"...312 bottles of beer on the wall, 312 bottles of beer," Continued Nora, "Take one down and pass it around, 311 bottle of beer on the wall."
"...311 bottles of beer on the wall, 311 bottles of beer…" Nora droned, her voice wobbling between boredom and despair. "Take one down, pass it around - oh my god I am actually losing my mind."
Considering the unique way of summoning the status through 'Request state' there was a likely chance she had been thrown into that one mobile game half her salary ended up being poured into.
'Hero Of Oriculcam' Was your standard turn based gacha game, but it shone among others due to it's myriad of different story routes you could follow. While not classified as one, it excelled further than most tell-tale projects. There were whole forums dedicated to just singular routes.
Alright," she said to herself, trying to sound motivated even though her voice cracked. "Step one: get found. Step two: manipulate said plucky idiot into keeping me around."
But the problem was time. Weapons left abandoned in the wild didn't stay there forever. She remembered enough lore to know that the world's mana had a way of reclaiming unbound relics. Kind of like a clean-up system. If a relic went unbound for too long it would loose it's magical properties... Which in Nora's case, could even be her sense of consciousness.
She stared at her reflection again, muttering, "No pressure."
For now, all she could do was wait.
Minutes bled into hours. The puddle beside her rippled now and then, disturbed by a lazy breeze. Nora cycled between pep talks and self-loathing.
And then finally she heard something. Yelling? She paused straining her metaphorical ears to listen. Yup, definitely yelling, and it was getting closer.
Suddenly a cloaked man leapt from the underbrush and rolled along the ground before quickly getting back up. He was breathing heavily and was obviously injured from the stream of blood drooling down his face.
"Over Here!" Yelled Nora, "Can you hear me? Please tell me you can hear me!"
The man didn't respond if he did, but instead slowly backed up from where he had just came from. He reached for his sheath resting on his waist, and Nora watched in real time as his face paled in response to his hands grabbing nothing but air.
"Looks like you lost your sword, pal!" Called Nora, "But don't you worry your dark and mysterious head about it - turn around and get yourself your very own magic sword!"
Once again the man didn't hear Nora, and just when she had begun to brainstorm methods of getting his attention, heavy steps begun echoing from the bush the man came from. Both the man and the talking sword tensed up, even if they couldn't yet see the threat. It didn't remain this way for long as the creature slowly emerged.
With unnaturally long limbs, sickly pale skin and twisting inky black antlers. Nora recognised this creature immediately. What else could this beast be but the fearsome maneater - the wendigo.
Nora became concerned, while the wendigo was technically an early game enemy, it had still been the boss of the 2nd dungeon within the game. It was strong, and its fearsome bite attack had a more than annoying life steal effect... The intelligent sword begun to fear for this newcomer who was unlucky enough to fight the wendigo.
The man stumbled back a step, hand still frantically patting at his empty belt where his sword should've been. His wide, bloodshot eyes darted around, searching for anything, anything to defend himself with.
Nora wanted to scream. "I'M RIGHT HERE, YOU IDIOT! PICK ME UP BEFORE YOU BECOME DINNER!"
The wendigo tilted its head, lips peeling back in a grotesque grin as a growl rumbled deep in its throat. Then it lunged.
The man rolled, narrowly avoiding claws that shredded bark and earth where he'd just stood. His cloak tore against a branch, exposing a leather jerkin underneath soaked through with blood. He was slowing down. He wouldn't last.
"Hey! Hood-boy! Over here! Your protagonist moment is literally within arm's reach! Shiny, magical, sarcastic sword-me!"
The wendigo screeched, charging again.
Adrenaline-or whatever desperate cocktail was keeping him upright-kicked in. He dove, hand outstretched. But the man was just a moment too slow, because the wendigo had grabbed his ankle mid dive and pulled him back. Just as it was about to bite into the man's head the hooded fighter jammed his leather vambrace between the things teeth, and a struggle quickly begun.
The wendigo's jaws clamped down on the man's arm, teeth grinding against leather. He strained, one hand clawing through the dirt toward Nora.
"Yes! Grab me, grab me!" she shouted, willing herself closer. His fingers brushed her hilt, then clenched tight. Power surged through her.
With a desperate roar he swung her upward and drove her into the beast's chest. Metal scraped bone, but the wendigo barely flinched.
"Not the body, you idiot! The antlers!" Nora barked. "That's the weak spot-go for the head!"
The man's eyes widened, but before he could question which shrill voice just barked insights at him, the creature went again for another bite. This time the figure swung the sword straight through the beasts 'crown of bone' so to speak.
On contact the antlers snapped, but Nora felt a surge of pain through her own body at the same time.
'Right,' Thought Nora, 'I can put together why..."
The structural integrity of her new sword form was definitely worse for wear, targeting the strong antlers would probably do nothing but hurt her in this state. Granted the wendigo was now recoiling in pain and rolling around the ground defenceless, so Nora decided it to be a worthy sacrifice.
The man staggered back, still clutching Nora with trembling hands. His arm was mangled, his cloak torn to ribbons, but he pressed forward with a reckless determination.
He raised her again, this time driving her point-first into the monster's exposed throat while it writhed in pain. Nora felt the crunch of bone and the hot rush of ichor spill over her chipped edge. The wendigo convulsed once, twice, then collapsed in a heap, twitching before finally going still.
The clearing was quiet again - except for the ragged gasps of the man, who fell to his knees beside the corpse.
"Yes!" Nora cried, triumphant. "Victory! That's how you slay your first dungeon boss! Way to go, partner-we're practically unstoppable already!"
The man, however, didn't respond. He was staring down at her blade with a dazed look, chest heaving, sweat and blood dripping into the dirt.
"...Hello?" Nora tried again. "It's me, your brand-new, slightly rusty magical companion. The one who literally just coached you through not dying? You're welcome, by the way."
Still nothing. His grip tightened on her hilt, but his expression was blank.
"...Oh come on, don't tell me you've gone mute from shock already," Nora huffed. "Say something! Anything!"
Silence.
Growing anxious, she called out, "System! Request state!"
The purple translucent window flickered into being before her vision:
Name: ??? (Lost to time), Nora (Former)
Condition: Battered (Dire Need of Repair)
Rarity: Common Sword (8 ATK)
Skill(s): Contact-Based Telepathy (Cooldown Active – 120 minutes remaining)
Quest 1: Bind yourself to an owner
Status: Pending
Reward: Random Skill (Pending)
Quest 2: Recover from 'Battered' condition
Reward: Name
Nora blinked-or would have, if swords could blink.
"…Wait. Cooldown?!"
Her voice didn't echo out this time. The silence was complete.
"Oh no. Oh no, no, no…" she groaned inside her own mind. "It's an active skill? Not a passive? So every time I want to talk, I get a two-hour timeout!?"
Meanwhile, her new wielder wiped his blade-her-against the grass with grim efficiency, then staggered back to his feet after scooping up the horns of the fallen wendigo. They were admittedly the only parts of the beast worth any real money. Its hide, while tough, was only as strong as a hobo-goblins which could be hunted far more efficiently.
Its flesh was actually poisonous and its claws were rather fragile like glass. But the antlers had strong intrinsic abilities, in fact they were so strong that they granted the rare skill 'lesser regeneration' after being ground down into powder and consumed.
"Yes, yes, admire me. Bask in the glory of my… eight attack points," she thought sourly, still locked in cooldown silence.
The man swayed on his feet and muttered something under his breath. Then, with a sharp grunt, he staggered toward the treeline. His steps were uneven, but his grip never loosened from Nora's hilt.
That's right, buddy, she thought. You're stuck with me now. Congratulations on pulling the worst roll of your career.
It was a long, silent walk through the forest before they emerged onto a dirt path leading toward civilization. The scent of smoke and roasting meat drifted faintly on the air, telling Nora they were near a settlement.
At the sight of smoke, the man's pace quickened despite his obvious wounds. He limped down the road until wooden palisades came into view, lit faintly by torchlight. A village.