Kael back.
"You'll need more than scratches!" the man spat.
Kael's chest heaved, sweat stinging his eyes. Think, think! If I can't overpower him… then I'll just have to outlast him.
He darted in and out, striking when he could, retreating when the hammer came down. This kind of attacks requires an immense amount of stamina and sooner or later, the chief would tire out.
Until finally, the bandit chief staggered, bleeding from a dozen shallow wounds. Kael seized the moment.
Activating his skill, he dashed forward, faster than the man could follow, and drove his sword through the chief's chest.
The hulk of a man stumbled, mouth agape, before collapsing to the dirt with a thunderous crash.
[+60 XP – Bandit Chief Defeated.]
[Level Up! Kael has reached Level 2.]
[Stat Points +5. Skill Points +2.]
[Shop Unlocked!]
[Skill Tree Unlocked!]
Silence fell over the camp as the last of the bandits either fled or lay dead. The Companions gathered around, their expressions ranging from surprise to satisfaction.
"Well," Aela said dryly, lowering her bow. "He didn't die. That's something."
Farkas clapped Kael on the back so hard he nearly fell. "You fight like a wolf already!"
Eventually, my shoulders are gonna pop off one day.
Vilkas gave a curt nod. "Not terrible. Keep training."
But it was Skjor's approval that mattered most. He regarded Kael for a long moment before a faint smile tugged at his scarred lips. "Good. You've got fire in you. You'll do well with us."
Kael tried to catch his breath, wiping blood from his blade. Despite the exhaustion, a thrill ran through him. Maybe it was as a result of the beast within him, but... he enjoyed this.