Jack loved hunting, but even he wasn't immune to fatigue. He was covered in dried mud, aside from his boots, which were covered in fresh mud. The squelching of his feet sinking into the ground, freshly softened by a fierce storm, accompanied him with every step. It served as his only companion on this walk to shelter, and it was the only companion he desired.
Normally, he would take a great deal more care to avoid making unnecessary noise, both to keep his skills well honed as well as to always be ready for potential prey. However, he was exhausted, bones aching and the last time he slept a distant memory. He was bruised and cut up in several places from maneuvering through the dense foliage, and much worse from the prey he'd been hunting. For indeed, not all of the rips, tears, cuts, and punctures could be attributed to mere fauna, deadly in their own right as they may be.
Squelch. Squelch. Squelch. He let each foot fall heavily until... Plnk! He was surprised to find his foot landing on something solid, with his eyes downcast and resting far back into a hood. He quickly realized he'd stepped on small porch, no small feat for his fatigued mind. With a relieved sigh, he threw his head back, throwing the hood from his head, and sized up his family's little cabin. It was makeshift and spartan, but home was home, all things considered. He'd have precious moments to rest alone, without his parents or brother (he made sure to leave them far behind on this expedition) to disturb him. His younger sister, Amandalyn, was barely half his age, yet he often found he could confide and relate to her best. He almost lamented that she wasn't home.. almost.
With a tired, ragged sigh, he opened the door and staggered in, removing his muddy boots and cloak as fast as his lazy stupor would allow, and mentally prepared himself to lean on the wall for support on his way to bed. There were no sounds to accompany him other than the swishing of his furs and clothes, the clop of his boots hitting the wooden floor, and his own tired breathing. He tried to focus on breathing deeply and steadily, but most importantly audibly. He didn't like giving his mind too much time to wander in silence.
But then, he heard it... a sound so feint, he thought it was a breeze at first. Then he realized it was a whispering. An intense whispering, that was becoming more and more persistent and audible by the second, until the single word it was repeating was almost clear... no, not word, but a name. Gill... Gill... Gill...
"My... name... isn't... Gill..."
Jack declared through clenched teeth, bringing one of his hands up to cradle his temples even as the other hand reached for his hunting knife. Of course, he didn't have anything in particular in mind for it, he just felt compelled to draw it. And something about a knife in his hand lended him a wicked sense of comfort.
The whispering got more and more intense, more insistent, until it felt like a knife was being driven into his temples. It got faster and faster... Gill Gill Gill...
And then Jack, his hand clasped firmly around the knife, drew it abruptly and violently with a vicious, inhuman snarl. But then, it was over. Just like that. With another tired sigh, Jack leaned against the wall, rubbing his temples some more and shaking his head, trying to slow his racing heart.
It wasn't over yet, however, as a sharp, mocking voice called from the hallway, "Gill! Is that you?"
Jack froze. He wasn't used to receiving a greeting when he returned from hunting, especially not when he was supposed to be the only one home. His eyes narrowed, and his senses went into overdrive as he distributed his weight evenly in a ready stance, holding the knife at the ready and advancing slowly and stealthily through to the back of the room. He put massive effort into evening out and controlling his breathing, trying to still his pounding heart. Well, this is new. I don't think that was a voice in my head. Seemed to come from...
His eyes widened as he came to the realization that the voice had come from down the hallway, from his sister's room. He immediately took off running down the hallway, only for things to take an unexpected turn. Not now!
He pleaded for his sanity in this moment, but it was not to be. Shadowy tendrils extended from the edges of the hallway, as the darkness seemed to come alive and take the form of many indistinct, horrible creatures. He froze for a split second, every muscle in his body going taut with extreme tension, before gritting his teeth and steeling himself for the inevitable.
With a growl, he charged into the hallway, refusing to let fear and apprehension get the better of him. He was able to enter on grounds of sheer stubborn will and anger, but now that he was there, the situation quickly spiraled out of his control. The shadows rose up and intensified, swallowing him whole as he lashed out at everything around him with his knife, free hand, feet, elbows, knees, and even his forehead. He was a wild flurry of desperation, but it was for naught. The shadows wrapped around him, the tendrils forming hands and claws and maws lined the wicked teeth, all tearing into him and dragging across his skin. They grabbed at him and attempted to drag him down, but his attacks, while they were ultimately useless, still did the job of dissipating them. Occasionally he also came into contact with the solid walls, attacking them without hesitation, which served as an anchor for him to push through with. The knowledge that there was something solid that he could actually hit was invaluable. Soon, however, his whirling mass of knife edge and limbs saw a light at the end of the tunnel.
With shadows mauling and tearing into him, he rushed towards the light, which amounted to a small vertical crack, with as much reckless abandon as he could muster. He came crashing into it with a ferocious crack, and just like that, he was on the other side of a door, the shadows nipping at his heels.
There was no time for a reprieve, as he was then immediately thrust into the arms of yet another fierce looking antagonist. He had no time to process anything, only that he had emerged suddenly into his sister's room, only for some dark shadowy beast, indistinct in shape, glowing red eyes, long talons, serrated teeth, and bleeding shadowy tendrils to grab him. All of his instincts robbed him of conscious thought, as his knife already traveled for the beast's throat as he uppercut it in the jaw with his free hand in an attempt to fend off its bite. It delayed ripping into him with its claws as it attempted to stop the knife, grabbing Jack's knife hand by the wrist, and a fierce wrestling match began.
In desperation and insanity, it quickly became apparent that Jack was the stronger of the two, as he kneed the creature in the gut and brought the knife down towards its neck. It was, however, quick enough to deflect the knife edge with its arm, spilling shadowy blood across Jack and over the room as the blade bit into its arms. There was a piercing screech as he grabbed the creature by the throat and abruptly stabbed it through the heart, a wicked smile coming to his lips as he realized that he had won. He had killed one of his tormentors! Finally! Vengeance!
But then there was a thunderous boom, as all light was suddenly devoured, leaving him clinging to the creature in its death throws as it struggled for its life. Then the abrupt sound of torrential, extremely heavy, rain on the roof. This confused Jack, as his mind reeled with all the sudden events that had transpired.
His confusion didn't last long, as lightning strike and another thunderous boom lit up the room for a split second, illuminating Jack's worst nightmare...
The blood that he was now covered in, and now stained the room, was his sister's. And the creature he had been fighting was... No... No. No! Nonono NO!
"Amandalyn?!"
He was dumbstruck as the chestnut eyes of his sister stared wide eyed up at him, the flash of lightning leaving a permanent imprint of her on his mind. Her dark hair in a mess, blood on her face, arms, and clothes, her fair skin so pale it almost glowed. What struck him the most, however, were the tears that had welled up in her eyes. He attempted to remove the knife from her heart, as if he could somehow take back what had happened by removing it, but she clung to his wrist, and she was pulled closer to him. She reached up, cradling his face as she attempted to reach his ear. She was barely able to reach standing on her tiptoes, as he leaned down to make it easier for her. She whispered the words, "I lie beyond the sea." And then suddenly all was black after another thunderous boom and blinding flash.
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When next he was aware of his surroundings, he immediately sat bolt upright, lashing out with his knife and letting out another vicious growl. It took him a moment to come back to reality, and realize slowly where he was and that it had been a nightmare. His knife was clean, and he was sleeping in the back of a wagon, alone.
He sighed, rubbing his temples as he remembered where he was and what he was doing. The rest of the contents of the wagon were scattered about, as if the path they traveled had been particularly bumpy. But he knew better. It had been his troubled sleep which had led to this. It was raining and thundering hard, but that was normally only enough to give him more mild nightmares.
He dragged himself to the front of the wagon and drew back the cover discreetly to watch the drivers. One of them had apparently tried to wake him up, judging by the bruises and bandages they were sporting. He stifled a chuckle of pride and glee, but quickly sobered. He reached down as far as he could, trying not to catch their attention, and grabbed his pack. He just barely managed to drag it to him, able to reach it mainly with his finger tips, and was back in the back of the wagon before either of them noticed.
Once he was sure all was ready, he braced himself for making his disappearance. He was thankful they had brought him this far, but storm or no, he needed to get his sister and move on. These travelers would all likely be ambushed soon. As soon as the storm ended, their window would be closed.
At the first thunderous boom and flash of light, he jumped out of the back of the wagon, bending his knees as he impacted the ground and rolling, so as to reduce noise and impact, as well as get out of the way of the wagon following behind. The sound of his splashing in the mud was covered by the thunder, and the sudden flash impaired any watcher's night vision.
Now covered in mud and drenched, he began stalking the outskirts of the caravan, checking each wagon one by one for his sister, taking great care to remain undetected. The sentries made a valiant effort in the storm, but it was all for naught. It was child's play for Jack to sneak around them, blinded and deafened as they were by the storm.
He eventually found his sister, curled tightly under her blanket, resting against the wagon wall, eyes wide open and hair in a mess. She obviously couldn't find rest in the storm, and he smiled wickedly as he sneaked around the side of the wagon to get behind her and put a sudden hand over her mouth to muffle her being startled. He was rewarded by her nearly jumping out of her skin, causing his wicked smile to grow as she realized it was him. Her eyes asked the silent question, Is it time?
He nodded, and waited for her to get ready as she threw a cloak around herself and threw on her pack. He then hoisted her out of the wagon, and with him leading, they outpaced the snail paced caravan without being detected.
They didn't talk much on the rest of their journey, the storm making it so that they would have had to shout to even be heard, and even then their words would be indistinct and garbled. Not to mention that they had to move quickly now, as the relative peace of the wilderness would quickly change as the storm ended, everything which had taken shelter coming back with a ravenous hunger. Not to mention that the trail which had been painstakingly cleared for the caravan wagons would quickly become overgrown again, making travel with the wagons nigh impossible.
It seemed to take ages until they got close to their destination, Jack carrying his little sister on his back most of the way, as the water levels rose past his waist in much of the area they had to traverse. By this point, it had become very obvious to him that anyone who tried to stay with the slow moving wagons, which were undoubtedly getting bogged down and stuck repeatedly, would die. Not that he lamented it, however, as they would be useful in keeping the attention of any monsters in the area.
Jack was extremely alarmed when the torrential rain, coming down by the gallons, abruptly stopped. He didn't like the prospect of wandering the wilderness on his own without a storm to cover him. But, his sister tugged on his cloak as he took a more ready stance, immediately preparing for all Hell to break loose, and pointed up. He hadn't seen something quite so fascinating and awesome in a long time. The storm was still raging, but some sort of invisible dome was keeping the worst of it out, the odd patterns of rain hitting and cascading down the sides.
Determined to get a better idea of his surroundings, he began looking for a sizable tree, which he found and scaled with quite a bit of effort, his fatigued body complaining and the weight of his sister not making it any easier. But she should see this too. He got as close to the top as he could without risking any branches that were too thin to bare the combined weight of himself and his sister.
Upon looking out into the distance, he remained silent, respecting his sister's awe. Sprawled out before them was a massive coalition encampment, spanning far into the horizon with structures of various shapes and sizes, and also creatures and races of varied shapes and sizes, some of them so huge, Jack and Amandalyn couldn't see past them. As a massive bolt of lightning lit up the far sky, Jack let out an extremely impressed whistle, as the mountains which cradled them around the ocean were immediately visible in the distance, if only for a split second, impossibly large. Thy were so vast, even though Jack knew he could walk for many months if not years and still not reach them, that they could be confused with the skyline. His sister let out a pleased laugh, before Jack pretended to let his fingers slip off the branch, temporarily giving her the sensation of falling. She immediately squealed in terror, much to his amusement. He quickly reestablished his grip on the relatively dry branch, and laughed. She punched him in the shoulder, as they made their way down the tree, Jack picking his path carefully.
Normally reckless, he was forced to go much more slowly to accommodate for his fatigue, the extra weight, the slight dampness, as well as the looming threat that if he fell from a great height, he or is his sister could be critically injured, which would mean death in this world. He was so intent on climbing down carefully, in fact, that he failed to notice the sudden intake of breath, sudden tightening of grip, and quickened heart rate of his sister.
It did not occur to him at all, in fact, until his feet landed on solid (though muddy) ground. By then, of course, it was a little late, as he quickly took stock of his surroundings and his sister's shocked face, frozen in horror as she pointed into the surrounding foliage. Drawing his hunting knife and throwing knife, Jack lowered himself into a ready stance, preparing for the attack of a wild beast of some sort.
He was thankful his sister hadn't screamed, whether she was too terrified for it or had had the good sense to read the situation. Jack was unable to detect whatever it was, though he had no doubt it was there. If she had screamed and alerted it that it's stalking was futile, there was every chance it would have decided to strike early, and throw caution to the wind. Successful predators avoided injury, for winning with an injury was still a loss if it meant you were too weak to hunt or defend yourself. Especially if infection or disease set in, which meant certain death.
"How many?" Jack inquired as quietly as he could. "Speak up, I can't hear you."
"O-on-one... I think..." She mumbled slightly louder.
"You think?" He teased with a wicked half smile and slight chuckle.
"Why are you laughing?!" She demanded, obviously flustered.
With a glint in his pitch black eyes, he responded, "Because I can't fight with you on my back very well, so you're going to have to make a break for it. If there's more than one..."
She gulped in response, but he offered nothing but a chuckle for comfort. "Hey, Little Firefinch?"
"Yeah?"
"You like this weather?"
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"Oh come on, indulge me."
"Only if you win!"
"No promises. Run fast." Jack said soberly, his smile fading and his eyes narrowing in intense concentration. Then, suddenly, he shouted as loud as he could, "NOOOOWWWWWWWW!" And threw his sister backwards, propelling her at a sprint in the opposite direction as he charged into the shadows.
He heard the intense and feral growl of a wild beast, which his mind quickly filtered into an echo of roars, coming to a deafening crescendo in his ears. The splash of his feet in the water as he charged forward was lost in it, the sound of the roaring thunder now rising as well, the flash of lightning illuminating a horde of pulsating maws, claws, and everything in between, shadowy tendrils curling off of them as his mind filtered reality from his grasp.
He growled back as fiercely as he could muster, conscious that he wasn't seeing what was truly there in reality, and so moving and attacking like a madman, for he was a madman. The whirling mass of tooth and claw abruptly scattered in all directions, quickly surrounding Jack and closing in on him.
He feinted a jump forward, but abruptly dropped low to the ground, sliding feet first under the roiling mass of shadowy violence, plunging his knives as deeply into it as they would go, a predatory smile gracing his lips at the satisfying give of flesh, then the wrenching drag of the bite of the blades dragging across something living, and the smell and feel of blood splashing across his face brought all of his muscles and senses to their most heightened state.
Of course, the monster, whatever it was, lashed out with all of it's claws, quickly recovering as it brought its shadowy mass to bare over Jack. Its claws slashed wildly as it sought to tear him to pieces and dislodge him from its underside. It let out a high, piercing screech, and began to roll viciously in an attempt to reach Jack, who was by now bleeding heavily from the myriad of cuts acquired across his torso, his shirt in shredded tatters.
Jack shifted his weight to the side with all his might, and moved his elbow to shield his face as one of the creature's many sets of jaws came for his throat, clamping down hard on his arm. He let out a growl of pain, seeking to keep it off balance by keeping the roll going, driving into it with the knife in his free hand over and over again, using his knees to contest its hind legs for control. He made sure to bite it back as hard as he could at the slightest given opportunity, just to make himself feel better.
Seconds crawled by like eternities as he and the beast rolled and wrestled in the mud, the creature having a large advantage in strength and speed, but Jack possessing superior positioning, making it difficult for it to get at any of his vital areas. However, he was rapidly getting weaker as the dizziness from so much rolling and twisting began to set in, the blood-loss not helping, and the excruciating pain beginning to bother even his masochistic side. It was clear that if he did not finish it off within seconds, he would be killed. And yet, his knives were not long enough to find its heart through its thick hide and muscle, and he was too busy protecting his own throat to get at its throat in return.
In a final, desperate attempt, he allowed himself to come to sudden stop, the creature's momentum still sliding them in the mud for several feet, then immediately capitalized on the creature's mistakes of attempting to steady itself with a paw. He drove his throwing knife as deeply into it as he could, causing the creature to recoil in pain, shock, and rage. He needed no further opportunity. As it reared its head back and attempted to rip away its paw, he lunged for its throat, gripping it in a tight headlock and swinging around on its back as he drove his hunting knife in again and again, through its throat, eyes, and whatever else he could get to, not able to distinctly make out any features through his now blood and mud covered eyes.
The beast roared, and began bucking and rolling like a possessed thing, attempting to throw him off and crush him. But he held on with the strength of desperation, even cutting himself several times in the chaos as he desperately tried to mortally wound it.
However, he couldn't hold on for long, and he lost his grip as its fur slipped through his blood and mud soaked fingers. It wasted no time in attempting to reassert itself and rip out Jack's throat, capitalizing on the fact that Jack had lost his knife, and was too weak to defend himself even if he hadn't.
And yet, as his vision became to blurry, and his eyes stung too strongly for him to see, the expected death never came. He felt blood fall all over his face, and then the dead weight of whatever the creature was falling on him, driving what little breath he could muster from his lungs as one last form of spite.
But then, the weight was lifted off of him, and he was dimly aware of a sizable thnk as something large impacted the mud several feet away. Great. Now something bigger is going to eat me... his slow mind managed to put together as his last cohesive thought, as the red tinged humanoid outline of an absolutely giant thing with sword arms came into his view. It had its head cocked slightly to the side, whatever it was, and he was dimly aware of muffled laughter. But it was as if he was hearing it from far away, and it was drifting even further away as he mercifully drifted into unconsciousness.
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The next time he found consciousness, he was in a great deal of pain. He hurt all over his body, and his head felt as if it was going to explode at any minute. Every breath was ragged, and he felt as if every one was breaking a bone. His throat and mouth were dry, his lips chapped, and he could distinctly taste the remains of blood on his tongue, as if he had swallowed a gallon of it.
Some may accuse Jack of being bloodthirsty, but he didn't think it tasted good, and it always left his mouth feeling dry and weird. Maybe not to this degree, but still, even murderous psychopaths could have standards.
He could feel a cough coming on, and tried desperately to avoid it. The anticipation and the build up were absolute torture, as a small, delicate hand gripped his hand. He knew it was Amandalyn's without opening his eyes, and he suspected even if he did open his eyes, he would only see the underside of bandages. He couldn't help but tearing his eyes open as the pressure and the pain of the incoming cough became too much to bear, the sheer pain of it causing his entire body to go rigid and attempt to jerk and curl up from the pain, though strong restraints kept him from doing so. He squeezed Amandalyn's hand much harder than he would have if he were consciously aware, the coughs wracking through every single part of his body, as if every bone were breaking at once, and his skin was splitting open. Especially his head. He didn't think his skull and brain could take much more, before whatever caretakers who were responsible for healing him came into the room. He was only aware of their presence because he felt their hands on him, trying to relax and restrain him while they attempted to force a sedative down his throat. However, his body rejected it, as he wretched and cough some more, none of the mystery liquid going down.
He began to yell and roar in pain, as his entire body attempted to double over against his will again, his stomach turning as if it was going to explode, and he wretched helplessly as he threw up the meager contents of his stomach, mostly the blood gore which had found its way down his throat in the fight against the unknown monster.
Soon, he was unconscious again.
When next he awoke, he tried to open his eyes immediately, and took much more careful, slower breathes. The bandage was thinner this time, or maybe his mind was freer to notice, but whatever the case, he noticed his sister through the thin sheet, sleeping next to his bed....
He has to take a few moments to reabsorb that fact. BED?!
He suppressed a surprised inhale, as looked around the room and took stock, careful not to disturb his sister. There was a small team of what he assumed to be healers, also fast asleep, settled in various places all around the room. Some of them had fallen to exhaustion in the middle of something, apparent by several odd positions. Some of them had apparently fallen asleep on watch, fast asleep in what had probably been alert positions. Others were sleeping on the floor with proper cushions, apparently on break.
He nearly jumped out of his skin as a low, very very deep voice rumbled from directly behind him, "So, you're not dead after all."
He was surprised, and almost went into another fit, when two hands came down on his head, which he had been attempting to jerk around and get a look at the surprise intruder, and forced it back to the cushion. He let out a startled gasp despite himself, surprised to find that there was one more person in the room he hadn't noticed.
He saw an upside down set of eyes looking down over him, a deep and intense shade of violet. He instantly zeroed in on the eyes, barely considering the dark hair and naturally tan skin, as it was lost on him. He was aware mainly of the fact that she was an attractive young woman, roughly his age, glaring into his eyes as if he was a failed experiment, and with both hands on his head as if she was ready to squash it at any moment.
He decided there were worse ways to die, as he squinted his eyes to see better through his bandage, and observed in a hoarse and croaking whisper of a voice, "Your eyes are purple. That's not normal." He managed a provoking half grin, before fatigue made him drop it, exhausted again from the effort of those few words.
Her left eye twitched, and her glare intensified. She began speaking some gibberish language which he couldn't make sense of, but it sounded good. Listening to it made him relax, and he had just enough time to give her a dumbfounded look, as if to say, The Hell are you saying? She responded by intensifying her glare, which by now he could feel was actually radiating power, the force of it making his skin prickle.
While he could not really understand any of the words, they left him with a strong compulsion to shut up, relax, stay calm, and oddly enough something as specific as, "Don't mock me, or I'll kill you". He was a tad bit confused about that last part, but it made him laugh, which hurt.
Then, a large hand gripped the girl's shoulder, and she exited Jack's field of vision. Then, the deep, masculine voice from earlier boomed, "I'm impressed. You did well to make it here alive, and even better to get your sister here unmolested. Although, you made keeping you alive extremely difficult. You did not respond to most healing magic or mental probing. But... you seem to be made of stern stuff. I won't say you're lucky, you're not. But you're luckier than most to be alive, and of use. We'll talk more when your wounds have made a sufficient enough recovery. Until then, don't die. We used a lot of resources to keep you from kicking the bucket. We are taking bets on whether or not you live, Tracker Jack."
His lips curled into a half cocked smile, wondering if it was the girl's voice that was so deep and masculine in his tired mind. Soon, however, he was asleep with his sister's hand in his, an anchor to the world as his unconscious mind wrestled with itself. He probably wouldn't remember most of that encounter, but he couldn't help but get the feeling that those purple eyes were familiar...
He lost track of how long it was before he made a recovery, the doctors and healers taking good care of him. He took advantage of his position at every opportunity for his own amusement, much to the chagrin of whoever was assigned to be his caretaker. They were apparently under orders from the deep voice, which he now only barely remembered, to keep him alive and healthy. Of course, once he could move again, it wasn't long before he made a more or less full recovery. However, being bed ridden for so long had left him weaker, and he was surprised to find that his sister had been put to work. He saw her less and less, and by the end of his ordeal, he had no idea where she had been sent. He was annoyed by that fact, but it was to be expected.
He had made it into the Coalition Community, in one piece, and they deemed him useful enough to keep alive. Already worth ditching the rest of my family!
He assumed that they also had found a use for his sister, although he would certainly have something to say about that once he got his strength back. If he wasn't satisfied with her lot, then someone was going to die. He came to this resolution easily and with almost a tired, lazy acceptance. As if killing could be easy for him.
With some acting and sneaking about, he was able to hide the degree of his recovery from his caretakers. He used the knowledge that their mental probes weren't very effective on him, so helpfully supplied by the big man, to assume that they wouldn't be able to detect his recovery through non physical means. And so, stealing from his bed, changing into some of his clothes, retrieving his pack, and sneaking out of the tent had been easy. Unfortunately, he hadn't been permitted to wander or explore very far outside, as he had typically been constrained to only the most basic of exercises and limited time to stay in shape and breathe fresh air. So, he quickly found himself wandering aimlessly around, hopelessly lost in the surprisingly large community, simply unable to comprehend how such a large gathering of people were able to sustain and protect themselves. Or course, he soon found that there was much more than just people here, as many large behemoths crossed his path. There were also quite a few monstrosities in the skies, scouting and wandering around. He would have to be careful in the future, but for now he was free of worry. The alarm shouldn't be raised for quite some time yet.
He put his hands casually in his pockets, and whistled a catchy tune as he slowly learned to navigate his new surroundings, though still favoring his right arm, which he only dimly remembered using as a shield for his throat in his fight. He still actually had several bandages on under his clothes, but he wasn't worried about such things. He just wanted to have some fun.
After several hours of taking in his new setting with wide eyed wonder, taking several opportunities to steal foods which he had never had the pleasure of laying eyes on before, he generally had a great time. Then, of course, it was ruined when he walked into what seemed to be a small community R&R spot, only for an absolutely giant of man, absolutely dwarfing Jack in both height and thickness, to roughly grab him by the shoulder and force him into a different direction. He briefly contemplated resisting, but knew by the strength of the man's grip, as well as the look in his eyes that such a move would be nothing less than suicidal. So, with a resigned sigh, he took up his whistling again and was led along into the unknown.
They'd walked for a long while before stopping before a medical tent, Jack at first assuming that he'd be thrown back into the infirmary, and sighing miserably at the prospect. He looked at the giant man with resentment, taking in the light brown hair, stupendous beard, and light brown eyes with fiery resentment. He was about to protest, when the man pointed at the infirmary as a tent flap was thrown aside. Jack was surprised to get a brief glimpse of his sister inside, in deep concentration, presumably being taught the ways of the healers. This cut off any remark he had been about to unload, and Jack sighed again, this time out of contentment.
"Alright. What do you want, uh..." He trailed off, not sure what to call the huge man.
"Call me Sid. And before you ask, I'm a half giant. What I want is a complicated question. Walk with me." Without waiting for Jack to respond or even agree, the giant, Sid, turned Jack around by his shoulder and once more marched off with him.
Jack, guessing questions would be answered later, once more submitted to being led. This time, however, the destination didn't even draw out a hint of complaint from Jack, as he was led to the edge of what appeared to be a small, roughly constructed fight pit. "Stay here. Ask one of the workers for food or water if you need it. Watch the fights. Wait for future instruction. Choose wisely."
With that, Sid turned to leave. But Jack reached up to grab his arm and get his attention, wanting to ask one last question. "Why?"
The giant at first seemed to be ready dismiss the question as merely a question of his orders, but then realized by the look on Jack's face that he'd meant something far more than that. Jack was asking why go through the trouble of saving him. The giant smiled and laughed heartily. "You're weak, frail, and stupid! I doubt you're going to live long. But you've got guts, even if I have to show 'em to you one day. And... you're resourceful, deadly, and extremely stealthy. You fly under the radar very well, and we're going to need that."
"What do you mean by 'we'? There's no way your entire army needs me." Jack accused, a natural skeptic and not used to praise.
The giant blinked, as if Jack had just poked him in the nose. Then, he coolly responded, "For a scouting team, of course. An army needs eyes, son. Especially with the gods themselves baring down on us. My team will be just one of many, and I found you first. Consider me a talent scout. You will be joined by the other members at some point. Try not to die."
With that, he left Jack to his own devices, presumably to find more "talent". He sighed, pondering what he had meant by that last remark, and found a comfortable place to sit and spectate the fights in the pit. He wore a contented smile on his face for a few moments, remembering his sister in that infirmary, before remembering he'd still had one question. Had he won that fight against the thing that attacked him? He didn't remember for sure, and he also wanted to know exactly what it was. But how could he ask without alerting them to his condition? Something about the thought of being revealed as a mental case gave him the feeling that he would be deemed more of handicap than an asset, a danger to his fellows, even. So, his content smile gone, he was left to wonder with the sound of fighting to pass the time, presumably waiting for other recruits.
He did not catch the intense look of concern Sid cast his way, before disappearing into the community.