No, no it is not.

Authors note: Here we are, chapter fifty! Who knew my nerdy smut story would come this far? At average chapter word-count, that's around 100,000 words, which is a bunch (at least for me)! And we still haven't left this bloody forest yet! (SOON).

This is a huge milestone for me, so I wanted to take a moment to say a few thank you's. First, I would like to say a huge thank you to all my readers who've stuck with me thus far. As a total novice author, it honestly means so much that you take the time to read what I write. Some of you apparently enjoy it, too, but I won't hold that against you! :P

A big shout-out goes to the lovely folks who comment regularly. I look forward to hearing from you every time I post a chapter, even if it's just to point out my horrendous editing skills :). Another shout-out goes to my buddy, JZ01. If you haven't already, you should totally go check out 'The World of Fucknowswhat', it's a great read.

If you would like to support my writing, feel free to lob something at me over on Buy me a coffee. There is zero obligation to do so, I fully intend to keep writing either way, but the option is there if you'd like to use it.

I'll stop rambling now. I hope everyone enjoys the chapter!

Love and kisses, H.B.

The drizzle started mid-morning, a steady, ever present downpour that was more irritating than uncomfortable. We made the best of it, pulling raincoats out of our inventory to ward off the worst of the wet. Spirits were high, despite the slight rain. The outfit system was a godsend, allowing us to wear our more comfortable hiking clothes, secure in the knowledge that we could switch to our armour at a moment’s notice.

It’s a couple of hours after lunch when the heavens opened. One moment there's a steady drizzle, the next, a full on downpour. I’m English, and lived in Scotland for a few years, but even I thought the amount of rain was excessive, it was that damned heavy. Still, our now considerably less merry band of adventurers trudged, or more accurately squelched, onwards, all of us determined to find civilisation.

“Remind me why we aren’t stopping again?” Grumbled Emily, fully aware of the reason, but wanting an excuse to moan. “We can either be cold, wet and miserable in the tents, or be cold, wet, and miserable whilst making some progress towards some hot food and a warm bed. Our tents can handle a little rain, but this? We’d be soaked through before it got dark, let alone by tomorrow.” Says mum, with the patience of a saint.

Em sighs, but has the good grace not to gripe any further. I open my mouth, intending to offer some form of encouragement, but am cut off as, from somewhere off in the forest and only slightly muffled by distance, we hear a shrill, agonised scream. We pause, exchanging looks, each of us thinking the exact same thing. ‘Was that… a scream?’ Then the sound came again, removing all doubt.

In an instant, we were hurtling through the trees, our armour and weapons flashing into being as we run full tilt towards the source of the sound. I see the same resolve I feel mirrored in the eyes of my party, my family. My arms and legs pump, heart hammering in my chest as horrible visions of wargs and goblins tearing into innocent flesh run through my mind. I won't let that happen, not today, not if I could help it. “Adam!”

Broken from my revery, I turn to look over my shoulder, and am startled when I see both Ash and Lisa barely keeping up with me and Em and Mum a considerable distance behind us. ‘How fast was I running?!?’ Angrily pushing the unhelpful thought aside, I reach a snap decision. Whilst heading into this unknown situation with our full strength was the tactically sound play, every second could be precious. “Em, Mum, I’m going ahead with Ash and Lisa. Catch up with us as soon as you can.”

Decision made, I drop my speed a little until I’m keeping pace with Ash and Lisa. The girls nod in acknowledgement, their faces masks of determination as the three of us focus on speed. Finally, we reach the source of the noise, bursting out from between the trees. I glance about frantically, taking in the scene before me.

We were in a small meadow ringed by the forest, the space devoid of other trees bar one notable exception. In the centre of the clearing stands a truly massive tree, growing well above the tops of the surrounding forest. Movement at the base of the massive tree catches my eye. Shifting my focus, I see them, five goblins with their backs to us. So far, they haven't noticed us. Instead, one hastily reloads a crossbow, whilst the four slowing advance towards a figure huddled at the base of the tree, two of the goblins brandishing weapons, whilst the remaining two brandish nets.

Slumped against the base of the tree and trying desperately to rise, I see a familiar harpy, her white feathers dyed by slowly spreading patches of red where three bolts protrude from her flesh. Whether by chance or on purpose, the goblins have cut off her best method of escape, the bolt lodged in her slender shoulder rendering the wing on that arm useless. She attempts to rise again, but the second bolt, one lodged in her thigh, causes the leg to fail. She buckles back to the ground with a pained squawk, glaring up at her aggressors, useless wing dangling by her side whilst the other cradles the third bolt, the one imbedded in her gut.

The goblin advance is slow, full of caution, and for good reason. The boldest amongst the goblins already lies face up not too far from the tree, belly torn open by the harpy’s powerful talons, entirely unmoving. It’s clear to see their caution is coming to an end, however, the goblins spurned towards action by the harpy’s apparent weakness. We needed to act, and we needed to act now.

“Lisa, archer! Ash, close quarters with me, let’s go!” Beside me, Lisa skids to a halt, already drawing an arrow from her quiver. Not slowing our headlong rush, Ash and I beeline towards the goblin’s left flank, towards the two with weapons. My hope is that by shifting left, Lisa will get a better shot towards the crossbowman in the middle, and this proves true. A Minor Ice Spike has only just formed in my offhand when an arrow, black as pitch, flies past me on the right, hitting Lisa’s intended target centre mass.

The goblin hisses in surprise and pain, dropping the freshly cocked crossbow as inky tendrils slowly spread from its wound. I have very little time to wonder at the effect, as the goblin is already wheeling around, hand going for a blade tucked into its belt. Before the panicking goblin has a chance to lay a hand on its weapon, a second arrow finds its throat, ending any threat the creature posed to us.

Hearing the dying gurgle of their comrade, the rest of the goblins finally react to our presence. The disorganised group turn to face their new attackers, only to recoil as they see the pair humans baring down on them, fury etched into every line of our being. The goblin ahead of me fumbles with its buckler and shortsword, frantically readying itself to receive my charge, only to recoil as my prepped Ice spike punches through its shitty armour, sinking deep into the creature’s upper chest.

Severely off balance, the goblin stumbles backwards. Its shield arm strays away from its torso as the goblin instinctively tries to catch itself, giving me all the room I could ever need to plunge my spear into its chest. I’m happy to oblige, letting loose a savage roar as my weapon finds its mark. Yanking my spear backwards, I dislodge the now weakly struggling goblin, letting it fall bonelessly to the floor.

I glance towards the net wielding goblins, noting that they were currently distracted by arrow shaped problems of their own, then over to Ash, nodding in relief when I see her now headless opponent flop to the floor. With a moment to spare, I take the time required to thrust down into my opponent, ending them for good. This overwhelming display proves too much for the remaining pair of goblins, who drop their nets and turn tail to flee. They get less than twenty metres before they are cut down by a hail of arrows and spells.

As soon as the last goblin drops, I am running towards the harpy, weapons stowed. Seeing my rapid approach, she weakly hisses at me, eyes wide with pain and terror. Skidding to a halt, I hold my hands out in front of me and, in the most soothing tone I can muster, I say, “hey, shhhhh, it’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you, but you’ve got to let me help you, okay?” I inch towards her, only to recoil as she hisses again and weakly tries to rise.

Cursing softly, I consider my options. A dumb idea pops to mind, but, with bugger all else to do, I decide to give it a go. Ever so slowly, making sure my hands are in full view, I summon my dagger, one that I’d ‘borrowed’ from the previous group of goblins. The harpy squawks in alarm when she sees the blade, but her alarm quickly shifts to a look of confusion as I use the small weapon to slice open my left palm. I wince as the cold metal parts my flesh. Ignoring the droplets of blood that spill from the wound, I stow the weapon.

Right hand now free, my hand flows through the gestures required for Minor Heal Wounds on its lowest power setting. Releasing the spell, I sigh in relief as the wound in my palm knits itself back together. Retrieving a waterskin from my inventory, I wash the blood from my hand, showing the wounded harpy the undamaged skin.

Slowly, ever so slowly, I being to approach again. Her terrified eyes dart from my hand to my face, searching for any malice or ill intent. Finding none, she keeps stock still, eyeing me warily as I slowly crouch down beside her. Keeping my movements slow, I stretch a hand out towards her, but stop before touching her. “May I?”

I get the feeling she doesn’t understand the words, but my meaning is clear enough. She nods weakly. Permission granted, I lay my hand on the pale skin of her stomach. She looks up at me, her breathing rapid and shallow, her skin cold and clammy to the touch. I’m no doctor, but even I know that’s a bad sign. With a new sense of urgency, I activate my Medical Analysis Ability.

0----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------0

Medical Analysis activated…

Analysis successful

*Warning*: Patient critical, generating Critical Analysis report…

0----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------0

“LADIES, I NEED HELP OVER HERE!” Responding to the urgency in my voice, Ash and Lisa dash towards me as I run through a mental checklist. ‘Right, need to remove the bolts before I can heal her, but need to slow the bleeding whilst the first few spells take effect. She’s passed out. Which is probably for the best. This will hurt, a lot, and her moving will only make things worse.’

I hear rapid footfalls approaching. Looking up at my sisters, I say, “Grab a spare shirt from your inventory, then get down here. I’ll remove the bolts. You apply pressure to slow the bleeding.” Looking up between the two women, I note one nervous look, and one look of determination. I reach a snap decision. “Ash, be ready to apply pressure to her thigh, Lisa, her gut.” They hastily follow my instructions, both women poised over their assigned injury.

“Ash first, then Lisa, then I’ll pull the bolt in her shoulder and start immediate healing. Ready?” Ash and Lisa nod in response. Murmuring a prayer to any god or goddess that happens to be passing by in the **** hope that the bolts don’t have barbed tips, I grasp the bolt in the harpy’s leg, then pull. The bolt slides clear cleanly, the tip clearly not barbed. As soon as the bolt is free, Ash springs forward, applying pressure to the wound.

The other two bolts also slide clear without issue, with Lisa quickly applying pressure to the gut wound. As soon as the last bolt is removed from the harpy’s flesh, my hands immediately flow through the gestures required for my healing spell. The first spell finishes, sending a pulse of healing energy flowing through the Harpy’s body, where it is immediately put to work knitting together the worst internal injury.

The single spell is not nearly enough, but I am practically full of Mana. Time and time again, I cast my spell, watching as the bleeding steadily slows to a trickle, then stops all together. Even when all her surface wounds close, I keep casting, desperately worried about the internal bleeding. On the eighth cast, I pause, panting heavily. At 70 Mana a pop, I have enough juice in the tank to cast the spell two more times, but my last cast felt different, almost as if the pulse of healing energy had nothing to latch on to.

'Is she...?' My fuzzy mind panics for half a moment, my thoughts sluggish after using so much Mana at once, but it only took a brief glance to see that my patient was still breathing, even if she was still out for the count. Taking a moment to steady myself, I then cast Cleansing Waters, twice. I’d heard stories of gut wounds and how bloody awful they were. Sepsis is no joke, and wasn't in the mood to take chances.

My healing done, I tiredly hold my crimson covered hands out to Ash, who graciously fires off a cleaning spell at me, having already done so for herself and Lisa. Now clean, I congratulate Ash and Lisa, give a tried thumbs up when I spot Em and Mum, who must’ve arrived whilst we were busy healing, then glance down and the now peaceful face of the Harpy. Sighing, I scoop her up in my arms, then stand up straight, noting with tired, absent-minded interest that, whilst she was slightly lighter than a human of the same size (I think), the difference wasn’t overly notable.

I turn to my family, then have to fight down a wave of self-consciousness when I see the indulgent smiles on their faces. Shrugging, I say, “Well, it’s not as if I was going to leave her here. What if more goblins show up, or something else, like a bear?” Ash offers me a weary smile, a slender eyebrow raised as she asks, “a bear…?” I roll my eyes, then reply, “less dissension in the ranks, please! We need to get moving. Hop to it people! Let’s loot and scoot!” After a snort of amusement from Ash, and a round of ironic ‘aye-aye sirs’ from everyone else, they set to it.