John was on his hands and knees on a wide path or narrow dirt road in the woods. It seemed vaguely familiar to him. With a moment’s contemplation he realized it was the same area he was in after dying, before entering the light with Dingo Boy that led to the grey place and Nathanael. The fog was gone now but it was definitely the same place. He glanced over his shoulder in time to see the arch of light closing in on itself and winking out. He remembered the voice as they walked into the light. He looked around and said, “Hello?” There was no answer. He shook his head and stood up, deciding that the craziness of the day must have gotten to him. His canine companion was off the trail and exploring. The dog’s slightly curled tail could be seen cutting through the underbrush like a shark’s fin cutting through the water.
“Don’t collect everything you walk through in your pouches!” he called out to the Heeler. He could imagine the mess he’d have to pull out of those deep, deep, containers that were attached to the sides of the dog’s vestlike harness. Scanning the area around him he realized what he thought was a simple wood was actually a huge forest, an expansive woodland. There were in a valley surrounded by tree covered hills. The narrow road he was on stretched out before him and turned to the right in the distance. Behind him it ran relatively straight as far as the eye could see.
Dingo Boy crashed out of the bushes to stand in front of him on the wide path. “You’re covered in half the forest,” the man mock-scolded and the dog shook, dislodging most of the twigs, leaves, and debris stuck to him. John bent down and pulled a stubborn leaf from the fur of his neck. He stood up and spun it slowly by the stem inspecting it. The leaf was vaguely heart shaped with soft toothy frills along each side. It smelled a little like garlic, more so as he rolled it between his fingers. “I can eat this…” he mumbled aloud as his Alchemical Naturopath skill triggered and his head filled with information about the leaf. It had vitamin C, calcium, magnesium and antioxidants, was a bulwark against cancer, provided some antimicrobial and antiviral benefits, was good for digestion, was an anti-inflammatory, boosted the immune system, was a detoxifier, and supported both bone and joint health. A short bark brought John out of the glut of information. He looked down at the Cattle Dog and said, “On second thought, go ahead and collect stuff in your pouches from the forest just not water or mud.” With another short bark Dingo Boy crashed back into the underbrush. John put the leaf into his mouth and started to chew on it. It tasted like garlic and the mustard greens his grandmother used to make for him in the fall and early winter. “Garlic mustard leaf,” he said thoughtfully.
He considered both of the directions that the narrow road led. He set his feet toward the curve in the distance. It was, after all, the direction they were headed when they first arrived on the wide path. As he walked, nearing the bend to the right he contemplated the weather, the shadows around him, and the position of the sun. He guessed it was early summer here and approaching midday. It was warm out, almost hot but his jacket seemed to be cooling him slightly as the hike heated him up. Was this another useful aspect of the blessed garment, his armor, not mentioned by the Virtue? He looked down at it and realized his jacket was longer than before and a different color! It used to stop at his waist but now it continued down another four or five inches and the light tan it once was had changed to a dark brown. The fabric was different. He felt it and discovered that the canvas was now rougher and slightly oily. Was this still cotton? He couldn’t tell, the fabric was waxed and oiled to protect it against rain. He reached back and pulled up his hood and discovered that it, too, was the same oiled material as the jacket. He stopped in his tracks and took a good look at himself. His clothes were completely different! His bluejeans were now a soft oiled leather, maybe deershin. His belt was still leather but the buckle was now made of an unknown dull metal, maybe iron with craftsmanship that was rough but not crude. His workboots, while still leather, were now very tall, almost to his knees. They were laced with leather cordage instead of the parachord he’d been using. He lifted his foot and inspected the soles. They had once been made of rubber but had changed to leather while still retaining the same tread pattern as before. Both his belt and boots were oiled for protection from the weather. His cotton t-shirt was now rough cloth that looked like something from a renaissance fair including lacing that closed the v-neck. It was an off-white color and was tucked into his pants. Nathanael said his clothes would change to become appropriate to the world he was visiting but this was more than he expected. He reached into the inner pocket of his jacket, on the left side, just above the grip of his .357 magnum and thought of his wallet. Something materialized in his hand but it was not his wallet. Bringing it out of his jacket he discovered a drawstring bag, a pouch, about the size of a softball. It was a soft leather similar to his pants. Inside he found his driver’s license, a couple of credit cards, a few one dollar bills and a five, and the picture of Lynn he kept in his wallet. He let out a low whistle and Dingo Boy barked from the brush. He returned his ‘wallet’ to its customary pocket and checked himself over one more time before continuing down the wide path.
As John walked, the narrow road gradually drifted to the right. A light brown blur flashed across his path startling him. His hand immediately shot into his jacket and grabbed the grip of the gun there. A split second behind the blur was the Cattle Dog in rapid pursuit. They zigged and zagged through the underbrush then the chase suddenly ended. John could see the mottled blue and white tail of the Heeler turning in circles as he searched for his prey. It was clear that the ‘chased’ had lost the ‘chaser’. “Better luck next time Buddy!” John yelled and Dingo Boy’s head popped up out of the brush. He barked at the man then whined, requesting help. “You find it,” John said and continued to walk down the wide path. The dog sniffed around some more then went back to exploring the underbrush. The narrow road drifted to the left and John continued to follow it enjoying the fresh air and the occasional sunny patch. If he forgot that this was not his world, the events that led him here, and the strange clothes he was wearing he could pretend that this was just a hike on a new trail. He resolved to do just that and walked along in peace for almost half an hour until he walked into the clearing.
Dingo Boy was having a great time exploring the underbrush and bushes along the trail as John hiked. He’d even managed to catch-up to the rabbit he was chasing but it had vanished on him. One second he was closing in on it, thinking about stuffing it into one of his pouches to keep for later, and the next it was just gone. What a good chase though, the prey was wily and fast. It ran this way and that and then unexpectedly doublebacked on him. As it ran past it was suddenly gone. He’d turned in several circles looking for it but it was nowhere. It must have escaped down a hole. Rabbits and other small game did that sometimes. He’d complained to John but the man offered no help.
As he sniffed for the escaped bunny he caught another animal’s scent on the breeze. Something was up ahead. He glanced over at John and saw that he was strolling along casually. The potential prey ahead would get away at this rate! He reached out with his mind-leash and connected to his buddy. He made the connection very solid and sent urgency through it. The man on the trail began to walk faster. The Cattle Dog panted and laughed as he kept pace with his companion. There were some great possibilities here!
It was easier to walk on the trail like John was doing but it wasn’t as interesting as crashing through the forest. He had no idea why his partner never left the beaten path behind for the fascinating sites and smells of the unmanicured landscape. Sure, sometimes he had to go around thistles or navigate thorny vines but those were just inconveniences. Besides, his new skill, Escape Artist, allowed him to slip through the vegetation like never before.
He kept pace with John, lost in the process of sniffing, marking, and investigating when he caught the animal’s scent again. It was very close now. He hurried a little ahead of John and saw a break in the fallen branches and plants up ahead. He approached silently, stalking, and stopped when he spotted the creature in a cleared area. It was the size of a dog but didn’t smell like one. He caught another scent on the breeze wafting toward him, blood and viscera. This thing had made a kill and was eating it.
Dingo Boy reached out with the mind-leash and contacted the furry form. It didn’t seem to notice. Instead of sending a thought he just listened with the connection. He felt something odd about the mind of this animal, something unpleasant. It reminded him of dogs he’d met who only knew dominating, not playing. They would attack and bite instead of sniffing and romping. Then something else came through the connection, something that made him feel cold inside and his fur stood on end. He cut the connection.
He glanced at the trail and John. The man had just reached the clearing and noticed the animal. He reached out with the mind-leash and made it as solid as he ever had. He poured a warning through it. Sending every sensation he’d felt from the predator in the clearing. The sight of the creature shocked his friend deeply and a word came through the connection, ‘rat’. The thing in the clearing was a rat and it was bigger than it should be. He felt fear suffuse John, it reminded him of scuffing footsteps. He readied himself to attack.
Noonday sunlight shone into the wide open area that John found along the narrow road. It was off to the right, and looked like an old campsite. It was large enough to accommodate tents for a few people. There was a firepit, a ring of stones with some old bits of burned wood and charcoal in it. To the side of the firepit was a modest stack of wood. Just beyond that, a huge rat stood over something bloody tearing at it with purpose. The thing was dark grey, the size of a full grown Cocker Spaniel, and had a muzzle red and slick with blood. It chewed and its long whiskers shook. John drew his gun before he realized he was doing it. He took aim at the rat and, in a slightly higher version of Nathanael’s booming voice, the gun exclaimed, “Oh WOW, that’s a really, really big rat!” John tilted the gun and stared at it in shock. The aforementioned rodent looked up from its meal, still chewing.
“You can talk!?!”
“Of course I can!” the revolver answered indignantly.
“Nathanael didn’t mention that!” The rat was completely forgotten as the man talked to the gun.
“Of course he did,” the weapon sniffed in a vaguely hurt tone.
“He did not, I would have remembered that,” returned John.
In as deep a voice as the revolver could manage he quoted, “Until then it will grant wondrous properties to your weapon, reloading it, keeping it clean, protecting it from damage, and perhaps more.”
John blinked at the perfect reproduction of the Virtue’s words. “Nothing in that mentions you talking!”
“What do you think the ‘perhaps more’ part means?” the gun asked triumphantly.
The forgotten rat produced a fierce hiss that became a low growl. It started to charge across the clearing dragging its thick rough tail behind it. A few yards from John the rat leapt, he took aim, and a blue, white, and red form crashed into the side of the rat midair. They hit the ground rolling, separated, then faced off and began circling. The rat hissed and growled at Dingo Boy reminding John of a giant housecat. The Heeler had raised fur from his neck to the base of his tail hidden in the middle by his harness. He growled deep in his chest and the growl became an aggressive shout of a bark. The huge rodent leapt again, this time at Dingo Boy. The dog leapt to the side and rotated in the air landing to face his adversary. As the rat landed and before it could recover, the Heeler lunged at it. The leap took him high. As he passed over the rodent he grabbed it by the back of the neck, and used his momentum to flip forward. The rat came off the ground in an arch and as the dog landed with all four feet firmly on the ground the arch finished with the rat smashed into the earth. There was a pronounced “thump”. Dingo Boy leapt back and snarled. A red hole appeared in the top of the rat’s head and a thunderous boom filled the air. John’s ears began ringing. The dog looked up at the man, shook his head a couple of times and barked. He trotted to the Warrior panting and grinning with his tongue lolling from the corner of his mouth.
“What the hell!”
“What the purgatory,” corrected the gun. Smoke was curling from the barrel and a faint light was glowing from the cylinder where the empty cartridge was.
The ringing in John’s ears was already fading to nothing. He’d fired a gun with no hearing protection before and it had taken much longer for his ears to clear. Dingo Boy walked over to the rat and sniffed at it. “Leave it,” said John. The Heeler looked up at him, then back to the rat. He whined but complied. Then he walked over to the rat’s kill. John could see that it was a rabbit. “Leave it,” the man repeated, the Cattle Dog snorted and, growling under his breath, headed out to continue his exploration in the underbrush. As John holstered the .357 magnum he awkwardly said, “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” said the firearm.
John looked around the clearing. Ignoring the corpse of the rodent he walked to the firepit. The small pile of wood stacked next to it was dry and seasoned nicely. He couched down and started to load the wood, piece at a time, into one of his jacket pockets. He’d need a fire eventually and having something on hand to burn would come in handy. He didn’t see any harm in taking the wood. It was obvious that no one had camped there in a long time. Next he inspected the charcoal in the firepit. There were several large pieces, some included bits of brown wood in them. That happened when a fire was doused with water. He loaded the biggest chunks into the same jacket pocket that the wood had gone into. Charcoal had many good uses. As he thought about them his Alchemical Naturopath skill activated and information flooded his head. Charcoal was an emergency treatment for poisoning that absorbed toxins before they were digested if eaten at the right time. It also helped with gas and bloating and served as a toothpaste substitute. A few more facts passed through his mind. He shook his head. He’d collected the charcoal to make starting a fire easier, he hadn’t intended to eat it. The flood of data had caught him off guard. Alchemical Naturopath was a useful skill, especially without the Internet for research, but the flow of information was overwhelming. He’d have to practice with it.
He rose and walked through the clearing back to the narrow road. As he passed it he glanced down at the enormous dead rat. Were there more of these things out there? He’d have to learn to control the skill that filled his head with facts and data. With monsters like this roaming around he couldn’t afford the near meditative state it brought over him.
Now that was exciting! The Angelic Shard, the gun, had been waiting for the right moment to make contact with the man. He’d been startled when the revolver had first spoken as they entered the dimensional gate and the weapon didn’t want to get off on the wrong foot with his partner. Being drawn, brought into service, seemed like the perfect icebreaker. Maybe the interaction wasn’t perfect, maybe it lacked a real introduction, but in the end the job was done. He’d saved the day and proved his worth.
He used astral projection to manifest next to John. They walked together unbeknownst to the Warrior. It was pleasant strolling along together enjoying the ambiance and the atmosphere. The Angelic Shard looked over at the dog as he explored the bushes and felt affection for the animal. It made sense, Nathanael liked dogs and so his shard would as well. There was something more than that though, the Heeler had defended their mutual partner. The firearm decided that he was partnered with Dingo Boy as well. They were all partners! They were a party! How awesome!
He dematerialized and withdrew into the anchor in John’s jacket. He had explored it very thoroughly. He needed to grow more but eventually he’d be able to do wonders with it. He had also explored the pockets of the jacket he was carried in. Nathanael had given him access to them so he could use their contents to reload his cartridges when they were empty. It was important to know what he had to work with so he wasn’t snooping by looking through them all. He looked in the left breast pocket and found the picture of the woman John was looking for. They were on a quest for love! The gun swooned and sighed in contentment.
As John walked he activated his Alchemical Naturopath skill. He reached out to touch a leaf or a branch, or a bit of moss, letting the information drift through his mind. Each contact would bring on the flood of information and with it the system overload. With practice he was able to keep more of his wits about him as the data assaulted his psyche. It was something like learning to drive and listen to music at the same time. As a young driver he’d often have to turn off the radio to focus on driving. Four way stops, yield signs, and watching for a freeway exit required that the music be silenced. As he gained experience he could simply focus on driving and his awareness of the music would fade. As he walked and triggered his skill over and over he learned to shift his focus between his surroundings and the influx of information. He wondered what would have happened if he’d touched the dead rat with the skill activated and shuttered.
John glanced into the forest to the left and saw Dingo Boy’s tail cutting through the bushes and ferns. It stopped and wagged slightly. “Don’t eat that,” he called out. The tail stopped wagging, paused, then moved on from that spot. He sighed and hoped his companion had not just consumed something he would throw up later, likely at an inconvenient time. The dingo mix had a special knack for inconvenient timing. The dog’s close range tactics and the Warrior’s long range weapon could be a bad mix. He’d have to be extra careful when shooting enemies that the Heeler was fighting. Were there more giant rats out in the brush? The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He hoped not. Remembering the fight, he was glad no one got bit. No telling what kind of diseases an animal like that might be carrying. Seeking a distraction he lightly tapped his jacket and asked, “You got a name?”
“Nope. Got any ideas?”
“I used to call that gun, Machine,” John said.
“Hmmm… not a fan… let’s see. I’m a shard of Nathanael… his name means ‘Given by God’, you know?”
“No, I didn’t know.”
“Well it does. Since I’m a part of him I feel like my name should include part of his name… hmm… how about Nath-esh?” asked the revolver.
“What does that mean?” The man was fascinated despite himself.
“Well, the ‘Nath’ part means ‘given’ and the ‘esh’ part means ‘fire’ so my name would mean ‘given fire’. What do you think?”
“Nath-esh,” John tasted the name. It wasn’t hard to say and he liked the meaning. “Sounds good to me.”
“Oooookay! I’ll be Nath-esh and you can be John!”
John chuckled, “Thanks,” he said in mock gratitude. “What does my name mean?”
“Your name means ‘God is gracious’ and has a strong connection to redemption.”
“I think I read some of that before. I didn’t know about the redemption part though.” John faded off into thought. Redemption fit nicely into all of this. He continued touching leaves and other foliage as he walked, fine tuning the balance between taking in information and staying present and aware of the world around him.
Something ran through the underbrush and Dingo Boy raced after it. John was sure it wasn’t another giant rat. It was clearly much smaller than the Heeler. The dog leapt onto a fallen log then sailed through the air to land directly on the smaller animal. There was a short squealing cry then silence. Dingo Boy trotted out of the brush with a dead rabbit in his jaws. He was obviously proud of his victory.
“Good job!” John praised. “Come sit,” he commanded and the dog came and sat on the wide path in front of him. “Drop,” the rabbit was dropped and the Heeler licked his chops. The man scratched him behind his ears and gave him a few pets. The multicolored canine stood and started wagging his tail in wide arcs. John picked up the slightly drooled on rabbit. There was a little blood coming from its nose. “Looks like you caught dinner,” he said, putting the rabbit into one of his pockets. He hoped it wouldn’t get blood on anything. With a bark and a grin Dingo Boy leapt back into the brush, once again on the hunt.
“Rabbit for dinner? Will you make hasenpfeffer?” asked a voice from inside John’s jacket.
“How do you know it’s a rabbit?” asked the man, “I mean without being able to see.”
“Because I’m in my holster?” Nath-esh asked.
“Yeah?” it wasn’t clearly a statement or a question.
“I’m a spiritual being, John. Your gun is just the anchor I reside in. If I want to be present outside of your jacket when my anchor is holstered I use astral projection.”
“The gun isn’t your body?” asked the Warrior.
“Nope. It’s my anchor. I’m usually confined to it. If I concentrate, if I push, I can step out of it. When Dingo Boy brought the rabbit I popped out to see what was going on.”
“So you were just floating around like a ghost?” John asked skeptically.
“More like I was standing next to you like a specter,” Nath-esh said.
“Standing next to me?” The thought was mildly disturbing to the man.
“Yep. Don’t worry, I didn’t do anything too creepy,” teased the gun.
John let that pass and said, “I’ve noticed that the way you talk is a lot more casual than Nathanael.”
“He takes his role very seriously. It IS a high honor after all. But I think sending me to adventure with you was his way of letting his hair down.”
“Will it be an adventure?” John asked.
“We can only hope! Maybe we’ll save the day, maybe you’ll die horribly, who can tell?” the revolver stated cheerily.
John was about to comment on the proposition that he might ‘die horribly’ when he noticed a game trail that joined the wide path he was on. It had a pronounced line down the middle of it where small rocks, twigs, and other debris had been pushed to the side. The line continued across the narrow road he had been taking and disappeared into the underbrush on the other side. This must have been where the huge rat came from. The Cattle Dog popped out of the brush and followed the line across the path. He must have been tracking the big rat’s trail since the clearing. The Heeler paused, smelled the air, then started down the game trail sniffing this and that as he went. “Hey, Dingo Boy! Come on. Come back here.” The dog quickened his pace and started jogging down the small trail. John lost sight of him around a bend. He could still see the merle tail so he tracked it while calling out for the dingo mix to stop. His normally obedient companion just kept going. Then he lost sight of the tail, spotted it again, then lost it. He set off after the Cattle Dog with a curse.
“Language!” came the shocked voice of the revolver in his jacket.
John trotted down the game trail, twisted around a nasty looking nettle, and quick-stepping around several bare tree roots. He gained enough ground on the dog to see his tail again and poured on the steam as best he could. He glanced up and saw it stopped off the trail in the forest. The path was fairly clear ahead so he watched it as he walked. The tail dropped out of sight. There was something wrong about the way it had vanished. The path took a few tight turns around some trees. The brush thinned and he left it behind. As John approached the spot where he’d last seen the sign of his beloved friend he scanned the underbrush. There was no trace of the dog anywhere.
“Wait! Shhhhh! I hear something…?” Nath-esh said in a piercing whisper.
John stopped moving and listened. He could hear an echoing bark that sounded like it was coming from a long way away, it was an alarmed bark. Then there was a pained yelp. In his six years of life Dingo Boy had never yelped in pain. Vet visits, a tail closed in a sliding door once, a carabiner stuck in the webbing between his toes and never a yelp. The sound surged adrenaline through John.
He crashed through the brush following the noise. It sounded like it was so far away. There was no sign of the dog. He forced his way through the thick foliage with a purpose and, suddenly, the world dropped out from under him. He was surrounded by dirt and roots on all sides. He was falling, then sliding, dirt got in his mouth, nose, and ears. Then he was coughing and sliding, then he fell again, then slid some more. When it was all over he found himself laying flat on very hard ground in pitch black darkness with hissing, growling, and commotion off to his right.