Meditation, Peak realized, was worse for boredom than sitting around and watching Emmeth crawl around on the floor. 

While meditation is something you can do, if nothing is considered something. 

So, Peak was going to have to get advice. 

“Emmeth? Meditation. How do I do it?” 

“What is meditation?”

Peak’s thoughts ground to a halt. “... Thank you, you’ve been a great help.”

Emmeth wasn’t sure what Peak had been bothering him about, but he had more important things to worry about. 

Needles! He could wield needles! He was so close now, he just needed to find the damn thing. 

He had carefully combed the wooden floor, searching all the corners and examining each plank for any slight discrepancies. He was beginning to think that he should just give up at this point. 

“Emmeth, I think the needle is really gone. Let’s just leave. Please,” the rock pleaded. “It’s gone for good.”

Emmeth got back to his feet and brushed off his knees. “Very well.”

“Great! So, how about you lift me up and--”

Emmeth took a seat at the table.

“No, wait, come on!” Peak moaned. “I’ve been sitting around here for so long! Let’s get going!”

“Where should we go?” Emmeth questioned. 

“We’ve gotta… Oh.” Peak said, realizing the problem.

They were still planning to chase after Emmeth’s killers. It was the only purpose Emmeth still had and Peak had no else it could talk to and nothing better to do. The problem came from the very simple fact that neither of them knew where the raiders were now.

“We should ask someone for directions.” Peak decided.

“Who should we ask, and how should we ask them?” Emmeth asked.

“Well, you could put on a cloak or something so we can sneak into town and ask for rumors at an inn or something.”

“That would not work. Town guards would have perception skills that would allow them to see that I am an undead.”

“Shit, okay. We can just sneak in during the dead of night.”

“All towns are regulated to have a twenty foot wall surrounding them, always manned at night.”

“We’ll sneak in through the sewage system.”

“Sewers, while not well guarded, are usually populated by sewage slimes, well known for eating dead creatures, including undead.”

This was getting ridiculous. “... Okay, I dig beneath the city and tunnel us in.” 

“That would probably fail as well. Wall foundations are made by professional earth mages. They would be highly resistant to any attempts you have to dig through them.”

“Goddamnit, really? How the, why the fuck are they so paranoid about this shit?”

Emmeth stared intently at the rock. “Because of people like us.”

“Oh.” Peak felt embarrassed. “Well, I guess that would make sense.”

The two lapsed into silence as Peak tried to come up with a new idea. Emmeth’s expression gave away none of his thoughts.

“... We could sneak into a caravan.” Peak suggested.

“They would detect us unless we had powerful stealth skills.”

“Well, how would they detect us?”

“I am unsure, but I am unwilling to risk our lives in such a risky endeavor.”

“That’s… Well, that’s fair, I guess.”

“Yes. Do you have any other ideas?”

“I don’t know shit, Emmeth.” said the rock that didn’t know shit, “Tell me your own brilliant ideas for where we should go.”

“I do not have any.”

“You, you don’t have any ideas?”

“I do not.”

“Then why the fuck complaining about every idea I give you?”

“I am informing you of why they are infeasible.”

“That- that’s what I’m saying, why the fuck are you doing that?”

“Because I would rather not die.” 

“Hmmm, you’re a bit late to that.” Peak commented. “Anyways, I’m done. I’m out of ideas. You figure it out.” 

Peak went quiet while Emmeth thought it over. 

“Wait… didn’t the town we go to not have any walls?”

“We did not enter a town.”

“Yeah we did, we got our zombie army there.”

“That was not a town. That was a village.”

“Potato, pahtahto. Let’s go to a village then.”

“That would be inadvisable as well. Villagers tend to be suspicious of outsiders.”

“Them being suspicious doesn’t matter. We just need a quick, ‘Hey, do you know where to find some raiders’ and then we get out. Easy.”

“That,” Emmeth grimaced, “is a terrible idea.”

“We could also grab some needles.”

“That could cause more problems.”

“Look, we’re running low on options here. And it’s not like we can stay in this farmhouse forever, someone’s bound to come by eventually.” 

“There are too many unknowns.”

“There were too many unknowns when you led a group of undead after the raiders, but I guess it’s just too much for us to be slightly suspicious.” Peak spoke sardonically.

Emmeth understood the point Peak made and agreed with it. It was hypocritical for him to speak of risks and dangers when he had so readily ignored them before.

Unfortunately for Peak, the undead was not willing to admit that and probably never would. 

“We need to find a merchant.” Emmeth decided.

“What?” 

“A merchant.” Emmeth repeated.

“No, I heard you, I just want you to explain why.”

Emmeth knew this already, but repeated himself to annoy Peak. “Merchants have information networks and often travel about. They exchange rumors and knowledge with each other. If we meet one, we will be able to purchase such information.”

“... How do we meet one and how do we ingratiate ourselves to one?” Peak 

“If we travel down a road, we might happen upon a caravan.”

“So basically, we get lucky?”

“Yes.”

“Your idea is just as stupid as mine.”

“But my idea is less likely to get us killed.” 

“I’d rather risk death than wait around and have nothing happen.”

“Peak, you are not the one at risk. I am. I should get the final say here.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s your mission for revenge too, of course you get to choose.”

“Exact--” 

“Unless you’re being a big fat stupid idiot.” Peak interrupted. “Then you should shut up and listen to me.”

“I do no--” Emmeth began.

“What I’m trying to say,” Peak cut him off once more, “is that you’re being a big fat stupid idiot.”

Emmeth wordlessly stared at the rock. 

“Peak, we may have agreed that I am to no longer treat you poorly, but if you continue to be insufferable, I will climb up a tree and leave you there until I’m done tracking down my killers.”

“Okay, I’ll stop. But we need to have an actual plan we can do. It’s not like we can just wander off in the direction they’re in until we see fires or hear screaming.”

…

“Oh god, that’s exactly what we’re going to do, isn’t it?”

Emmeth answered the stone by picking him up and walking towards the door.

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

“This is pain! My life is pain!” Peak sang off tune. “My death is pain! Everything is pain! SUFFERING!”

Peak was being overdramatic. Emmeth and his pet stone had left the farmhouse and the field behind. Emmeth, being pragmatic, understood that he needed some sort of weapon if he was going to survive, and so he grabbed the scythe from where he tossed it in the barn. Peak kept calling him an “Edgelord” and he wasn’t sure what to make of it, but it was probably just more of the rock’s nonsense. 

It was because of scythe, actually, that Peak was acting this way. A scythe is a two handed weapon. Sure, Emmeth was using it more like a walking stick, but he would require two hands if he wanted to wield it properly. 

This meant that Peak was not being carried. Peak had to roll itself along.

While not a difficult thing to do in the fields, it was annoying for traveling through the forest. The many obstacles on the ground Peak would bump into would slow the rock down slightly, and it couldn’t bulldoze through them because Emmeth was walking and if Peak were to go too fast, then the stone would just have to wait for Emmeth, and it was all a big pain in the ass that was bullshit, and why couldn’t Emmeth just fucking carry Peak, for fuck’s sake!

“I exist in agony! Agony! AGONY! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

“Your music is horrendous.” Emmeth dryly commented. “An artist, you are not.”

“You think I’m not artistic?” Peak cried in mock outrage. “How could you! I’ll have you know that I am plenty artistic! I’m an absolute musical genius!”

“Sing me a good song then.” Emmeth said.

“... Well, that’s a bit difficult. If you would point your attention towards my mouth- oh wait, I don’t have one.” Peak said, bulldozing over how it sang using some weird soul shit that Peak didn’t really understand either.

“Then recite a verse to me.” Emmeth played along.

“Well… I don’t remember any.”

“You are unable to recite even a single song and yet you have the gall to call yourself a musical genius? For shame.” 

Peak was stunned. “Since when did you ever make jokes?” accused Peak, “I’m supposed to be the funny one!”

“Yes, you are indeed the comic relief.” Emmeth concurred.

“Glad to see you…” Peak trailed off as he put together what Emmeth meant. “Hey.”

Emmeth smiled to himself as Peak fumed.

“Well, it’s not like you’re any good at it either.”

“My oratory abilities outclass yours.” Emmeth informed Peak.

“Then you recite some poetry, genius.” 

Emmeth thought it over. 

“Very well then.” He acceded. 

“Really?” Peak asked, but Emmeth had already begun a verse.

“We’re wandering about,
We do not have a route!
A pathless pair of travelers are we…
Away we walk along,
With merriment and song!
Adventurers of antiquity…”

…

“Holy shit, you got skills.” Peak said.

“Was it that obvious?”

“I... Wait, what?”

Emmeth stopped walking. “Were you not saying that I was employing the use of a skill?”

“It… I’m not actually sure what I was trying to say.” Peak admitted. 

“I have a skill group that helps me.” Emmeth stated. “Language.”

“Language? Does that mean you can learn a lot of languages, or you’re just good at using language?”

“I have not made an attempt to learn another language.” Emmeth confessed. “However, the skills I have attained do help me speak and write more clearly.”

“Huh. That’s cool.” Peak thought about it for a moment. “What specifically can you do with it?”

“I can recite oration riddled with rhetoric, recount rhymes renowned, and recently, I retort reckless rocks.”

“Oh, that was so fucking awesome!” Peak cheered.

“Thank you.”

“Dude, why can’t I get skills like that?”

“Are you trying to gain those skill groups?”

“Well, no, but it’s not like I…” the stone realized that it had indeed only gained skill groups when it had been attempting to. Well, except that vibration perception skill, but that was a bit of a fluke. 

“If you want skills, you have to work for them.” Emmeth revealed.

“I dunno, I’ve gained a lot of skills without really trying.”

“That is most likely because they were your first skills.”

“Does that really matter?” 

“First skills are usually the ones people utilize the most, unless their talents are particularly exotic.” Emmeth explained. “If you would like to add more skills to your repertoire, you will need to work at them, and even then, you may not have the talent.”

Peak mulled this over. “So I can learn anything unless I can’t?”

“Exactly.” This wasn’t exactly correct, but it was close enough and Emmeth didn’t want to bother with going into detail.

“That makes total sense except I don’t really get it.”

“How does it not make sense?”

“What determines what I can and can’t do? How am I supposed to know what I can’t do?”

“How can anyone determine what they excel at without trial and error?”

“... This is getting a bit too deep for me.”

“...” Emmeth continued onwards mutely. 

…

“I live in misery!” Peak sang once more. 

“Quiet!” Emmeth hushed Peak.

“YOU CANNOT STOP MY--”

“Shh! Something is wrong.” Emmeth abruptly stopped walking.

The forest was silent. The birds had stopped singing, the leaves had stopped rustling. Despite this, the wind was still blowing. It was incongruous. For the wind to blow without any sound at all was irregular.

Emmeth glanced about, searching for the cause of this unnatural phenomena. He didn’t have to search long, as the source made itself known.

“Greetings, candidate.” A somewhat feminine voice called out. “For what reason have you graced my hunting grounds?”

Emmeth turned around and froze.

“Emmeth, what’s wrong?”

He didn’t respond, instead taking a stance that was well suited for running at a moment’s notice, which he might have to do if Peak couldn’t see the thing. 

It was a tall creature, made taller by its sharp antlers. It’s humanoid body was lithe, but covered in black-brown fur. Thin arms with long-fingered hands stretched down to its knees. It’s legs were bent, barely crouching. 

But more alarming than any of that was its head, or lack thereof. All it had in place of a head was the skull of a deer, its antlers curving and pointing upwards. 

The monster regarded Emmeth silently. It tilted its head to the side as though to better examine him. 

“Not going to answer, are you? That’s not particularly wise, especially as you are trespassing.” the being continued.