It only took about half an hour or so of walking for him to recognize the area where they had fought. That struck him as a bit strange, he had never even really gone camping and could get lost on campus if he wasn’t paying attention, yet he had the unwavering sense that this was the place that he was looking for. He chalked it up to dryadic nature magic shenanigans, and looked around briefly before spotting the corpse.
Leaves had fallen and partially covered the lumpy pile, but even at a distance, he could tell that something wasn’t quite right. Moving closer cautiously and looking around for any signs of the dead monster’s friends, his eyes widened in shock when he finally understood what he was looking at. Instead of a ferocious beast with thick muscles, all that was left was a skeleton. He only really knew it was the one that he had killed because the spear was still lodged firmly in the weather bleached skull.
“Damn… that would mean… no… that’s impossible…” Xander muttered to himself as the implications of what he was looking at washed through him. It was technically possible that some sort of magic had stripped the creature’s flesh off, but the simple explanation matched what the story that the colorful leaves of autumn told. He hadn’t fought for his survival yesterday, he had fought for it months ago, possibly years. He didn’t really know how fast a dead body decayed in the woods, but it was certainly more than a handful of hours, and the change in season that he had been trying to block out of his mind certainly backed that up.
Along with the flesh, pretty much anything else that could have been of use to Xander was also ruined and degraded. Even the spear looked weathered and a bit rusty, though it at least could probably still be used in a pinch. He stared at the skeleton for a long time, wrestling with his shock at the recent turn of events. The hectic fight for his life replayed in his mind, and he watched himself kill another sentient creature over and over. The part that worried him the most though was that he still didn’t feel bad about it. He knew he should, but between the bestial nature of the thing, and its repeated attempt on his life, he just couldn’t bring himself to feel like a bad guy.
“I really hope that doesn’t mean I’m a psychopath now… or is that sociopath?” he mused out loud “Whichever, I really don’t want to be that kind of guy… if… If I’m even really a guy anymore.” He groaned at the intrusive thoughts trying to bring him down, like they always had before. Even in his old life, he had always beaten himself down, and let others trample all over him, like that bastard roommate of his. Sudden anger washed through him at the thought of Jake. If that asshole hadn’t kicked him out of his own dorm room for about the hundredth time that semester, he wouldn’t be here now!
Xander growled irately and took control of his vine minion, then proceeded to curl it into a verdant fist and slam it into the ground over and over, letting his frustration and resentment loose. It was their fault! If Jake wasn't such a dickhead, he wouldn't have gotten splatted by a goddamn vending machine, and it was this piece of shit hyena bastard’s fault that it had gotten itself killed trying to fucking eat him like the rabid asshole it was! Rage boiled through him as he beat the vine into the soil and leaves and railed against all the idiots in his life, including himself.
After a time his ire petered out, and he let the control over the vine drop. He wasn’t even panting like if he had pitched a regular fit, even though it had felt like it was one of his own limbs driving into the ground, it had been driven by magic, not muscles. It was just another oddity of his new reality, and his mind was oddly detached as he examined the makeshift fist he had formed the vines into. It was beaten to hell, the fibers frayed and splitting all over the place, while the soil was hardly disturbed. He frowned at that, and remembered how easily the spear wielding creature had sliced through vines and roots alike.
If Xander was going to rely on his plant powers for protection, he would need to find some way to strengthen both their punching power and ability to take a hit. He hadn’t really seen anything in his advancement options that would have helped his spells become more dangerous like that, so maybe it had been a mistake to drop all of his points into magic after all. He could have given himself a pretty good head start on strength, and the spear was still probably usable for that matter. He wasn’t trained in anything resembling combat, but his improvised weapon passive ability should help there.
Staring at the skull and spear, Xander was suddenly struck by the odd beauty of the scene. Maybe it wouldn’t have been beautiful to normies, but any of his goth friends would have appreciated it. A nearly fully intact skeleton of a fearsome alien beast with a spear thrust through its skull. The artist in him twitched, and he suddenly had the desire to rearrange the bones into a sitting position, buddha style. It would be ironic, placing the remains of the slavering beast into a position representative of peace and enlightenment. He had used the bones of birds and rodents to create a few sculptural art pieces for art projects, this would only be on a bigger scale.
He considered how he would go about it, but didn’t have any glue, screws, or wire to keep it bound together. With a sigh, he was about to discard the whole project as a fanciful whim and get back to the business of trying to survive, when inspiration struck like a thunderbolt from a clear blue sky. Xander’s eyes lit up, and his cackles filled the forest in a way that would have sent chills down the spine of anyone unfortunate enough to be nearby.
—--------------------------------
Being a bandit was an odd combination of extreme boredom combined with more hard work than Clovis had anticipated. If he had known that he was going to have to do all the work of setting up a place to hide on different parts of the road every day, followed by long periods of vigilant watch, he would have told Samson to stuff his ‘brilliant’ idea. The whole point for him was to get out of doing an honest day’s labor, not to bake in the sun while keeping awake. Luckily it was fall, so it wasn’t quite as hot, but he definitely had a nasty sunburn building up on his shoulders over the last couple days.
Still, it wasn’t all bad, and sometimes he even managed to sneak in a nap here and there. Not today though. So maybe he was zoning out a bit, but he was at least managing to stay mostly awake and keep an eye on the road for possible targets, or trouble. That was the other bad part about being a bandit, you always had to be on watch for some adventurer with a stick up their ass, or one of the infrequent patrols from a larger city, or even just a well guarded caravan. It was enough to really make a guy stress out when he should be enjoying the easy life.
Naturally, when he spotted a pair of figures in the distance, Clovis perked up a bit. Sure, it was kind of unusual that they were coming out of the forest rather than down the path, but people often went hunting for their suppers. On the other hand, when he squinted and put a hand up to block the afternoon sun to get a better look, his blood ran cold, and he stammered “N…N…N.. Necromancer!!” as he saw the lumbering zombie making its way towards them with the slow inevitably of the grave. Ropy green intestines hung out of its midsection, and something slithered hideously in the vacant eye sockets. The soil of its grave still stuck to the bones as it shambled forward, a grisly spear gripped in one undead hand.
The foul sorcerer hid behind its abominable minion, but he caught sight of sickly pale green skin here and there, though never enough to make a good target for an arrow. “The hell did you say?” asked Samson, walking up closer and peering in the direction Clovis was pointing. “It’s a necromancer, we need to get the hell out of here!” Clovis babbled, panic heavy in his voice. Samson snorted as he took in the sight of the single lone undead still walking slowly towards them. “Calm down you idiot, it's clearly a shitty necromancer, they ain’t got no army, and they’re hiding behind their only minion like a coward. Hell, we’ll be heroes if we kill it. We can turn the body in at the adventurers guild for more coins than a month’s worth of banditry!”
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Clovis was surprised by how calm his partner in crime was at first, but he had to admit that Samson had a point. Thinking about it more calmly, one shambling undead was hardly a real threat, and then too the guild had an outstanding bounty on all necromancers, one significant enough to buy good food and drinks for months. And making easy money was the whole reason they were out here. A smile started to spread on his face at the thought of taking it easy for a while, and he nodded to his fellow bandit “Alright, lets get paid…”
—--------------------------
Shuffling along behind his newest creation, Xander felt incredibly awkward. His cheeks would have heated with embarrassment if that was still a thing his body could do. He had no idea what a couple of guys were doing lazing around just off what looked like a well traveled road in the middle of the day, but they were wearing leather armor of some sort and had bows, so they were probably hunters taking a break? Either way, he still didn’t have any clothes, which meant that he didn’t exactly have a lot of choices. Hiding behind his planty minion was the only thing he could think of to do to retain any modesty for the time being.
Xander was actually really proud of his creation; it had taken quite a bit of experimentation and effort to make it all work. In the end he had used his growth spell to make a vine grow quite long, and then taken direct control of that vine in order to wrap it through the skeleton in a very particular way to make it all hold together. Then he had commanded “Without letting go of any bones, copy my movements by flexing.” That was part of what made the walking so ungainly. The vine copied him, but on delay, so he kept running into its back, which it then also tried to copy.
Still, under that simple command they had made it out of the woods finally, and there were now people to try to talk to. People who were now coming this way… with weapons in hand and ugly smiles on their faces. Come to think of it, would hunters really need armor? Xander had a sinking feeling that maybe this interaction wouldn’t be as pleasant as he had hoped. Maybe it was something to do with the skeleton armor his minion wore? Mmmm… perhaps it was best to get out ahead of the problem.
“Hey there guys, hold on a second!” he called out, poking his head around the side of his creation and waving a hand in a friendly manner, trying to inject false cheer into his voice. It came out a bit flat because of his fear and discomfort, but he tried to smile anyway as he greeted them. “I know this might look a bit strange, but I’m in kind of a bad situation, and I was hoping you guys could help me out?”
Their first response was to draw their bows and fire arrows at him, followed quickly by a shout of “DIE NECROMANCER SCUM!” from the first one he had seen. Ducking behind the only cover available, Xander couldn’t help but sigh. Even in this world it seemed like he would be berated for his love of the gothic aesthetic. Using the gnoll’s bones provided structure, stability, and some armor for his vine puppet, a perfect union of form and function. He wished Morticia was here, she would have loved everything about this.
“Alright, first off, I’m not a Necromancer!!” he yelled out to them, “So could you just fucking not shoot at me? Second, how the hell are you speaking English?” Another arrow immediately plinked off the skeleton’s ribs while the other flew wide. “Just give up, ya spooky bitch, and we’ll make it a nice and quick end for ya!” sneered the second man, totally ignoring Xander’s questions rudely. “Yeah! What he said!” the first guy chipped in, before asking “Uhhh… wait… what in the Void is English? Aren’t we speaking Rathian?” in a somewhat confused tone. “Shut up moron, don’t talk to her, just do your damned job.”
Xander mentally dubbed them Idiot and Asshat as another pair of arrows landed with a dull thunk in the chest area of his minion. He could feel that those two had done some actual damage to the vine this time, and pressed a palm against the exposed spine, letting energy flow from his core to heal the ‘wounds’. The arrows popped out as the vines healed, and there was some cursing from Asshat. Peeking out at the men through an armpit, he saw them pulling out swords and moving even closer. This was stupid, he didn’t want to fight them, especially over a misunderstanding! Time for one more try at peace.
“Look you assholes, I’m really not a necromancer or whatever, I’m more like a druid if I had to make a guess. I just need some directions to the nearest town, and maybe some clothes!” Xander said, his frustration coloring his words somewhat. “Just point the way and I’ll get out of your hair”.
“Uhhh, you sure we should still attack, boss?” Idiot asked Asshat, seeming to have second thoughts. “What the hell do I look like? A helpful town guard?” Asshat responded “We’re fucking bandits, and that’s our payday… so get in there and kill the unholy whore before I have to find a new partner!”
Xander’s anger roared to life somewhere deep inside. He just couldn’t get away from cruel jocks no matter which world he was in apparently. Add on top of that the insensitive slurs, and his fear and embarrassment were washed away in a rising tide of rage. It’s not like he asked to be some kind of plant woman! It wasn’t his fault that he didn’t have a better way to protect himself, and besides, his minion was the coolest thing he had made in a long time! And these self proclaimed bandits wanted to murder him to make money somehow? Well fuck these guys then!
Reaching for the magical connection to the vine, he took total control of it. Doing so wasn’t easy, the vine was big and woven into the skeleton in a relatively complex manner. Instead of getting the feeling of a third limb like the first time he had used the spell, this was more akin to having two whole bodies at the same time, except that they were radically different from each other. Annnddd there was one other little minor, teeny tiny, itsy bitsy issue.
Xander groaned “Shush!! I need to concentrate, and it's already difficult!!”. The vine quieted down, but he could still feel its excitement burbling in the back of his mind as he juggled trying to control both his bodies at the same time. There was no way that he could trust the simple plant to be effective at fighting on its own, it could barely copycat his movements. The bandits were right on top of him now, so it was now or never. Trying to split his attention felt both unusual and uncomfortable, but it was the best chance that he had at survival. He made his real body curl up on the ground defensively so that he could focus most of his mind on driving the bone armored plant body.
There was some weird magic at play because he could get a blurry black and white sense of the area nearby the vine, so he saw the sword from Asshat swinging in towards him. Instinctively raising his left arm to block, Xander felt the blade cut through some of the vines there and then lodged in the bone. He could sense the damage, but not the pain of the wound, so he simply hefted the spear with the other arm and stabbed it straight into the bandit’s chest with no fanfare. The man was unable to block thanks to his weapon being lodged in a boney forearm and let out a surprised grunt as he fell to his knees.
“Samson! Nooooooooooo!” yelled the other man, fear and rage in his voice, as he slashed wildly at Xander’s puppet. Unfortunately for Xander, the vine didn’t have a ton of strength to begin with, and the dying man accidentally pulled it out of his grasp as he toppled over, leaving him no real weapon. Idiot declined to live up to his nickname, and seeing that the ‘undead monster’ was disarmed, went for the curled up body of the ‘necromancer’ with a raging cry of “Die you evil witch!!”.
Xander didn’t have the time to point out that it was the bandit who had attacked, that he wasn’t a witch, or evil for that matter, and that he would have just been happy to walk away. This time the pain was real as the much stronger bandit knocked away the defending limbs and slashed his sword across Xander’s real back. He cried out in agony as his spine was torn open and amber blood went flying, but he wasn’t going to let himself die without fighting back either. Even as the bandit hacked at him again, screaming about the loss of his compatriot, Xander fought through the pain and sent more brown growth mana flowing into the vines, almost totally draining his mana pool.
New growth erupted from the abdomen of his creation and began wrapping around the bandit. “I’ll kill you, I’ll kill you, I’ll ki-urrrhhkk~” The man’s irate cries were cut off as green tendrils wrapped around his throat and began to squeeze. He fought and flailed for a minute before he too stopped moving and hung limply. Still in some of the worst pain of his life from the deep gashes on his back, Xander let go of his magical control, then began to sob.