"That was a good junk fight." Nutnug said.

  The Skav completely ignored his shoulder wound, letting the gash flow freely. Reddish-purple blood descended his arm to drip upon the grass like rain. Despite it at all, the fight, the injury and the prior battle — Nutnug just smiled. A jovial goblinoid was happy, truly happy. That was until another Skav arrived and bonked him on the head with a club.

  "What the?" I said, glancing back and forth between the two.

  The guy just strolled up to us, didn't spare a glance at me and promptly clubbed Nutnug over the head. And the injured Skav didn't seem to react at all, no counterattack, no anger. Just a brief muttering of ouch and it was back to grinning at me. Was this a ritual among his kind? Some sort of special "I am defeated" ritual? So many questions raced through my head before I voiced them.

  "What's with the club?"

  "This good junk club of hurt go away." He explained, raising way more questions.

  That was all answered when I noticed out of the corner of my eye his wound. The Skavs' bloody shoulder was slowly knitting itself together in real time. Bleeding had stopped, and the gash was still open, but just barely. Flesh clawed its way across the chasm, desperately stretching over to scab. I looked on in fascination, not at the wound. I had seen too many regenerations to be surprised, but not with a club. Curiosity took me and my Inspect skill activated by reflex.

  [Club of Hurt Go Away. Description: Big club to make hurts go bye-bye. Enchantment: Restore Health.]

  "Well, I'll be damned! That club can heal people you hit with it." I blurted out, flabbergasted beyond belief. I had to call out to my comrades. "Hey guys, these Skavs have a magic club that heals you when they hit someone!"

  "Manticore dung! Really?" Xyn cursed.

  "Yeah, hey do you need to bonk people on the head to make it work?" I excitedly questioned the new Skav.

  He looked back at me, hesitated before eyeing Nutnug, who gave him a sharp nod. That seemed to placate the young Skav, who seemed to capitulate to my former dueling companion. The fight lost to me, my sword already at my side, I scrutinised the club-wielding healer.

  "Bonks on the head make heals fast." Another squeaky voice, as if uttered by a child on helium.

  "So, the healing powers are more effective if you aim for vital locations." I said less to him and more to myself.

  I wondered if the system magic runs off the principles of vital nodes. Using them as entry points to spread healing energy throughout the body. Having not observed the process with the eyes of the system, I couldn't be sure how it worked. But based on a few guesses, I suspect it triggers a healing process in the body and supplies the energy. No idea if that is mana or raw system power. Could be one or the other... perhaps both?

  "We talk at camp, come." Nutnug gestured for us to follow, and I did without hesitation.

  So enamoured of the strange artefacts these Skavs possessed. My mind churned with the possibilities, palms grew sweaty, and I licked my lips as if dying of thirst. I nearly missed the protestations of my companions as I walked by them, so entranced.

  "Are we just going to follow a Skav raiding party?" Xyn questioned, her blades still in hand.

  "I am with Xynthia. They are dangerous creatures." Rak agreed.

  Stopped in my tracks, I saw the Skavs continue on without a care in the world. I longed to follow, to take one of them aside and question the truth out of them. Study their artefacts and put their auras under a microscope. System anomalies were practically a rumour, so rare were they most of us didn't think they existed. And to find an entire race with such anomalous powers right here on Grimgard. The urge to study was strong, but not strong enough to override my sensibilities.

  "They are dangerous, but I believe they have enough of an honour code to be trusted not to kill us out of hand..." they looked at me sceptically, "if they turn out to be treacherous slit their throats and put arrows in them." I added, and they nodded, placated.

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  With my companions in tow, we followed Nutnug into the nearby forest, away from the dirt road. It was off the beaten path, but luckily we weren't on a timetable to reach the city. This brief detour was a welcome change of pace, something to investigate and a new race to study. I felt giddy with every step; I felt like blasting some upbeat pop song across the breadth of the forest. I restrained myself as we entered the woods and followed for roughly half an hour. Entering a clearing, we encountered a modest camp, clearly hastily built and temporary.

  Improvised huts made of leaves dotted haphazardly dotting the campsite. Small fires with lingering figures. Skavs both young and old were milling about. The children were the least productive members of the camp. Chaotically running about trying to catch each other in a mad dash. The adults were far more subdued, mostly gathered around campfires, tinkering with a variety of objects. Moving back and forth from a small hill at the centre of the camp.

  "That's not a hill?" I muttered aloud.

  "That is our junk." One of the raiding party spoke up.

  Indeed, it wasn't a hill; it was, in fact, a giant pile of junk. I could see at a glance a variety of objects messily piled on top of each other. Iron swords, broken spears, shields and much damaged weaponry. Misshapen metal and wood made up half of the pile, and it included quite a few discarded farming tools. The Skavs moved back and forth, reverently pausing in between extracting some piece of junk. They knelt before the pile, taking an object and then fleeing to a corner of the campsite with their prize in tow.

  "It's an impressive pile of junk." I complimented.

  "Yes, good junk. Now I must complete the ritual of defeat." Nutnug said before turning to me and presenting the spoon.

  Head bowed, with his fellow Skavs looking on, some aghast and others intrigued. They had put me on the spot, and I pondered what to do. One of the major issues in meeting new cultures is the concern that you may offend them with your ignorance. However, this race seemed simple, and that's not a criticism but a compliment. They liked to tinker with junk, fight, steal and eat. Based on everything I was seeing, they had achieved the simple life.

  "I accept your junk, gracious Nutnug." I carefully lifted the spoon from his grasp; his head rose with the loosening of his grip.

  "You won the junk fight, junk is yours." He affirmed.

  I nodded, eyes bulging and then narrowed in concentration. Eyes of the System was on full blast as I traced my gaze over every facet of the artefact. It glowed faintly in my vision, not a powerful artefact, nor exceptionally intricate. It was incredibly crude, and I suspect it would break down. The energy clung to the spoon as if hanging by a thread.

  "Come, we eat." Nutnug gestured to the fire.

  "I wonder what Skavs eat," Rak wondered aloud.

  "Hopefully, livestock and not human corpses." Xyn replied.

  "Is that a possibility?" I asked, eyes slightly widening.

  "Probably not..." she tilted her head. "I mean, goblins eat corpses, so Skavs might, but I haven't heard of them doing so. They are the type to rob you rather than gut you."

  "Some robbery method, they shot me with an exploding arrow." I chuckled.

  "That was a stun arrow, typical Skav tactic to disable caravan drivers and guards. It's nonlethal as far as I know."

  I shrugged; the idea made sense. The explosion wasn't that bad, and so it stood to reason that the arrow stunned rather than exploding my head off. Bearing that in mind, I was a bit more confident in this venture, and we quickly followed along. Arriving at the campfire, I saw several figures milling about, eyes glued to whatever object held their interest. Nutnug grunted at one such enamoured Skav who was obsessively caressing an obsidian stone. It took several more grunts to get his attention and a few slaps over the head to get him to move.

  Now seated, watching the fire crackle and spit, the Skavs proved rather solemn and quiet dinner companions. Each of them had their eyes glued to their trinkets. Casually chewing charcoal meat put over a fire. It wasn't bad actually, and the three of us dug into what we assumed to be rabbit. Unable to help myself, I mimicked the Skavs surrounding me. My own eyes glued to the magical spoon I won in battle. Taking a few bites of the smoky meat, I studied the trinket with unconcealed fascination.

  "This is not bad; could use some spice." Xyn spoke to the side, but I ignored her.

  Through the system's eyes, I plumbed the depths of this artifact. Looking past the prompts and metadata, into the depths of this creation. It was messy, crude and had none of the elegance of a true system creation. However, there was a certain familiarity in its construction. It was akin to the relics the dungeons made, only lacking in direction. As far as I knew, dungeons were pre-programmed mana factories, the purpose to produce loot and monsters. Something gave them some leeway, although they followed specific parameters.

  "Interesting." I muttered.

  "What's interesting?" Xyn asked.

  "This artefact, weapon, whatever you want to call it. The item feels like a dungeon creation, but it's too messy." I replied fanatically.

  "Messy?" she said.

  "Yeah, like it was handcrafted, but using the methods the dungeons used." I turned to eye the surrounding Skavs. "These Skavs are like walking dungeon loot creators. I can't understand how they do it."

  The mystery was tantalising, and everything inside made me want to study it to death. That sounded worse than I thought. Putting them under a microscope was not workable; I doubt they would stand still long enough. Maybe if I gave them some junk to study... no, that was a stupid idea. Scratching my head, I spun back to the spoon. I was going to figure this out, no matter how long it took.

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