Scoobie
BLACKJACK!
This is a short story about my character, Garrick. This serves as my entry for Isekai Hell's Community Event for January 2024.
In a rustic village along the borders of Ryken, Garrick, the scaly nomadic wanderer, embarked on an unlikely quest. Despite not owning own, he sought to master the art of wielding an axe. His journey began with a makeshift wooden stick with a pointy rock tied into place using some vine. Definitely a far cry from the menacing blades he envisioned.
"What's a warrior without a proper axe, eh?" he mused to the curious onlookers as he swung his strange stick weapon awkwardly in the village square. His nonchalant charm and tactless humor drew a small crowd, and soon, he found himself surrounded by villagers intrigued by his unorthodox approach.
Days turned into weeks, and Garrick's wooden stick transformed from a clumsy prop into an extension of himself. He stumbled, tripped, and accidentally hit himself more times than he could count. Yet, his tenacity was unwavering and in the end, it had prevailed, and his movements became more fluid.
One evening, by the flickering light of a campfire, he declared proudly with a grin, "I may not have an axe yet, but I reckon this stick's learnin' a thing or two 'bout being fierce."
Amused villagers nodded in agreement, and Garrick continued his peculiar training routine. He mimicked swings, lunges, and spins, all while sharing tales of his imagined battles with fearsome beasts. His nonchalant demeanor and infectious enthusiasm turned the learning process into a village spectacle.
As the weeks unfolded, whispers of the scaly wanderer's unconventional axe-less training spread beyond the confines of the village. Travelers passing through would recount the amusing sight of Garrick and his wooden companion, garnering both laughter and admiration.
One day, a passing blacksmith took notice. Intrigued by Garrick's determination, he approached with a genuine axe, offering it as a loan for the scaly warrior's unconventional training.
"Guess I'll be givin' this proper piece of metal a go," Garrick exclaimed, eyeing the gleaming blade. With newfound enthusiasm, he embraced the genuine axe, feeling the weight and balance in his hands.
The villagers watched in awe as Garrick's clumsy but determined movements transformed. He swung, parried, and twirled the axe with surprising grace. The makeshift warrior evolved into a skilled amateur, his progress evident to all.
The blacksmith, witnessing the transformation, couldn't help but chuckle. "Aye, you might not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but you've got a knack for this."
Garrick grinned, replying, "Well, ain't that somethin'. Maybe I'm more than just a talker after all."
As weeks turned into more weeks, Garrick honed his newfound skills. The village square became his training ground, filled with the clinks and clatters of the borrowed axe. Villagers gathered not only for entertainment but also to witness an unexpected journey of self-improvement.
However, the borrowed axe came with a looming expiration date. The blacksmith, needing it for his livelihood, kindly requested its return.
Garrick sighed, patting the axe as if bidding farewell to an old friend. "Guess it's time to part ways, my trusty borrowed companion. But fear not, I'll find a real one soon enough."
Determined, Garrick decided to head to the capital in search of a weapon he could call his own. The villagers bid him farewell, grateful for the entertaining interlude he brought to their lives.
In the capital, the bustling market presented an array of gleaming axes. Garrick's eyes sparkled with anticipation, but reality struck hard when he realized his meager coin pouch wouldn't suffice.
Undeterred, he approached the merchants, trying to haggle and charm his way into a deal. Alas, his strange but unique brand of charisma couldn't conjure coins out of thin air.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, Garrick found himself axe-less in the capital square. Disappointed but not defeated, he chuckled to himself, "Looks like my journey ain't over just yet. Maybe I'll stumble upon a treasure chest full of axes or somethin'."
With a final wave to the gleaming weapons in the market, Garrick left the capital, his laughter echoing through the night.
And so, the scaly wanderer continued his quest without a weapon of his own, embracing the unpredictability of his unconventional journey. For Garrick, it wasn't about the axe he wielded but the lessons learned and the stories woven in each swing, making his tale as unique as the beastman himself.
In a rustic village along the borders of Ryken, Garrick, the scaly nomadic wanderer, embarked on an unlikely quest. Despite not owning own, he sought to master the art of wielding an axe. His journey began with a makeshift wooden stick with a pointy rock tied into place using some vine. Definitely a far cry from the menacing blades he envisioned.
"What's a warrior without a proper axe, eh?" he mused to the curious onlookers as he swung his strange stick weapon awkwardly in the village square. His nonchalant charm and tactless humor drew a small crowd, and soon, he found himself surrounded by villagers intrigued by his unorthodox approach.
Days turned into weeks, and Garrick's wooden stick transformed from a clumsy prop into an extension of himself. He stumbled, tripped, and accidentally hit himself more times than he could count. Yet, his tenacity was unwavering and in the end, it had prevailed, and his movements became more fluid.
One evening, by the flickering light of a campfire, he declared proudly with a grin, "I may not have an axe yet, but I reckon this stick's learnin' a thing or two 'bout being fierce."
Amused villagers nodded in agreement, and Garrick continued his peculiar training routine. He mimicked swings, lunges, and spins, all while sharing tales of his imagined battles with fearsome beasts. His nonchalant demeanor and infectious enthusiasm turned the learning process into a village spectacle.
As the weeks unfolded, whispers of the scaly wanderer's unconventional axe-less training spread beyond the confines of the village. Travelers passing through would recount the amusing sight of Garrick and his wooden companion, garnering both laughter and admiration.
One day, a passing blacksmith took notice. Intrigued by Garrick's determination, he approached with a genuine axe, offering it as a loan for the scaly warrior's unconventional training.
"Guess I'll be givin' this proper piece of metal a go," Garrick exclaimed, eyeing the gleaming blade. With newfound enthusiasm, he embraced the genuine axe, feeling the weight and balance in his hands.
The villagers watched in awe as Garrick's clumsy but determined movements transformed. He swung, parried, and twirled the axe with surprising grace. The makeshift warrior evolved into a skilled amateur, his progress evident to all.
The blacksmith, witnessing the transformation, couldn't help but chuckle. "Aye, you might not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but you've got a knack for this."
Garrick grinned, replying, "Well, ain't that somethin'. Maybe I'm more than just a talker after all."
As weeks turned into more weeks, Garrick honed his newfound skills. The village square became his training ground, filled with the clinks and clatters of the borrowed axe. Villagers gathered not only for entertainment but also to witness an unexpected journey of self-improvement.
However, the borrowed axe came with a looming expiration date. The blacksmith, needing it for his livelihood, kindly requested its return.
Garrick sighed, patting the axe as if bidding farewell to an old friend. "Guess it's time to part ways, my trusty borrowed companion. But fear not, I'll find a real one soon enough."
Determined, Garrick decided to head to the capital in search of a weapon he could call his own. The villagers bid him farewell, grateful for the entertaining interlude he brought to their lives.
In the capital, the bustling market presented an array of gleaming axes. Garrick's eyes sparkled with anticipation, but reality struck hard when he realized his meager coin pouch wouldn't suffice.
Undeterred, he approached the merchants, trying to haggle and charm his way into a deal. Alas, his strange but unique brand of charisma couldn't conjure coins out of thin air.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, Garrick found himself axe-less in the capital square. Disappointed but not defeated, he chuckled to himself, "Looks like my journey ain't over just yet. Maybe I'll stumble upon a treasure chest full of axes or somethin'."
With a final wave to the gleaming weapons in the market, Garrick left the capital, his laughter echoing through the night.
And so, the scaly wanderer continued his quest without a weapon of his own, embracing the unpredictability of his unconventional journey. For Garrick, it wasn't about the axe he wielded but the lessons learned and the stories woven in each swing, making his tale as unique as the beastman himself.
