How to Be an Adventurer: World of Gimmok by Damien Hanson

Author:Damien Hanson [Hanson, Damien]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-11-11T22:00:00+00:00

***

The fishing line rode around another time, straining at its own inner tendons. The half-orc grunted yet again, his muscles bulging and sweat pouring down from his forehead as he battled the beast from the deep. This was not any ordinary fish, its own tremendous strength forcing the barbarian to feel his way through, giving when it lunged rather than suffer a broken line. All hands on deck watched in surprised and tense silence.

“Grahh!” the man heaved, swearing a bit in orcish as the thing lunged again.

“Is he going to get it?” Carric whispered to Tracy, who stood, fascinated, beside him.

“I don’t know, friend Carric. I almost think it might get him!” the wild mage declared with excitement. “For sure, the beast of the sea is the more intelligent of the two!”

Yenrab heard and chuckled, almost losing his pole. A lot of angry eyes turned on the half-elves.

“Srountin Crag, you landing-loving jerks. This catch, if made, means good fortune to us all!”

The crew all murmured their angry assent. Perhaps they would have talked if they weren’t so worried about what was all on the line.

“Urrgh!” the half-orc assented, struggling to keep things in check. There was a tremendous splash out in the friendly waves of the calm and sunny lake.

“Sah. Wah,” sounded the waves themselves as they gently lapped against the hull of their trireme.

“Gharag will see you burn forever,” they whispered, making him jerk his pole in sudden surprise—just as the thing had decided to rest. Yanking hard, with muscles that could quite literally pull a ton of weight, he pulled some gigantic king of a fish, stark-white and well his twice and a half in height, onto the deck. The crew gasped.

“Well,” said the never-observant wild mage observantly, “that line should almost definitely have broken. At least, the pole is long and firm.”

One of the sailors chuckled and was cursed into silence.

“Ga!” yelled the half-orc, axeless. The thing flopped about in a gasping melee. The half-human began to wrestle in immediately.

“Ooh!” the sailors crowed, their luck perhaps increasing by the moment.

“This is getting ridiculous,” Carric stated in fear for his friend. He reached for his harmonica, holstered to his side.

“Bah, bard. It ain’t caught luck ‘less it stops fighting. Put yer toys ‘ways.”

The others murmured their assent.

Another called to him kindly, “Your friend is amazing. Weaevese will get ‘im t’rough.”

Carric did a quick thought and nodded. As one of the few gods native to this world, he was a good one to call upon for such a task.

Yenrab blasted the fish twice with his powerful fists, his biceps rising like pistons. It had slapped him once on approach, leaving a reddening welt upon his face, but otherwise he defeated it without consequence.

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