8. The Journey
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Getting the zombies out of the ground wasn’t as much of a challenge Peak thought it would be. The rock had been worried that the tentacles, tendrils, roots, or whatever the fuck they were would be clenching onto the zombies in death, but it had been relieved to be wrong. The tree-monster thing had been wrapping up quite a few of them still beneath the earth but let go of many of them while it had been writhing around in its death throes. That meant Peak wouldn’t have to try and unwrap the unfortunate victims of what it could only assume was going to become some bizarre combination of necrophilia and tentacle porn. 

In order to get the zombies out of the ground, Peak had to move the dirt out of the way. Peak, using earth manipulation, could dig much faster than a normal human with a shovel, though it also got more difficult as Peak dug deeper, as it took more effort to make the dirt move uphill, but this still took a lot of time to accomplish. How much, Peak could not say. Peak was blind and unable to tell where the sun was, so the stone could only rely on its internal clock.

Actually,’ Peak thought, ‘how much time has passed? How long has it been since I woke up?

Peak was pretty sure it had been a day. Maybe a day and a half. 

Apparently rocks don’t need to sleep. Peak wasn’t sure why, but this was a little surprising to it. It also felt disappointed, though it wasn’t sure why. It seemed that it had once enjoyed sleeping as a human, but wasn’t certain of the exact details or why sleep was so pleasant.

While Peak was pondering the great wonder that was sleep, the rock had also been attempting to save Emmet, who had been struggling in the dirt the entire time. He let go of his sword while being pulled through the earth, the drag being too much for his grip. He had also gained some scrapes during the journey, but luckily hadn’t suffered from any broken limbs.

Many had broken bones or damaged muscles. Despite injuries that would have slowed them when they were alive, these undead still hobbled about at the same speed. Pain wasn’t an issue for the dead.

However, Peak wasn’t able to see any of this. Even if it could, it wouldn’t have been able to notice many of the injuries. The stone had very little knowledge of anatomy and the zombies weren’t acting like someone injured, so it wouldn’t have been odd for someone to miss that. The stone just unburied them and tried to get them out of the ground.

Emmeth emerged from the dirt swinging his arms, trying to pull himself out of the ground. It was making things more difficult for Peak, as it was easier to move the dirt without someone throwing it everywhere.

There you are, idiot.” Peak said upon finding Emmeth. “I was wondering when I would get the chance to see your dumb mug again. What the fuck were you thinking, attacking the root monster?

...” Emmeth did not respond. Instead, he surveyed his surroundings. The area they were in was unfamiliar. They hadn’t passed through the area earlier. 

No, no you don’t.” Peak interrupted Emmeth’s train of thought. “You don’t get to pick up where we left off as though nothing happened. You almost just got yourself killed and I want to know why.

Emmeth took a moment to reply. “If we lost the undead, we would have stood zero chance against the raiders.

If you died, you would have stood no chance against the raiders. What. Were. You. Thinking?

I was hoping that by cutting the roots, the monster would stop grabbing them.

I kept warning you that the roots were coming closer. You should have understood that they weren’t going to just stop!

You were screaming incoherently.

That was not incoherently!

...

Fine! Fine. Whatever. Prick.” Peak went back to digging up zombies. He had yet to finish.

Emmeth decided that the first thing he needed to do was regather the zombies and assess the damage done. It would be difficult, it was night, but he should be able to see their souls in the dark anyways.

So, he got to work.

[ ) ( ] [ ) ( ] [ ) ( ]

After collecting as many of the undead as he could together, Emmeth was disappointed to find that most of them had been badly injured. For most, it wasn’t enough to impede them too much, but the number that could no longer walk was still substantial. He counted that he lost 12 undead total, maybe around an eighth of his forces. 

Unfortunate.

What was more unfortunate was that Emmeth wasn’t sure which direction they should go anymore. Nighttime made it more difficult to figure out which direction the sun was in. 

However, the moon was out and on the horizon. Emmeth decided to mark that as West, and use it as a marker for now.

Time to leave.

 

Emmeth started to trudge away. 

Oi, Emmeth.” Peak called after him.

What?

You forgot me.

Follow.

No. Carry me.

... No.

Why not?

You can move yourself now. You have no need of my help.

I’m tired.

How can a rock be tired?

I don’t know,” Peak adopted a sarcastic tone, “maybe it happens when the rock moves dirt for several hours in order to kill a giant monster and get your stupid ass out of the ground after attempting to do some really idiotic shit that the rock told you not to do.

There was a long pause.

But what would I know,” Peak continued, I’m just a stupid rock that apparently never gets tired.

Emmeth internally sighed before turning around and picking up Peak. 

Thank you.” Peak said smugly.

You are welcome.” 

Once they had started their journey, Peak decided it was time to chew Emmeth out.

So, Emmeth…” Peak said, joy being hinted at in its tone, “do you feel stronger? Was this encounter with a monster everything you dreamed it would be?

Emmeth remained silent.

Ah, the good old silent treatment. It means, as always, you’re upset about something. What, did you think that fighting monsters in the woods would be a piece of cake? I’ve never fought monsters before, and even I can tell that this is some real stupid shit. What the fuck were you thinking? I mean--

I thought,” Emmeth interjected, “that crastors were not native to this area.

I- You- What?

Crastors are a type of creature that live in heavily wooded areas. They burrow inside of trees and hijack their root system. They’re well known for being vicious but stupid--

Why the fuck is it called a crastor?

Emmeth blinked. “Why wouldn’t it be?

I… I don’t know. Just seems… mundane.

Yes, so are tarrasque, and yet…

... The fuck’s a tarrasque?

Emmeth didn’t answer.

Emmeth, what the fuck is a tarrasque? The name sounds intimidating. Please, you’re scaring me.

Emmeth ignored Peak while rethinking his strategy. He had heard that fighting and defeating strong enemies was the key to evolution or rapidly improving skills; however, Emmeth was unable to harm the monster in a meaningful way. He didn’t receive any rewards for using the sword against it either.

Emmeth had only ever gained one skill for sword mastery, conceptualization. Despite intense practice from a young age with multiple weapons, those were the only skills he had earned from any weapon. Those who gain conceptualization skills are said to be talented in that area, but Emmeth had never been able to progress further, despite his hard work. 

Maybe it was time to stop using a sword and find a new weapon. Maybe something more… unorthodox. 

And then I said to her, ‘That’s a large dick you have there,’ and so she said--

Peak.

Yes?

Quiet.

Sure thing.

The two continued onwards in what some might consider to be companionable silence. Neither of the two involved would call it as such.

The mob of zombies followed behind.

[ ) ( ] [ ) ( ] [ ) ( ]

Are we there yet?” Peak called up to Emmeth from the ground. The stone had continued to annoy Emmeth along the way and Emmeth decided that Peak should be using this free time to work on developing more earth manipulation skills.

Peak, of course, knew that this was probably just because he was annoying, rather than any other reason like “practice.”

Emmeth did not respond to Peak’s question, as this was the tenth time the stone had asked in within the last hour. He was busy trying to think of what kind of weapon he should try to use. Swords were off the table, as were spears, axes, knives, maces, hammers, staves, halberds, anything with chains, (Emmeth did not want to remember the number of times he accidentally hit himself when wielding that kind of weapon) and trying to fight barehanded was an even worse idea. He had even tried using a club but even that hadn’t panned out.

Bows were something he was better at using, but it wasn’t something he was extremely proficient in, rather, he had levels [Hunting: Archery]. He was only good with one if he had time to carefully line up the shot and make his move. He couldn’t shoot an arrow while moving, and that wouldn’t help him much when fighting as part of a group. 

Emmeth, I’m bored.” Peak called over to Emmeth. “Entertain me.

Emmeth continued to not respond while he pondered the issue. Perhaps he could wield a bow. Or he could wield a farming tool, he had decent levels in that skill group. However, he doubted there was--

Emmeth stopped, shocked at his own foolishness. Why had he not tried that? It seemed obvious in hindsight, but he had been convinced of his own ineptness for so long that it was not a shock that he had never tried it. 

Peak, who had been behind Emmeth, rolled into his foot. “You’ve stopped. Does that mean we’re here?

No.” Emmeth said, as he continued walking.

... Fuck.” Peak said as he continued rolling onwards.

The mob of dead followed.

[ ) ( ] [ ) ( ] [ ) ( ]

It was born, as many modern conveniences are, of laziness.

Peak, why?

Right, I’m sorry. I forgot to ask you, do you want up?

No. Get rid of it.

But it’s so much easier this way!

Peak, you’re hindering them.

They don’t mind, now do you fellas?

The undead were unresponsive.

See? It’s all good.

...

The cause of this dilemma was Peak wanting Emmeth to serve as its carrier again. Unfortunately, Emmeth did not agree to this, so Peak had to go about creating a new solution to its issues. 

This had been helped along when the rock gained a new technique after repeatedly pressing the dirt down in front of itself.

Skill [Earth: Manipulation] has gained technique [Create Structure]

The reason such a technique was useful was because it allowed Peak to create actual structures instead of just pushing around lumps of dirt. 

The first of these solutions was the earth car. Peak attempted to mold a cart out of earth and then send it forwards by pushing it with dirt. This failed, as the wheels kept breaking over and over again, and the forest floor wasn’t exactly flat either, so it was bumpy going.

The second solution was the earth walker. For this great creation of modern science was made with four legs made of earth with a few joints for each limb. Designed to walk forwards with Peak resting on a platform in the center, this idea did not at all go according to plan. Instead, it fell over. Repeatedly. This happened for two reasons: One, Peak couldn’t focus on piloting so many limbs at once, even just having them stay in place, and two, Peak had no idea that balancing it would be so hard without the senses humans normally have. 

The third iteration was the sledge. Peak attempted to create a flat plain with rails that a zombie would drag. This failed as well, because one, the rails were made of dirt, two, there wasn’t anything the rock was able to use to attach itself to a zombie very well, and three, the zombies were not going to stay in place and let Peak work out how to create a proper harness.

While this had been going on, Emmeth had been enjoying watching Peak fail repeatedly. He viewed it as a good learning experience for Peak, as the stone was testing the limits of its skill and attempting new uses. 

Then came the stroke of genius. 

After all, the stone had been looking for an undead to carry it. Peak had been the one to specify Emmeth.

So, Peak, being the industrious rock it was, decided to pick a new zombie to hitch a ride on.

Maybe two zombies.

Okay, so it was, like, four zombies. Not a big deal. 

Peak had spent a lot of time setting it up so that the structure would partly land on the zombies, and from there, Peak could create the rest. Peak remembered seeing images of kings being carried on their thrones by people putting pieces of wood across their shoulders, so the rock decided it was time to try being royalty. It placed long poles of dirt between a few zombies, and added a place where it wouldn’t be bumped around too much in the middle. Since the zombies were in danger of dropping it, the stone added collars as well.

The throne may have been overdoing it.

Maybe the crown had been as well. 

Peak. Get down here.

I’m sorry, I can’t hear you over the sound of my genius.

Peak.

I don’t speak to those below my station.

Something about this deeply rankled Emmeth. So, he punched the platform the throne was resting on.

Now, let it be known, that just because something is made of dirt does not mean it is weak. Packed dirt can become rather strong, when put together with the right force.

Unfortunately, Peak did not do an excellent job of reinforcing its new reign as king. The throne collapsed and the era of the rocky king was over.

NOOOOOOOOOOO!” Peak shouted, buried within the remains of its throne. “WHY!? WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT!?

Emmeth turned around and continued leading the group onwards, ignoring the cries of the extremely irritating rock.

Is Peak a genius or what?
  • A Genius Votes: 20 62.5%
  • What Votes: 8 25.0%
  • I'm too stupid to tell Votes: 4 12.5%
Total voters: 32
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