This is a brutal but necessary character-defining moment. It proves that Bjorn's "meta-knowledge" isn't just about monsters; it's about the dark nature of the game's world. In Dungeon & Stone, the greatest monsters aren't the ones in the caves—they're the ones sitting across the campfire.
I've tightened the tension of the betrayal and cleaned up the "barbarian heart" lore to make it feel even more chilling.
Revised Version: Chapter 2, Part 2The Snoring Barbarian
I started snoring. I imagined what a barbarian would sound like after an exhausting day of slaughtering goblins.
Honk—shooo—Honk!
Maybe it was a bit much, but then I heard a soft chuckle from across the fire.
"Truly, a curious person."
It worked. My looks were far more convincing than my acting. The common perception was that barbarians were simple-minded and stupid—innocent giants. I used that. I was a man hiding a dagger behind a dull, open-mouthed smile. It was a bit "middle-school edgy," sure, but in this world, being underestimated was a superpower.
Honkkkk!
I scratched my stomach for realism and curled onto my side, but every nerve was dialed into the man's movements. If he had an ulterior motive, he'd act now, while I was showing my throat. If not, I'd actually get some sleep.
"Bjorn, it's time to swap."
Wait, what?
"Don't let your guard down," Hans said, his voice friendly but firm. "Goblins are cunning creatures."
He lectured me for five minutes, essentially telling me not to be a lazy idiot, and then he fell back asleep. I felt a wave of profound disappointment. I'd spent two hours "fake" snoring when I could have been actually resting.
I sat there, staring into the dark. I was so tired I could die, but even though I'd decided Hans was likely trustworthy, my brain wouldn't let me sleep.
Hoo...
Eventually, the fatigue won. My head dipped. My eyes glazed over.
"Bjorn, get up."
I snapped awake. "I wasn't sleeping."
"Wipe the spit off your chin before you lie to me," Hans laughed.
My heart sank. I'd actually nodded off for the last ten minutes of his shift. I felt a surge of genuine guilt. A "night partner" was a business arrangement; he'd kept me safe, and I'd failed my end.
"I'm sorry," I said. This wasn't a barbarian act. It was a sincere apology. "I shouldn't have lapsed. You can sleep more—I'll take an extra shift."
"No, no," Hans smiled kindly. "Nothing happened, so it's fine. It's your turn. Give me the watch."
He forgave me with such a warm, friendly expression that I felt even worse. I curled up in my spot, trying to force myself to sleep. But as the minutes ticked by, the paranoia returned.
Honk. Honk.
I went back to the snoring act. I'm sorry, Hans, but you're just too nice. And nice guys are the ones who usually stab me in the back.
Why did he suggest a two-man group instead of three? Why didn't he smell as bad as a typical explorer? Why didn't he get angry when I fell asleep on duty? To a normal person, these were traits of a "good guy." To me, they were the traits of a con artist.
Click.
It was a tiny sound. A buckle? A heel? I couldn't identify it, but my barbarian body reacted before my brain did.
DANGER.
It was a physical sensation—an intent to kill so sharp it gave me goosebumps. I opened my eyes.
"It's your turn," Hans whispered.
He was smiling. But above his head, he held his two-handed hammer, caked in dried gore, poised to crush my skull.
The Cost of a Heart
My body rolled sideways before I could even process the sight.
BOOM!
The hammer smashed into the stone where my head had been a split second ago. I used the momentum to spring to my feet. Hans looked bewildered that his "simple" prey had moved.
"Wait! I can explain—"
I didn't wait. I lunged.
CRACK!
My shield caught him squarely under the chin. Hans was no goblin; he was a sturdy human. He staggered, blood spraying from his mouth, but he stayed up. I followed through immediately.
BAM!
"AAAGH!"
The hammer fell from his hands with a heavy thud. His nose was shattered, dripping red.
"Stop! Please!"
"Smash."
I slammed the shield into his face again and again until he collapsed to his knees, his hands shielding his head.
"Mister," I growled, standing over him.
"I was wrong! Please, mercy!"
"Why did you do it?"
"The mana stones!" he shrieked. "I just wanted the stones! I was going to knock you out and take them, I swear!"
"Trust me," he begged. It was pathetic.
"And the shield?" I asked, raising the iron edge of my buckler.
"Yes! The shield too! Barbarian gear sells for a high price in the city because of the iron content! I just wanted the money!"
It was a plausible lie, but it was still a lie. I stepped on his chest, pinning him down just like I had the goblin.
"The truth," I said, my voice cold. "Why did you do it?"
Fear—real, primal terror—filled his eyes. I felt nothing. This man had tried to murder me while I "slept."
"The heart!" he screamed. "Barbarian hearts! They sell for a fortune to the mages... they use them for some new ritual! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"
Ah. Now it makes sense.
I was a treasure chest to him. A big, dumb leprechaun filled with gold and expensive organs.
"Why wait until now? Why not when I actually fell asleep?"
"I... I had to sleep too," he wheezed. "I wanted to rest safely first, then kill you before we left. I thought... I thought it was efficient."
I almost laughed. He wasn't just a killer; he was an efficiency fanatic, just like me.
"Please... forgive me... I'll give you everything! My gear, my gold... I'll pay you back ten times over in the city!"
"Forgive you?" I looked at him. If I had been a second slower, I'd be a corpse with a hole in my chest right now. "Sir, in this world, you have to pay the price for your actions."
"I'll be different! I swear!"
I'd heard that before. Goblins probably said the same thing in their own tongue. I raised the shield high with both hands. I hesitated for a fraction of a second—the weight of taking a human life pressing down on me—but then I felt that "barbarian" instinct pull my arms down.
"No, you won't."
CRUNCH.
The silence that followed was heavy.
[Achievement Unlocked: First Murder] [Condition: Commit your first homicide.] [Reward: Spirit Stat permanently increased by +1.]
I didn't look away. I had been in this world for one day, and I had already killed a man.
I began to strip the body. From the man who called himself Hans, I looted:
A great hammer and leather shoulder pads.
A pair of sturdy leather boots (finally, a pair of shoes).
A compass, a pocket watch, and a canteen.
A backpack containing a blanket, herbs, bandages, and a potion.
Rations for six days.
32 Level 9 mana stones.