by Tao Wong
“Your team look very competent,” Daniel said, after letting his gaze pass over the group one last time.
“As does yours,” Craig said as he nodded over Daniel’s shoulder. Daniel turned, smiling slightly when he realised that his team were entering at last, Omrak in the lead. In short order, the groups introduced themselves to one another.
“As the senior team, we will be taking charge and assigning roles,” Craig said. “Is that an issue?”
“Not at all,” Daniel said.
“Except when I say otherwise,” Tula said, the Ranger stepping forward to join the conversation. “If it involves exploring new paths, stop timing, and dealing with new monsters, I do have final authority.”
“We’re on a charted road,” Hjalmar said as he crossed his arms. “Your Ranger garbage is not needed.”
“Charted road or not, it’s still considered the outlands,” Tula said. “If it was not, I would not be required to join you. As per Guild covenant 1.9.3 on expeditions, a Ranger’s authority is paramount in all expeditions.”
“There we go again. The Ranger is throwing around her weight,” Hjalmar said, rolling his eyes. “Just because they’ve got a ‘better’ Class. I bet she’s not even Level 20 yet, and she thinks she can order us around.”
“Hjalmar…” Craig said.
“No. This is the kind of bureaucratic garbage that gets Adventurers killed,” Hjalmar said.
“It’s Adventurers like you who refuse to follow Ranger orders that get people killed on expeditions,” Tula said, stepping forwards as she glowered at the man.
“Look, can we talk about this?” Daniel said, trying to find some peace.
“Do not worry, Adventurer Chai. There will be no problems here,” the caravan master said as he walked over, having seen the brewing problem. “Team leader Craig. Handle your man. The Guild rules are clear as are my expedition rules. The Ranger is in charge when there is a clear and obvious threat from outland monsters.
“Are we clear?”
Craig flushed and nodded. When Hjalmar tried to speak again, Craig went as far as to growl at his friend.
“Good. Ranger Tula, thank you for joining the expedition,” the caravan master said.
“My pleasure,” Tula said.
“If you are ready, the caravan will depart now.”
“Go ahead. For the first ten miles, there is little of concern,” Tula said, her face impassive. “I will lead the way nonetheless.”
“Of course.” Once again the caravan master nodded to Tula before leaving, soon followed by Craig after he distributed the group. The sullen Hjalmar was left to stand guard at the back, alone.
As the caravan trundled out of town, Rob who had been assigned to stand with Daniel leaned over and whispered, “That was an auspicious start.”
All Daniel could do was smile wryly in response.
Chapter 6
A gentle breeze blew, pushing against Asin’s whiskers and ruffling her fur. She trotted beside the carriage, happy to be out of the city. As much as the Catkin had grown up in the city, her expanded senses meant that she would always find the stench of urban life just a little much. Not that the outdoors did not have their fair share of offensive odours, but they were often less concentrated. As Asin drew a deep breath, she tasted the scents of the road—dust, gravel and horse droppings mixed with the grass, leaves and rotting vegetation of the meadows beside. There was a slight smell of fungi coming from the wind along with rotten wood, but it was the smell of fresh rabbit that made her mouth water. Too bad it was off in the forest itself, hiding out of sight of the caravan train. And, next to her, the smell of goat and human, the Beastkin having a distinctive scent compared to real animals.
“Surprised to see your group here,” Sumuhan said, breaking the silence as he scratched at one bandaged arm. Now that they were out of the city, speech was much simpler and easier.
“Why?” Asin said.
“You have a healer. If we had one, we’d be in the Dungeon every day,” Sumuhan said. The goat’s voice was rougher and higher than a normal human’s voice with a tendency to wobble as he spoke, similar to an actual animal.
Asin could only shrug, her tail waving at Sumuhan’s statement. What Sumuhan mentioned was very similar to their normal method of raiding. It was the biggest difference between their team and many others. A normal Adventuring team had to be extremely careful about injuries, forcing them to take each level with caution. Most parties entered the Dungeon injured, Adventurers favoring torn muscles or tendons, aches and bruises from previous encounters, and the occasional broken bone. Minor injuries that hampered but not did not stop the Adventurers from delving.
But a single major injury—a broken bone, a stab, or a cut that opened up torsos or wounds—could stop a party’s progress. Worse, as Asin knew, injuries had a tendency to snowball in a fight. A mistake and one Adventurer would go down. In an Advanced Dungeon that often meant the outnumbered Adventurers would be forced to fight even more monsters alone. That would result in more risks, more injuries. A single mistake and two to three members could find themselves injured.
At which point, an Adventuring party would have to decide to go ahead injured, use up precious and expensive healing potions, or pull out and rest. Many a party, like Sumuhan’s, would do the wise thing and rest. It was better when there were multiple injured parties in some ways, for it allowed the entire group to rest, heal, and then enter whole. In some cases, when the injuries were half-healed, groups would take up quests, earning them coin while not placing them in as much danger.
Like expeditions.
Expeditions themselves were often priced to attract Adventuring parties at a higher payout than normal. The long, boring journeys often required the groups to leave their home base, reducing the amount of time a group could Level. Unlike guard quests which travelled between populous locations, expeditions went from populous to the outlands, forcing the group to stay with the expedition the entire time. The length of the trips and the variable danger of expeditions meant that they had to pay better than normal quests.
But only in relation to normal quests for an ‘average’ Dungeon delving team. For groups like Asin’s, who could heal and be back in the Dungeon every other day or so, their earning levels were much lower. In fact, Asin hummed to herself, she had been hesitant about this trip herself. Giving up all that coin… It had not sat well with her. Hesitant or not, since the rest of the group had been excited with the idea when Rob had brought it up, she had gone along with it.
“So why did you come?” Sumuhan said, having given up waiting for her to answer without prompting.
“Experience,” Asin said. “Expedition. Ranger.”
“All expeditions have Rangers.”
“Not all,” Asin said. “Availability.”
“True. We are lucky…” Sumuhan said. “We can speak in Beastkin if you wish.”
“Yes, easier to speak,” Asin said. She turned towards the back, spotting a lone trudging figure. “Not all your friends are happy.”
“Hjalmar? He is never happy. Not since we voted Craig in as the new party leader,” Sumuhan said.
“Why?”
“Party issues.” Sumuhan turned his head away from Asin, staring at the clump of forest they were approaching before deciding that there were no threats there. Not that any threats this close to the city was likely. Not with the amount of traffic on the road. Traffic was slow enough on the busy roadway that many members of the caravan were walking to ease their backs. Springed steel shocks or not, it was not comfortable sitting on the wagons for any length of time. “They treat you well, young one?”
“You’re not that old,” Asin said. Though, she had to admit, Sumuhan was aged for an Advanced Adventurer being in his late twenties. For a Goatkin who rarely lived older than fifty, he was more than half done. And adventuring was young man’s game for the most part. “But they are good. Many of us have been together for over a year. Tu
la and Rob are newer, but they treat me fair.”
“Good.” Unspoken lay the fact that being more bestial than many of their kin, they faced even more prejudice. There were guilds and Adventuring groups that refused to take Beastkin that looked as bestial as they did as concerns over their ‘animal nature’ failing in the Dungeon was still prevalent. Even if it was quite untrue.
Talk after that turned to the usual discussion between Adventurers—of weapons and spells, tactics and monsters. The shop talk of people who find themselves dealing in violence on a regular basis. Even if, unlike what the general public might envision, it was a little less common.
Four days later, Daniel yawned as he sat on the lead carriage, watching the surroundings trundle by. Once they left the main roadways that linked up the major cities of Brad, the group had swung north and west, heading for the outlands and the final destination of the expedition. Once they reached their destination in another two weeks, the plan was to spend a month in the outlands, hunting, gathering and otherwise collecting the bounty of the wilderness. Over the course of the expedition, the expedition master would sell or barter the numerous essential items to the Hunters, Trappers, Outlanders, and the villagers for the goods they had collected. In time, the continual immigration of commoners and the civilizing influence of more people would see the development of larger villages and the birth of new towns.
That is, if the Orcs that lived further south of the northwestern forests did not send a War Party to deal with the encroaching villagers. As a landlocked nation, Brad could not expand farther east as it came up against the larger Empire of Kobyzcha. To the southeast, the Beastkin nation of Garhwa bordered the Empire—a semi-vassal state that existed on a populous and varied land. To the south, Brad had expanded as far as it could before it abutted the no-man’s land of the Esenbey Desert. The nomadic tribes that lived there claimed the desert as much as any could call it theirs. While the desert tribes did raid the villages once in a while, it was overall a peaceful relationship. And, of course, to the southwest and west, the sprawling Orc nations. If Brad had any reason for surviving against the greater Empire of Kobyzcha, it was because the Empire enjoyed the safeguard of Brad. Not that it stopped the Empire from building its famous fortress cities along the border between the two.
“Why the smile, young man?” the driver who had introduced himself as Grey said when he spotted Daniel smiling wryly to himself.
“History. We used to dominate this continent. Even have it named after ourselves. And now, we’re well.” Daniel shrugged.
“We’re still here, aren’t we?” Grey said and then leaned over to spit a stream of betel juice to the side. “Lots of nations can’t say that. Even the ones that took our lands later.”
“True. Two millennia is a long time,” Daniel said. Brad’s days of glory were long in the past. The once-mighty empire had been brought low by internal politics, and two Master Class and four Advanced Class Dungeon breaks in the midst of a three-hundred-year-long civil war. Add in the on-going battles with the invading Orcs from overseas during the periods of peace in the civil war, and the empire had shrunk and shrunk again. Each had drained the strength of the once-mighty empire, slowly forcing it to draw its effective area of control. In that gap, monsters and other nations had claimed the land.
In truth, few Adventurers knew much about the history of Brad. Daniel himself would have been mostly ignorant too, if not for bedtime talks with Khy’ra. It was, in her view, for the best. Too much concern about the former glories of the past would lead to another wasteful war of conquest. Those wars, in Khy’ra’s view, were one of the main reasons that the empire had fallen – the diversion of Adventurers from the important task of clearing Dungeons.
“Two? You mean three, no?” Grey said.
Daniel shook his head. “Two.”
“Nah, that ain’t right. My ma always said it was three,” Grey reiterated. “You should take it from me. She was capital educated.”
Daniel opened his mouth to correct the man again and then stared at Grey’s mulish face. After a moment, he decided not to push the matter. After all, his information was second-hand too. Even if it was from an old Elf. “Did you ever go? To the capital?”
“Nah. Silverstone is good enough for me,” Grey said. “Big enough to get lost in, not so big you got too many of the wrong kind around.”
Daniel stiffened but kept his voice neutral as he said. “Wrong kind?”
“Nobles.”
“Oh,” Daniel relaxed, refusing the offer of mint-wrapped betel nuts as Grey spat out his old set and added a new wad. “Not really met any.”
Ahead of them, Tula had paused, waving to the group to slow down. A hand dropped, and Daniel retrieved his crossbow, working the cocking mechanism.
“Trouble?” Grey asked, the driver tapping his chest where a gold amulet sat.
“Yes.” Daniel’s eyes narrowed.
Well. It was a little too much to ask for the entire expedition to be quiet.
“What do we have, Ranger Tula?” Sava the caravan master asked Tula when the group reached the crouching Ranger. She walked over at an angle, her body turned towards the right of the road.
“Spligo,” Tula said, turning away to face the direction of the threat fully now as she spoke. The arrow she held loosely to her bow continued to point in the direction of the rise that hid the monsters.
Sava hissed while Daniel made a face, pulling out another pair of crossbow bolts from his quiver as well as his hammer. He briefly debated his shield and then discarded the idea, preferring to keep his hand free for gripping hold of the wagon.
“How many?” Sava asked.
“A full pack,” Tula said. “Nine adults. Six children. They took down a Bone Bison just over the ridge.”
“Good,” Sava said. “Recommendations?”
“Go slow. Be ready to run,” Tula said. “If they are eating, they should be satisfied. Archers will fire when I do. We will attack only if we are attacked.”
“Spligo are pests,” Craig said, having joined the lead wagon on foot. “There are only fifteen of them. We can take them.”
“Not our job,” Tula said, shaking her head. Sava looked relieved when Tula spoke. “We’ll send a missive when we are clear.”
“The bounty on Spligo is five silver each. And their teeth and glands are quite prized,” Craig said. “Left alone, such a large pack will split when the pups are grown.”
“Not our job.” Tula turned around to stare at Craig, her voice growing firmer. “We get the caravan master to his location and back. Safely.”
Craig’s lips tightened, but he nodded shortly. Sava smiled when he saw Craig walk off, inclining his head towards Tula. “Thank you, Ranger. This is why expedition master’s like myself prefer having Rangers in-charge. Adventurers are a little… enthusiastic.” Daniel stirred in his seat, and Sava flashed a quick smile at the young man. “No offence meant.”
“None taken,” Daniel said. He could understand Craig’s desire. Five silver was a decent amount for a monster.
In short order, the entire caravan had been informed. Outside of a token force on the left, the regular guards and Adventurers shifted their attention to the right. Grey clicked his tongue and flicked the reins, getting his horses moving forwards at a slow trot. Once over the hills, Daniel caught sight of the Spligo.
The Spligo existed in that nebulous void of pest and threat. An individual Spligo was not dangerous. A pack of Spligo, on the other hand, were dangerous enough to take down a Bone Bison. Worse, in a single season, the Spligo might birth three or four times.
As for the Spligo itself, the monster looked like a thinner, flatter wolf with an oval face. Instead of a single set of jaws, the Spligo’s mouth parted like a flower, razor-sharp teeth lining the snout where a mobile tongue-tentacle writhed, its barbed appendage used to wrap and drag bodies and limbs toward it. From what Daniel recalled, the monster’s saliva was a mild paralytic, while its
claws were surprisingly blunt.
“Let’s just take this slow,” Daniel whispered as he pointed the crossbow in the direction of the monsters. The group was hunched over the corpse of the Bone Bison, their long tongues wrapping around dead flesh to rip and pull into their maws. It was a sickening sight, especially when the monsters dipped their tongues into the monster’s torso, moving within to rip and eat the viscera.
“Slow. I got slow.” Grey fingered the solid steel crowbar that lay between the two of them. “Just hope they’re happy with their meal.
“Yes. Slow. Can’t outrun them, so we go slow,” Daniel muttered. Beside the pair, Tula walked with a pair of arrows held in one hand and another arrow already nocked. She looked back and glared at the talking pair, making Daniel duck his head in embarrassment. After all this time, he knew that the Ranger disliked noise— calling it an unnecessary additional factor.
When the caravan was directly opposite the pack, Tula stopped walking and took a large step away from the road. She then just stood there, bow held low and ready while she stared at the monsters. The Spligo, having caught sight of the group, were all on their feet, dark eyes following the movements of the caravan before locking onto the still, tiny Ranger. An errant wind caught the edges of her brown hair, held down by a brimmed green and brown hat, playing with it and the edges of her clothing. It was the only thing that seemed to move as the Ranger stared down the monsters.
As the wagon trundled past the group, Daniel turned in his seat, his gaze drawn towards the largest member of the pack. The Spligo had been feasting at the shattered chest of the bison but now focused its attention on the group. A stretched head saw the creature’s maw open up, showing the rows of sharp teeth on each portion of the monster’s snout. From the second wagon where Hjalmar sat, the driver let out an involuntary yelp. As one, the monsters turned their heads to fix on the driver.
