Happy Life
Auto-translated
And you were afraid. This is the expansion for the Revenant, not for the CIS, everything is fair and quality-of-life oriented here.
Veserod carefully collected the fragments of arrows sticking out of the cracks and joints of the golem, scattered and trampled on the ground, and also collected other people's bolts.
- Sorry, buddy, - he muttered to the already dead automaton. - You shouldn't have crawled out of your hole.
Their acquaintance turned out to be short, filled with suffering and sorrow, although not without its warm moments. The way they chased each other with the golem, and how diligently it tried to find Veserod "in the house" - this is what will remain in the hunter's memory first of all.
Having collected all the debris to later take it to the landfill, he squatted down, felt and turned the stone in his hands, from which their friend was made, in order to understand what it was. "Just a stone," the hunter decided. Apparently, the golem was another creation of the mountain that spawned it in order to teach armed humans a lesson - you can't really shoot at a stone, stab it with a spear, or chop it with a sword, especially when it smears you on the ground with its club in one swing. Another question is how it ended up here, in the eastern forest? Veserod examined the surroundings in search of a clearing from which this "golem" came. Perhaps it simply fell or rolled down the mountain and could not return home, and wandered off somewhere. A sad fate, but there were no other options. Usually, a single spirit, having ended up in the territory of another, dies due to its unsuitability to foreign conditions, but this one turned out to be stronger than what the forest could offer it. It had already destroyed a considerable area, deprived the local fauna of their usual habitats, and angered the spirit of the eastern forest. Every day of delay meant an ever-increasing rage of the deity, the result of which could be completely unpredictable for these places and the town of people, as well as for all these vast lands. Spirits and gods of nature are, although entities of a different order, far from human passions, but in the matter of the integrity of their possessions, they are like a typical capricious "arrest-crazed" person, playing tricks on a neighbor.
Having finished examining the battlefield and completing his mental chain of thought, Veserod stood up, brushed off his hands, and coughed loudly to attract the attention of the fighters.
- This... - he looked at everyone. - Well done! Good hunt.
Satisfied, he nodded to himself for this speech, full of leadership, born from long training sessions with Gungnir, and stepped aside to the road, began to rummage through his pockets and bags, checking his equipment, waiting for everyone to be ready to return to the city.
Veserod carefully collected the fragments of arrows sticking out of the cracks and joints of the golem, scattered and trampled on the ground, and also collected other people's bolts.
- Sorry, buddy, - he muttered to the already dead automaton. - You shouldn't have crawled out of your hole.
Their acquaintance turned out to be short, filled with suffering and sorrow, although not without its warm moments. The way they chased each other with the golem, and how diligently it tried to find Veserod "in the house" - this is what will remain in the hunter's memory first of all.
Having collected all the debris to later take it to the landfill, he squatted down, felt and turned the stone in his hands, from which their friend was made, in order to understand what it was. "Just a stone," the hunter decided. Apparently, the golem was another creation of the mountain that spawned it in order to teach armed humans a lesson - you can't really shoot at a stone, stab it with a spear, or chop it with a sword, especially when it smears you on the ground with its club in one swing. Another question is how it ended up here, in the eastern forest? Veserod examined the surroundings in search of a clearing from which this "golem" came. Perhaps it simply fell or rolled down the mountain and could not return home, and wandered off somewhere. A sad fate, but there were no other options. Usually, a single spirit, having ended up in the territory of another, dies due to its unsuitability to foreign conditions, but this one turned out to be stronger than what the forest could offer it. It had already destroyed a considerable area, deprived the local fauna of their usual habitats, and angered the spirit of the eastern forest. Every day of delay meant an ever-increasing rage of the deity, the result of which could be completely unpredictable for these places and the town of people, as well as for all these vast lands. Spirits and gods of nature are, although entities of a different order, far from human passions, but in the matter of the integrity of their possessions, they are like a typical capricious "arrest-crazed" person, playing tricks on a neighbor.
Having finished examining the battlefield and completing his mental chain of thought, Veserod stood up, brushed off his hands, and coughed loudly to attract the attention of the fighters.
- This... - he looked at everyone. - Well done! Good hunt.
Satisfied, he nodded to himself for this speech, full of leadership, born from long training sessions with Gungnir, and stepped aside to the road, began to rummage through his pockets and bags, checking his equipment, waiting for everyone to be ready to return to the city.
My sword, my trusted ally, unphased by my aspect.
