by Tao Wong
Uppulu shrugged, but the driver spoke up. “We’re moving through Lord Sade’s lands now. He’s eight years old.”
“Eight?” Daniel said.
“Aye. Mother’s the regent, but she’s a Lady,” the driver added. “Still no reason they didn’t up the bounty, but I wouldn’t expect them to be out here.”
Turning his hammer over in his hand, Daniel eyed the empty enchantment slot as he mused about their comment. It was one weakness about the governing system. Brad’s standing army was small and had its hands full dealing with Orc raids, larger bandit groups, and fortifying border garrisons. In-country problems like monster populations were dealt with by the local Lords and Adventurers. Most times, this worked, but occasionally gaps occurred.
Like this one.
Then again, was any system perfect? If there was one, Daniel did not know of it.
Two days later, Sava stood before the tired group, stomping around to alleviate the early morning chill. An unseasonably cold spring morning had left a rime of frost on everything and created a tense and grumpy atmosphere. When silence fell, the caravan master spoke.
“The Ranger says we are out of the Spligos’ territory. Left it last afternoon,” Sava said. A muted cheer erupted from the group, the tension of potential attacks at night and crowded sleeping conditions having depressed everyone further. “That means we’re going to pick up the pace.” Groans erupted from the group, but there were no protests. “We got three days to make up the time before we miss our meeting, and we’re a day behind because of the slower pace. So, get ready for a long haul.”
Clapping his hands together, Sava sent the group off and waved Craig and Daniel closer. The pair, along with Tula, joined the caravan master. Curious, Daniel wondered what additional news Sava had to share.
“I received word by courier pigeon this morning,” Sava said, holding forth a small roll of paper. “The Guild has increased the bounty for the Spligo to double their normal rate. Including those we have reported.” The Adventurers could not help but grin at the news, though Tula was unmoved. “As for the Lord, a royal investigator has been dispatched.”
“Good,” Tula said.
As the group dispersed to pass on the good news, Daniel spoke to Craig. “What’s a royal investigator?”
“You don’t know?” Craig said. Then he smiled wryly. “No reason you should, I guess. They’re who deal with Lords and their ilk. If Lord Sade’s regent does not have a good reason for their failure, I expect there will be a change of governance.”
Daniel thanked Craig, heading off to report the latest news to his friends as the caravan began to roll out. As he walked, the healer could not help but muse about the widening world he was being exposed to. As an Advanced Adventurer, they were neophytes in the games of politics. Their actions, their choices could affect even Lords it seemed.
The rest of the day passed in short order. One day turned to the next. As the expedition continued into the wilderness, moving a clip that was only possible due to the passive movement Skills of the caravan master that bolstered the entire expedition, signs of civilisation faded. Even the occasional homestead or old, worn, and abandoned stone walls gave way to untamed wilderness. Distances between villages increased as the pioneers picked the best locations for making their new lives—finding waterways, untouched forests, and minerals to bolster their chances of success.
At each village, the expedition would stop and trade. At these times, the Adventurers would have time to rest and relax. Depending on the nature of the groups, the Adventurers would relax, catch up on sleep, gamble and drink or, in a few cases, explore the towns. Not that these villagers often had any real sites of interest, though the village heads would often have minor quests on offer.
“Devil Rats again?” Daniel groaned at the head villager’s enthusiastic response. When he saw the man frown, he waved a hand. “Sorry. It’s just that we’ve done the same quest for the last…”
“Three villages,” Omrak said. “Do you not have other problems?”
“But we need the Devil Rats taken care of. They’ve already spoilt four of our grain bags,” the head villager muttered.
“And we’ll handle them. But surely it doesn’t require all of us,” Daniel said.
“Well, we don’t have enough to pay for anything else.”
“Just tell us,” Omrak said.
“Upriver. The Belhu Crocodiles have been spawning and growing,” the head villager said. “We try to keep their population contained.”
“Perfect,” Omrak said. “That is a more suitably glorious quest. I shall slay your crocodiles, skin their scales, and bring back their meat for all to feast upon. Come, Hero Craig. Let us begin!”
The older Adventurer looked between Omrak and his team and then back at his lazing group, some of whom were already half-drunk and shook his head. “No. I don’t think so. You have fun.”
“But the village needs us!” Omrak said.
“Needs you,” Craig said. “There is not enough paid work. Nor would we want to deal with Devil Rats. Those are quests for Beginner Adventurers.”
“But necessary work,” Rob said, lips tightening. “Still, I feel that Asin would best be suited to that work.”
Asin let out an inquisitive meow, though she fingered a throwing knife.
“Selkie. Water,” Rob said, pointing to himself. Then he shifted the direction of his finger to point at Omrak. “Giant sword.” Then to Asin. “Small daggers.” As for Tula, the Ranger was resting on the roof of a caravan, enjoying the sun and a moment of rest. Of them all, the Ranger had done the most work, always ranging back and forth, scouting their route, and verifying problems.
“Daniel?” Asin said, prodding her friend.
“I was hoping to…” Seeing Asin’s big eyes he sighed. “Help you. Fine.”
“You will help us?” the head villager said, looking between the group. By this time, Craig had walked off.
“That is what we do!” Omrak said, clapping the head villager on the shoulder and staggering him. “Come, Friend Rob. We have monsters to slay!”
Daniel groaned, lifting another bag of grain and shifting it so that Asin could spot the rats. Devil Rats were large, almost the size of a large house cat. Due to the structure of their bones, it still meant they could squeeze their way through gaps, so not only were the pair of Adventurers searching for the rats themselves, they were looking for the way they had entered the grain barn. All of which consisted of moving the grain bags around.
As Asin poked around, Daniel rested against one stack of grain. “You just wanted help moving the bags, didn’t you?”
Having verified there were no rats, Asin stepped back and flipped her throwing knife around. She looked at Daniel as she answered, offering him wide cat eyes. “No.”
When Asin answered him, Daniel noted how her tail had frozen for just a brief second in its lazy swinging. “Sure.”
“Friend. Together,” Asin said, pointing between the two of them.
“Huh,” Daniel said as he walked over to the next stack of grain bags. Thanks to their Levels, the act of carrying these grain bags was easier than he had expected. Sometimes, it was easy to forget that he had risen so many Levels in the short span of a year. He had 20 combined Levels. A Miner with 20 Levels could command a premium, his combined Skills and attributes making him twice to thrice as efficient as any beginner Miner. And those few Miners who managed to hit Level 40 were considered peak experts, individuals whose very presence guaranteed a good return for a company. In fact, many of these Miners would run their own companies or mining gangs. “We really have not hung out much alone, have we?”
“No,” Asin said. She let out a satisfied purr as a Devil Rat darted out from beneath Daniel’s feet as he shifted the next stack of grain sacks. As it went for the healer’s feet, Asin threw her readied knives, the blades sinking deep into the creature’s body, the wounds and lightning killing it immediately.
Daniel did not m
iss a beat, putting the grain sacks down and pointing to the hole in the ground they had located. “Found it.”
“Maybe more.”
“I know,” Daniel said. Killing the Devil Rats was not hard for them at all. As Craig had mentioned, this was the kind of work that was best left to Beginner Adventurers—or a group of well-armed and ready villagers. Since there were no Beginner Adventurers around though, it was left to them to finish this. “Still. I bet there isn’t another hole.”
“Bet?”
“Stakes?”
“One silver.”
“Done.”
Motivated by the bet, Daniel started moving the grain sacks at a faster rate. The Catkin grabbed the Devil Rat, slinging the dead body outside for the peasants to deal with, but not before she retrieved her knife. After she re-entered, Asin hopped up on one sack and found a perch on a beam, the daggers still held in one hand as she did her little gymnastics routine. Even if they found the holes in the barn, they still had to find the monster’s lair.
It was late evening before the party regrouped at the village square. There, an impromptu celebration was being conducted, a mark of gratitude for the caravan’s arrival and the Adventurers’ help. Beside the trio of cooking fires, three eight-foot-long crocodiles turned on spits, the centerpiece of the celebration. Beside the largest of the crocodiles, Omrak held court, waving a sawn-off back leg as a makeshift sword.
“Then, as Rob was about to be eaten by the monster, I swung my sword and lopped off its snout!” Omrak swung the drumstick down.
“I was in no danger,” Rob said, sniffing. “I knew you were there. As if a stupid crocodile could catch a Selkie in the water.”
“You’re a Selkie? I thought you were seals?” A scrawny farmer said, looking at Rob with distrust.
“It is one of our forms.”
“Forms? I thought you people were like the Beastkin,” the same farmer said.
“No.” Rob sniffed. “Unlike the Beastkin, we have two forms. We never gave up our heritage.”
“That old lie?” Sumuhan who was seated a short distance away said with a growl. “You refused to aid Erlis when she needed it. And were thus cursed with having to choose each time.”
“Lies!” Rob roared. He stepped forwards and pointed a finger at Sumuhan. “Lies that you Beastkin tell to explain why you gave up your real forms. Lies to explain why you are cursed to stand in those absurd forms.”
“Say that again.” Sumuhan stood up, his hand falling to the maul that rested against the chair he had been seated on. “Go on. Speak that lie again.”
“You think I’m scared of you?” Rob said, snarling. From behind the Selkie, a pair of his floating spikes dropped from his jacket and floated up ahead of the Enchanter.
“Stop it. Both of you!” Craig said, placing himself between the pair. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“He insulted us!”
“He’s spreading his lies!”
“I don’t care,” Craig snarled. “This is a celebration. You are Advanced Adventurers. Act like it.”
Daniel appeared beside Rob, prodding him in the side until the man stared at the Healer. He then pointed at the floating spikes before speaking. “Put the weapons away.”
“Or else?”
“Or else Omrak will hit you with the drumstick, and then we’ll roll you around in the mud until you calm down,” Daniel said.
“Mud?” the fastidious Selkie shuddered. “Fine. But if he continues to pass on those lies…”
“You’ll both shut up,” Craig said, having overheard the conversation. Sumuhan growled but released his hold on his maul, sitting down. Omrak, having watched the entire thing, just rolled his eyes and bit into his drumstick.
An hour later, once Daniel was certain that the group had settled and he had had Rob apologise to the village head, Daniel found Asin and poked her. The Catkin let out a disconsolate growl.
“What was that about?” Daniel said.
“Old stories,” Asin said. “Anger.”
“There’s obviously a lot. I’ve never seen you and Rob get into it,” Daniel said.
“Don’t care,” Asin said pointing at herself.
“It sounds like a rather important story though,” Daniel said. After spending an hour of cudgelling his brain, Daniel had to admit that he actually did not know which story was true. In fact, he recalled hearing a few other stories about the creation of the Beastkin—mismanaged creations of Mages, forsaken children of one of the lesser gods… Even if the gods knew the truth, they did not speak it. Or, perhaps they did, and the priests refused to tell.
Asin sighed and then raised her hands. “Too many stories. Too long ago. No records. Gods tell lies.” A rumble in the night sky had Asin look up and duck her head as she added. “Or are lied to. New gods don’t know. Old gods don’t talk. Or talk badly.”
That, too, was true. Communication between the gods and the clergy was difficult, prone to miscommunication due to the difference in strength and status between the two. A god, a real god, was so far beyond mortals that only those with the highest Levels could sustain any real communication.
“So you don’t care?”
“Make difference?” Asin said pointing at herself. “Asin. Cursed. Blessed. Still Asin.”
Daniel opened his mouth and then shut it. True enough. If there was one truth to all their teachings, it was that life did not judge. It would break you and gift you in equal degree, whatever your beliefs. All you could do was go on.
“Food,” Asin said, waving her empty plate. And then, having done talking philosophy, the Catkin walked off, leaving Daniel staring at the young Catkin’s back.
Chapter 9
The Great Forest of Pirin stretched for miles as the group crested the next hill, a sea of green interrupted by a clearing dotted with the brown thatched houses of a village. The dirt road the expedition had been travelling on for the last two days, pushing through the mud and washed out gravel banks, led here—the village of Olyne. Olyne was the last outpost of civilisation for the Kingdom of Brad in this portion of the world and the last stop for the expedition before they entered the forest.
As the expedition crested the hill, Omrak walked over to Tula who stood by the side of the road, just past the hill so that she was not profiled against the sky. The Ranger was pensively biting her lips, her gaze locked on the village in a way that the Northerner had never seen before.
“Your home?” Omrak said as he came to a stop next to the short woman.
“Yes,” Tula said. Surprisingly, she continued speaking, utterly unlike her normal close-mouthed attitude. “It’s been three years since I was last here. It’s not changed, not much. Another pair of houses, a bigger sawmill. Cut down more trees…”
“It’s hard, home,” Omrak rumbled. “I have not been home since I left four years ago.”
“Four?” Tula said, surprised. She turned her head to look at Omrak, gaze drifting over the youthful giant’s body.
“Yes. I left when I was fourteen,” Omrak said, answering her unasked question. “It is customary among my people to consider a boy a man after his first kill. Mine was when I was thirteen. My mother refused to let me go until I was fourteen though.” To the last sentence, Omrak continued to sound aggrieved. “But my father insisted that I be allowed to make my way.”
“Do you regret it?”
“Regret what?”
“Leaving.”
“No,” Omrak said, shaking his head. “There is no place for me at home. My older brothers have the farm. When I have earned my coin and made my name, I shall return. I will buy the land below my brother’s and raise sheep then. And then I will hire a farmhand to care for the sheep while I hunt in the mountains.”
Tula snorted. “That’s a nice dream.”
“Aye. So, the village survives on lumber?”
“Lumber and beast harvest are the mainstays,” Tula said. “But it’s expeditions like thi
s one that give us the money to improve.”
Omrak nodded. It was not that different in his village. When you lived at the edge of nowhere, the community became used to creating the majority of their needs themselves. However, some things were just not possible to be created in a small village, and so the occasional traders and expeditions provided the necessities. In some ways, Omrak figured, this village was better off than his own for they had the guarantee of regular traders looking for monster parts. The highlands he came from had the same, but monsters were much rarer and much more dangerous.
“Ranger,” Sava said as he hopped off his wagon, joining the pair as they watched the village. “Is there an issue?”
“No,” Tula said.
“Good.” Sava relaxed, looking around the forest and then upwards at the mid-day sun. “We should reach the village well in time. We will rest for three days and then begin the expedition proper.”
Tula inclined her head at Sava’s words.
The expedition master paused, looking from side-to-side nervously before he spoke. “The Esman Gorge-”
“Is dangerous,” Tula cut in. “This is only an Advanced orange-rated expedition. We are not cleared to enter the gorge.”
“If we only sent in some scouts…”
“No.”
“Of course, Ranger,” Sava said, nodding his head. Lips pursed, Sava considered before he spoke again. “Then, we will go to the Rybachly Lake.”
“Acceptable. I’ll verify conditions before we leave,” Tula said.
Sava bobbed his head and then bade goodbye to the group, hurrying over to catch up with his wagon. The pair stood in silence for a bit, allowing more of the wagons and Sava to leave before Omrak spoke.
“What is the Sman Gorge?”
“Esman,” Tula corrected. “A dangerous location. The Rangers have rated it as Advanced Green-Blue threat levels. But it also contains the eggs of the Nizhnye raptor which are highly prized for both beast taming and the kitchens.”