I'm a Professional Loner [Solo]

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The day so far had not been going well for Thestalos.


He'd woken up grumpy - not something that uncommon, but that didn't make it any more pleasant to experience. Nobody seemed to want to quest with him that day - apparently, human/animal hybrids were less freaky than someone who had eyes resembling those of a dead fish. He'd set off on his own, having given up on finding a partner, and got lost on his way to the woods. When he did finally get to the woods, people seemed to actively avoid him. It was as if he had some sort of reputation as a crazed loner - the latter one being the only true one.

"Be a summoner, they said... It's a good solo class, they said... What a load of horse [REDACTED]. I've got cloth armour and the defensive stats of a wet towel. How the bloody hell am I in a decent class for soloing? I should've gone with monk, but nooooo..."

Thestalos' ramblings were muttered under his breath - few would hear him, and those that did probably wouldn't be able to make out what he was saying. Not that he particularly cared. He was too busy moaning about how he had chosen the wrong class, and how summoners weren't worth the staves they started with.

He decided to take a turn off of the beaten path - if he couldn't get anyone to come with him, he'd just train by himself. No change from the usual, then. That was his policy with most MMOs - fight, train, and progress without anyone's help. It was tough clearing dungeons, and likely defeated the entire purpose of the genre, but it hardly mattered to the boy. He had neither the trust nor patience for other people, and they didn't seem to want to be around him much either. When it came to being a loner, he considered himself a professional.

In a stark contrast to the smell of town air, one he still hadn't gotten used to, Elder Tale's London's air smelled clean. Granted, some would be more used to it, but to someone who never went out unless he had to, the smell of untainted air was wondrous. It was, in fact, one of the few things that brought the moody little blighter some sort of joy. It was a minor form of joy you would not be blamed for missing, and one that was slowly fading as he got used to the world around him, but it was still there.

Thestalos inhaled deeply, and stared at the path ahead of him. It didn't look like there were too many people ahead of him, which suited him well. He didn't want to have to deal with people. The ones ahead of him didn't seem to be waiting to ambush anyone either, so they probably weren't going to attack him. He'd run away if they did, though. He was good at running, and he didn't think that he could see anyone in their presence that could trap him. He decided that the area would be decent training for him, and thus, he continued forth.

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Thestalos continued walking a little further keeping out of the way of anyone he could. With his lacklustre appearance, his head down, and his tendency to keep to the edges of the path, all came together to practically make him invisible to everyone. It wasn't that he had used a skill - it was just that he knew how to make it so nobody paid him attention. Sure, they knew he was there, but they just didn't think that he mattered at all. He knew that aiming to have himself seen this way was a little sad, but it helped him stay alone, so he stuck to his guns.

He used his staff to beat aside the flora and fauna in the woods, though it was mostly just branches. He wasn't going to be able to cut them effectively, but he could at lest make sure they were out of his way. It was at times like this that he regretted picking a staff as his default weapon - he assumed blade-wielding characters wouldn't have this trouble. His expression, already stony, dropped further when a particularly thick branch hit him square in the face, causing him to stop dead in his tracks. After muttering something unintelligible, he resumed his trek further in.

This was actually the closest Thestalos had gotten to going somewhere more natural than the local park.Being the kind of shut-in that treated their home as a stronghold and the outside world as an Eldritch plain that was as vast as it was terrifying, being able to walk about it while being himself was something that Thestalos welcomed. He didn't have to deal with insects, there wasn't anything on the floor that would cause his footwear to smell foul if he stepped in it, and there wasn't the matter of druggies hiding around the corner. Granted, some people insisted on killing others, but he generally found they ignored him, or deemed him not worth the trouble.

Eventually, he stopped, wanting to take in the sights around him. Not because he admired them, mind - he'd admired them enough already. No, he needed to see if there were any enemies about. This was where his pathfinder skill came in useful. He focussed his senses and toggled Battle Perception on, scanning the immediate area. Nothing of much interest came up, however. There were a couple of Frenmic Rabbits nearby, but he figured that they wouldn't yield much in the way of useful loot, even if he did give chase. Though he had grown tired of it, he kept moving, poking about the area to try and find some enemies to fight.

The grove was small, however, and there couldn't be so few enemies that he couldn't come across one eventually. And it wasn't as if he couldn't take them, either. Even a soil golem that was a single meter high could take a Dull Slime by itself. Thestalos just had to let it draw aggro to itself, while he got in a few hits with his staff. There wasn't any need for fancy staff tricks or manoeuvres, so it was just a matter of staying away when he needed to. He just wished that there were some boulders around - a few pebbles did not a stone golem make.

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It was at times like this that Thestalos allowed himself to reflect, and just let thoughts flood his brain. He didn't have to keep up any appearances, he didn't have to make an effort to keep people away from him - he was free. While brutally beating someone down verbally was a feeling that few experiences could hope to match, Thestalos relished the chance to just lay back and collect himself. He checked once more to see if there were any enemies closing in on him - there were none, bar a few of the rabbit-like creatures. Even they were scampering off with all due haste.

Thestalos closed his dead-fish eyes, and lay back, using his hands as a pillow. Immediately, he cursed the fact that tailors had not done all they could to produce portable sleeping bags. He cursed himself for not having brought something to rest his head on. He blamed a lot of people, including himself, for him not having a pillow. He knew it didn't matter much, but he hadn't come across much else to think about, so thoughts of pillows occupied his mind. He shifted slightly and let the breeze blow over him, ruffling his hair, and flooding his nostrils with the sickly-sweet stench of all the grove's flowers.

Thestalos was quickly growing tired of the smell of flowers.

He swiftly chided himself for having chosen to come to the flower grove. He knew that there were other places he could have gone to. He knew that they held the same monsters to train against, and that there was probably stone to make a decent golem out of. His expression turned to one of bitter remorse, and he glared at the sky. He didn't direct it at the sky, but the sky was in his way. Thestalos soon found out that the sun shining in his eyes would still hurt - his pained cry showed that he had found out the hard way.

Thestalos covered his eyes and rubbed them, cursing his lack of thought. He sat up, and shook off whatever tiredness he had accumulated. Now was not the time for rest. Rest was making him lazy. He had come to train, not lay around all day, thinking about pillows, and how harsh the sun was. Thestalos rose shakily to his feet, using his staff as a support, and began poking about the bushes. There had to be something nearby - a boar, a slime, anything. He just couldn't take being so bored. He loved being by himself, but unless there was something for him to do, solitude wasn't the most entertaining of things.

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Thestalos' boredom was soon dispelled, however - a Dull Slime slithered over to him, at around the same pace as a snail. It would take it a while to do anything, so he thought - if he gave it about a year, he supposed it could probably cover the distance of the clearing. Thus, there was little reaction from him - nothing more than a raised eyebrow and a disinterested grunt. He had all the time in the world - hence why he didn't even bother to glance back at his new enemy while he scrolled through the various menus.

"Let's see... Inventory... Options... Spells. Oh, come on, work with me..."
Thestalos was still getting accustomed to the fiddliness of the menu. Being able to access it at the touch of a button was far more convenient than having to aapply just the right amount of pressure to navigate anywhere. I took him a few tries, but eventually, he managed to select the one spell he had, and used it with a fraction of the due haste.
"Summon Follower - Golem."
Thestalos struck the ground with his staff, and held it there, awaiting a response. A few moments later, he got what he was looking for.

Parts of the ground began to quiver and shake, before coming together in a relatively large heap on the floor. The dirt began packing itself into a human-like shape. Though only a single meter tall, he supposed that this temporary companion would be more than enough for him to work with. For now.
"Golem, attack."
The command was one uttered with complete and total boredom evident in Thestalos' voice. Not that the golem thought that it mattered. He doubted that it thought at all. All it did in response to him was make a low groaning noise, like strained machinery, and it lumbered forward to attack.

Thestalos acted a few seconds later. He began by beating the slime as hard as he could with his staff - it didn't do much, but it was drawing aggro to him. Normally, this was a bad thing, as he had the endurance and the defensive capabilities of a wet flannel. However, he could outpace the slime by walking, so keeping it at distance with such a long weapon did not prove to be much trouble for him. Just boring. He supposed that having a golem to help out was a bonus, though. Though it was essentially just some packed dirt, its attack power was decent enough to get by on.

While repeatedly sinking his staff into what was essentially just an amassment of mucus animated was a rather unpleasant experience, it was pretty much the only resource Thestalos had for points in his respective classes. That, and boars, but the boars were more troublesome to hunt. As he had no stealth capabilities or ranged attacks of any sort, being vewwy vewwy quiet and hunting wabbits was not a viable option. His expression only seemed to grow more annoyed as he beat the monster into submission, just wishing that the fight could end. He didn't even move that much - he could have sworn that the slime wasn't making an effort to move.

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With the combined force of a stick that was about as well-made as clock put together by a blind five-year-old with arthritis and a humanoid golem that was essentially little more than a patch of dirt slightly more useful than the floor, the Dull Slime eventually succumbed to chip damage and died. When it did, it let out comical squeaking noise. Whether or not this was normal was beyond Thestalos, but he was willing to overlook that because he had seen an increase in his experience points. While this was all fine and dandy, his expression turned to one that screamed "Are you bloody serious".

This was because the Dull Slime had barely provided more experience than waiting around and poking at People of the Land in the hope that they'd just give you something to get you to leave. If he didn't look closely, Thestalos could have sworn that he hadn't gained any experience points and that all he'd done was just whack a slime-like whoopee cushion repeatedly until it made an amusing sound and broke down into a cloud of bubbly sparkles. The young summoner strung together a multitude of curses under his breath to form the foul language equivalent of Frankenstein's monster, but he silently wished somebody had heard him.

While he was indeed a freakish loner whose primary goal in life was to get a job where he had minimal contact with humans and could just die alone in his room without anyone so much as noticing him gone, he was also shockingly human. He was shockingly human in that he got bored of being alone sometimes, and that he didn't find silent golems incapable of thoughts more advanced than 'CRUSH KILL DESTROY' very good company. Despite this, he went searching for more slimes to attack, so that after both of his arms had detached at the shoulder he could claim that he was a third of the way to level two.

Now that he'd grown bored of the abundant flora and fauna, Thestalos' familiar bitterness and cynicism began to set in. He recalled just why he always avoided going into garden centres no matter what because the combined cloying scents of so many flowers in one area began to make his eyes water and his nose hairs curl up in disgust. He remembered just why he avoided going outside on breezy days - it was because he seemed to be like a magnet to nature's debris, in that for every five steps he took a sudden gust of wind would chuck a small mountain of leaves and bits of twigs at his face.

It wasn't all bad, though. Now that he had to redouble his efforts to focus on something other than how much he despised Mother Nature and the life she gave to the world, Thestalos finally realised that he was actually right about the spot he'd picked. Nobody was around to bother him. He considered it a rather hollow victory now that he realised how boring it was to not be around people when the battles were about as exciting as his personality, but he took some small comfort in that for once he had actually managed to make a decision that only went wrong instead of horribly wrong.

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Thestalos was smirking smugly to himself about how his little scheme had both failed and succeeded at the same time, when a rather feminine voice rang out. The abject terror it conveyed was enough to spur Thestalos into action - not to be a knight in shining armour, but because he was so utterly bored he felt that investigating the cause of it and being killed by it would be a less painful death than having to endure five more minutes of stray tree droppings being shoved in his face like an angry customer with a product they want returning, and the horrifyingly sweet smell of virtual flowers.

Thestalos ran as fast as he could. Considering the fact that he was about as athletic as a pet rock after the Christmas party in which it ate all the snacks and cried itself into and alcohol-induced slumber, his top speed wasn't anything remarkable. However, he did manage to get to the source of the screaming before either of the two young boars snorting and scraping at the ground had a chance to gore the androgynous person backed up against a tree. Thestalos knew engaging the two boars was going to be painful whether he won or lost, but the conscience he thought he'd put on bus and waved goodbye was screaming for him to save this pretty young man/woman.

While he deeply regretted running in while knowing that his spell was still cooling down, Thestalos ran in regardless, forcing one of the wild pigs' head straight into the floor with the end of his staff. This quickly caught both of the animals' attention, whereupon the summoner quickly realised just how big a mess he'd gotten himself into. After that, it was simply a matter of running about like a headless chicken while whacking the enemies and waiting for a spell to recharge. It looked thoroughly ridiculous, but as the alternative was waking up at the cathedral with the knowledge he couldn't solo two of the weakest monsters in the game, he stayed his hand.

Eventually, he was able to summon another golem, and performed what could only be described as the quickest speaking of the incantation in human history. Thestalos got knocked onto his arse by a charging boar, but his soil golem blocked the other one and started laying into it like an overexcited small child would if you gave him a bat and a piñata. Fortunately for Thestalos, he'd been stuck with the boar that had the least hit points. Considering how little damage he did with his staff, this was hardly any comfort. It was like hitting an elephant with a twig. Because that was what his staff essentially was. A twig.

The golem , on the other hand, seemed to be doing fine. Not good, not bad, just fine. It was keeping the boar at bay, and that was ll Thestalos really needed. The attack patterns were predictable and the attacks didn't actually do that much damage, but this was the first time in a while that Thestalos felt he was actually being challenged, instead of feeling like he'd been trapped in a large room with a crowd of sentient pillows he'd been tasked with beating relentlessly. That wasn't even including the people that he'd been stuck with, not one of which he actually cared about.

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It took him a while, but Thestalos managed to have himself and his golem kill the boars and save the boy/girl/boygirl. He wasn't sure whether to be thankful for the fact that he'd actually managed to pull it off, annoyed that he'd been thrashed within an inch of his digitised life by two violent piglets with bones coming out of their gnashers, resentful that he'd even arrived in the first place, or just outright sad because he'd been so bored he'd actually responded to a loud cry for help other people would have responded to quicker than the Flash if his arse was on fire.

Unwilling to make conversation with the (probably) now-coherent Person of the Land, Thestalos began pacing away from the scene of the crime, and kept his focus as far away from the obscenely pretty person that he supposed would probably be devoured by slimes the moment he was out of earshot. He managed to get about ten steps away before said Lander's awkward stuttering turned into something coherent, and out of politeness he was forced to stop and listen to what was being blurted out.
"I- Th-thank you!" He/she shouted in a worried fashion, as if Thestalos was about to turn around and beat them ten times harder than the boars.

One must keep in mind that Thestalos was not best known for being a generally happy person, or for having a generally happy expression. In fact, his social skills seemed about as existent as the Loch Ness monster. There was the extremely slim possibility that it existed based on evidence from people who you were heavily inclined to question the sanity of, but to most people, it just wasn't there and it didn't really matter. Remembering this, it was easy to see why him managing to keep a neutral expression and tone of voice while replying was so hard for him.
"It was nothing," he said while waving his hand dismissively, "Don't worry about it."

Had Thestalos been acting the way he really wanted to, he would've dashed off before the anonymous NPC had had a chance to even register the fact that he wasn't beating up deranged baby swine. However, due to circumstances involving his upbringing, which had resulted in him being a passive-aggressive loner who was only polite to people because being rude to them usually resulted in an argument that was longer than enduring their rambling speech about how special their thing was. He turned around and smiled at the lilac-haired gender-neutrally dressed androgynite in order to gauge whether or not there was anything else that needed to be done.

Which was when he remembered that NPCs were usually the ones to give out quests, which usually resulted in money. Or experience points. Usually less than the total you got after mindlessly pummelling the living daylights out of fifteen moles and a small group of smelly badgers.

The nameless person shook their head emphatically, and spoke again, in the kind of tone that made them seem like either a stereotypical shy girl or a really effeminate bloke who was yet to hit puberty but still had a body that models would commit cold-blooded murder to have. Obviously, this did nothing to help discern his or her gender. Not that Thestalos really cared that much - he would've killed the NPC in any other game by now because he found them so annoying, but he found himself unable to hit the person in front of him. Partly because he felt it would be like practising tap-dancing on a pile of kittens, but also because there was the possibility of getting something meaningful out of sticking around.

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He/she/they stuttered nervously while frantically twiddling their fingers, evidently trying to come up with something to say that wouldn't embarrass them more than having to be rescued already had.
"Um... I have a f-favour to ask, if you're not too busy. I mean, it's fine if you don't want to do it, it's just, well..."
Apparently dejected, the boy/girl/other-gender-not-mentioned looked down at the floor, not willing to say much more. Thestalos didn't say anything at first - he knew that kind of look. The 'I should probably stop talking' look. Not the one where they know they've gone on too long. The one where they think they shouldn't have spoken in the first place.

In the end, he decided to give a warm (for him) response.
"Fine, I've got some time on my hands. What do you need?"
The Lander seemed to perk up considerably when Thestalos agreed to hear them out. While he would have been annoyed, had anyone else expressed such sudden joy in his general vicinity, he knew how much such a simple gesture meant to him/her.
"Well, I'm kind of lost, you see, and there are lots of monsters, and I'm not very good at fighting, and-"
"You want me to escort you out of the forest?"
"I- Yes."
"Anywhere in particular?"
"Just to London, if you don't mind..."
"Come on, then, let's get going."

Thestalos slung his staff over his shoulder, and walked off, prompting his new (if temporary) companion to dash after him.
"So," he asked flatly, "Got a name?"
"It's Alex, sir."
"First rule of travelling with me, Alex. Don't call me sir. Thestalos'll do."
He actually preferred that nobody spoke to him at all, but he'd taken pity upon Alex, and didn't want to just leave him/her there. He was still human, after all. Not some kind of monster. Sure, his attitude provided all evidence to the contrary, but all in all, the persistent and the manipulative could manage to get at his core.

They continued walking towards London at their own leisure, though not once did they ever bother to stop and talk to each other. Thestalos did not see any need to, and did not want to either. He just wanted to get the unofficial escort mission over and done with. He was taking the main path, so it wasn't particularly likely that any monsters would attack them, but he still found dragging Alex along with him was tiresome. Alex himself likely did not speak out of shyness. That he kept his gaze to the floor and only looked up occasionally seemed to back this up.

"Any particular reason you were all the way out here?"
Thestalos asked out of curiosity, not out of genuine concern. It seemed odd to him that a person as combat-incapable as Alex was out in a zone known to be populated with monsters. Weak monsters, but ones still dangerous to those who couldn't defend themselves.
"Well, you see, my sister really needed something to help her with her cold, and we don't really have much money, but we have lots of books, so-"
"Alex. The point. Get to it."
"R-right! Um... I wanted to pick up some herbs to help with my sister's cold."

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The two walked with each other to the outskirts of London, and stopped. Neither expected a particularly emotional goodbye, but there seemed to be a mutual decision that seeing each other off was the polite thing to do.
"U-um... You know, its getting pretty late..."
"I don't get tired easily. Sleep late, rise early. It's one of the few things I do right."
"That's not-"
"Anyway, if you need anything else, say so now. I've got some training to do."
"But everyone's asleep now! Who'll you even train with?"
"I'll fight the monsters. I don't need to fight with anyone else, remember?"

"It's lonely out there at night, though."
"That's the point."
"There'll be more monsters!"
"Good."
"It'll be dark!"
"I'll manage."
"It-"
"I'll manage."
Alex obviously wanted to make another point, but hung his head. Thestalos couldn't tell whether it was in defeat, or if he was just frustrated with the stubborn obstacle being faced with. Thestalos attempted to turn and leave before he was roped into arguing any further, but was stopped when Alex grabbed him by the sleeve. Only for a moment, mind - he shook the hand off of himself, and muttered something at his acquaintance on the way back.
"Don't touch me."

Alex recoiled at Thestalos' hostility. It wasn't that he hadn't been expecting a negative response - in fact, he would have been surprised if Thestalos had just accepted being dragged along. What he hadn't expected was just how sharp, how bitter, his tone could be. It cut deeper than any sword, and just left him standing there, eyes wide and mouth flapping like a fish out of water. Thestalos didn't look back as he paced offstaff slung over his back, gaze fixed to the floor. He moved quickly - it wasn't hard to see just how much he wanted out.

"W-wait! You can-"
"Oh, for the love of... Sod off, will you? I'm busy."
Thestalos was not one for rising his voice, instead preferring to keep himself deadpan, so s to not allow his emotions to suface. But it was obvious that he was coming dangerously close. He stared Alex down with the coldest of gazes he could afford. The Lander stumbled backwards, clutching his herbs to his chest, as if Thestalos was about to strike him. Nobody would have blamed him for thinking that - it wasn't exactly normal for someone to act like Thestalos did. But this proved to be wht Thestalos needed.

Once more, Thestalos turned away, and made his way down the beaten path, hoping that Alex wouldn't bother to interrupt him again. He was prepared to hit him if he did. Good intentions or not, Thestalos didn't want anyone bothering him unless he needed them to.
"You wouldn't have liked me anyway."
Thestalos smirked at his little thought, and chuckled quietly to himself. It wasn't that it was funny, but more how absurd it was that he'd let it get to that point in real life, and found it difficult think otherwise, even when people didn't know him, and he could be whoever he wanted.

A young man with an old man's eyes walked down the dirt path, to fight the future by himself.