Common Clay

The next day, Clay had a hard time waking up.

Going out on two separate hunts had a lot to do with the fatigue he felt, but another part had been the lack of quality sleep the night before. Being able to see the number of kills the monsters had caused did not do wonders for his view of the future. Each of those deaths had been a person, just like him, with dreams and a future. If he didn’t stop them in time, how many more were going to see their fortunes cut short?

All the same, he had work to do. He went about preparing the day, hunting with sore muscles and doing a quick initial check for weeds. To his sudden panic, he almost forgot to hide his weapons away again, only remembering when he heard a distant conversation approaching. Luckily, the adventurers appeared to be in no hurry, and he was just swinging down from the rafters when he heard them knock at the door.

Clay landed on the floorboards, trying not to make too much noise, and then brushed himself off before he swung open the door. “Welcome! Going out for another day of hunting?”

Enessa grinned. “Yep! We’re going to try and push a bit further in today. See if we can get closer to the center.”

He raised his eyebrows. “That won’t be dangerous?”

Charles shrugged. “Possibly, but Sir Leonard was saying that there weren’t as many monsters as he’d been expecting. They might be hiding further in, so we’ll need to go in after them.”

Clay shivered a little theatrically. “Well, be careful. It sounds a little like trying to bait a bear in his own cave.”

Sir Leonard smiled cooly. “An accurate image, but do not worry. We have trained for this type of situation, and I believe the cadets will do well.”

Enessa and Charles handed over the packs of supplies, and Clay stowed them away as he had before. When he turned back, Leonard had already waved for the others to go ahead. The older adventurer turned back to look at him, his eyes calculating.

“A moment of your time, Goodman Evergreen?”

Clay nodded, trying to keep the smile on his face from becoming fixed. “Sure, though you can call me Clay. Goodman Evergreen sounds like what people would call my father.”

Leonard nodded his head, his eyes not leaving Clay’s face. “Have you seen anyone else entering the woods? The Tanglewoods, I mean. Any strangers or people from town?”

He frowned, careful to word things correctly. Olivia hadn’t run across any magic that could tell truth from lies, but he didn’t want to risk it. “I haven’t seen anyone but your party going into the Tanglewood, Sir Leonard. Truth be told, I don’t know of anyone crazy enough to do it.”

“You’re sure?” Leonard’s eyes grew sharper. “Strange things have been happening in the forest, starting well before we got here. I suspect that a [Commoner] living on the edge of that forest might see someone…causing those things as a protector. A friend.”

Leonard smiled. “I mean no harm to anyone who is committed to containing the monsters of the Tanglewood, you understand, but it is important for us to know what is happening here. If there is another person in the Tanglewood, we could work together to bring the situation to a close. It would be safer, both for such a person, and for your friends among the cadets. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Clay watched the man, thinking over his response. Obviously, the man didn’t suspect him anymore, but he did think that Clay might help the Rogue Leonard had actually been sent to hunt. Were the punishments for helping a Rogue as bad as actually being the Rogue? He didn’t really want to find out.

“Well, I hear what you are saying, Sir Leonard, and I’d agree. It’s a shame that I haven’t seen anyone like that around here.” Then he shrugged and leaned against the doorway. “If I do, I’ll be sure to let you know, though. So you can all work together to put a stop to those spiders.”

The instant he said the word, he knew it was a mistake. Clay Evergreen wasn’t supposed to know what kind of monsters were in the Tanglewood. They were supposed to be a mysterious threat, not something the average [Commoner] would know anything about.

Sir Leonard didn’t respond, however. He just narrowed his eyes and frowned. Then he sighed and turned away. “Very well. If you do happen to see someone, please let me know. The importance of working together cannot be overstated. Good fortune to you and your farm, Goodman—ah, no, Clay Evergreen.”

“And to you as well, Sir Leonard.” Clay watched the veteran adventurer rejoin the others. He waited a little longer this time, wanting to make sure that they were all well inside the forest. Then he went for his gear. He couldn’t let them get too far ahead.

The group was moving well today, and they were being diligent about checking their surroundings. So far, he’d only had to nudge a couple of troll spiderlings and decoy one mantrap spiderling out of its hole; the rest they had found and killed on their own. He’d been surprised that none of them had announced a level, however, at least until he realized that because they were sharing the kills. They weren’t going to level that quickly at all.

Curiosity and a lack of threat eventually made him try out the Orison on them, peeking from behind trees, brush, and stones. What he found confirmed some of his thoughts and immediately lowered his opinions of the Guild.

All of his friends were no higher than level three, and none of them seemed to have killed a monster before entering the Tanglewood. Apparently, the Guild had chosen to help them level in relatively safer ways, such as fighting tournaments for Enessa, or simple quests for Charles. It had given them valuable strength—all of them were at or near their maximum in the [Stats] their [Class] demanded—but they obviously lacked experience. Why had the Guild sent them out here like this?

There were two exceptions. Lord Frensfeld was level four, something the [Noble] mostly owed to his grand array of titles. At the same time, however, he had several more monster kills than Clay had seen him get here, and the way he defended his allies won him a small measure of grudging respect in Clay’s eyes. He wondered if Frensfeld might have been the leader of the party, if Sir Leonard hadn’t come along.

Leonard was the other exception. His [Class] was [Outrider], and he was all the way at level seven. He had an impressive number of monster kills under his belt, enough that he had obviously earned the experience that he now used to direct the team. The few times Clay saw him wield the daggers he carried, he had put them to lethal effect.

Yet it was just as clear that his attention was not on the mission to stop the spiders. Clay was not the only one who noticed, either, as he later found out.

As he hid nearby, concealed behind a tree trunk, he caught voices talking, not loud enough to carry to the rest of the group, who were taking a slight break a short distance away.

“I would have your reason for this, Sir. Now.”

Clay blinked. The [Noble] had not acted kindly to him, but he’d at least been civil. This time, his voice was near-acid, and his respect for the man begrudgingly increased yet again.

Leonard’s response didn’t seem worried about Frensfeld’s tone, however. If anything, Clay would have called it dismissive. “The Guild’s priorities in this matter are clear, Lord Frensfeld. Finding this Rogue is an important task.”

“Does he even exist, Sir? You’ve spent an onerous amount of time harassing the friends and family of a lazy, unmotivated farmer. You’ve spoken with the local Rector, with the merchants in the village, and the baron Pellsglade himself. None of them can provide so much as a description of the supposed Rogue. The monsters, however, are here.”

“Yes, they are—but not enough of them.” Leonard’s voice grew colder. “This close, we should already be running into more spiderlings, and adult versions of the things as well. Yet we see none of them. Why?”

When Frensfeld didn’t answer, Leonard continued in an even voice. “The villagers reported hearing screams. None of the spiderlings we’ve seen could make that noise. We’ve seen columns of smoke as well, from over this cursed hill. Do you believe these beasts are causing them?” There was another pause, and Clay resisted the urge to shrink back further into his hiding spot. “They are here, Lord Frensfeld, and they must be made to serve the Kingdom, not themselves. Ignoring that could cause an even greater disaster than the Lair. If you cannot be convinced of that, then perhaps you should not be here.”

There was another silence, one where Clay tried to understand the logic of Leonard’s words. He’d said it with a tone of absolute conviction, but how could a simple Rogue be a bigger threat than an actual tide of monsters?

He shook his head, trying to focus more on the matter at hand. Whether or not Leonard was right, it was clear that the man would not stand idly by and let Clay continue his campaign against the Lair. Of course, Clay had no intention of backing down, either. If it came to a fight, would he be able to take the man down? It seemed like it would be…risky. The [Outrider] had far superior [Might] and [Insight], and while Clay had the edge in the other [Stats], it wasn’t like he had enough of an advantage to really help. Though [Paragon] and [Defiant] might narrow the gap, it wasn’t likely to be enough. Most of his abilities related to killing monsters. If Leonard were a big spider, it might have worked out well. As it was, it would be better to avoid things escalating that way.

Clay heard Enessa shout, and then the sound of another troll spiderling being smashed. He grimaced a little and then slipped away. Whatever the issue with Leonard, it could wait until the Lair was done—and that obviously would not happen today. Better to focus on the task at hand.

When Clay returned home, well ahead of the group of adventurers, he found Olivia already waiting for him. The girl was still wearing that same odd tabard and breeches combination, something she had informed him that the Rectors wore when traveling. She grinned as he came up, already having cleansed himself of the signs of his journey. “Are they nearly here?”

“Yeah. I need to hide these and get ready.” He eyed her. “You aren’t nearly as tired today. Did your [Fortitude] go up after all?”

“It did!” She grinned and swiped a bit of sweat off her forehead. “It made the rest of my chores in the shrine surprisingly less tiring.”

Clay smiled and moved past her to stick his weapons in the rafters again. “Congratulations! You might end up even better prepared than I was for my Choosing.”

Olivia nodded, throwing a few daring punches in the air. She might have been able to bruise fruit with one of them. “Perhaps. I still need to work on [Might] and [Valor].”

“Well, nine months is plenty of time.” He finished stowing his gear and then wiped his hands. “Should we eat something?”

She shook her head. “Let’s start on the fields first. That way, they don’t ask what you’ve been up to all day with me indoors. In case you are still worried about what the village might say?”

Clay started to ask what she meant and then caught her meaning. He blushed. “I…yeah, let’s get started then.”

The party returned about a half hour later, still mostly unwounded, and their morale was still high. They found him and Olivia picking their way through the fields, reducing the weeds and spreading a little water around. She’d needed a little guidance, but he’d helped her keep from stepping on the plants.

He saw Charles wave to him and waved back. Ned said something to his cousin, and Enessa slugged him in the arm hard enough for the [Dark Knight] to complain. Maribel and Enessa then seemed to be scolding the poor man, even while George was nearly doubled over laughing.

Leonard simply gave him a respectful nod as he approached. Lord Frensfeld ignored him, as usual.

“Let me go get your supplies. How did things go today?”

“We made adequate progress. Hopefully, we will be able to see the Lair soon.” Leonard’s calm voice carried a threat that Clay hadn’t recognized before, but he pretended to not notice it.

“That’s good news! I hope you’re able to get there tomorrow.” Privately, he hoped they would slow down a little. He didn’t know how well Leonard would fare, but he doubted any of his friends were ready to take on an elder spider, let alone multiple of them.

“Yes. Hopefully tomorrow we will be within sight of our goal.”

Clay smiled and nodded and internally promised himself that this man would never find even a single trace of him going forward. Not if he could help it.

The adventurers joined him and Olivia for a brief lunch before they headed back to town, during which Olivia managed to wheedle what seemed like every possible story about the Academy and the Guild that she could. By the end of the meal, she could have listed every [Feat], [Style], [Charm] and [Sigil] the adventurers had—except for the silent Leonard, of course. Even Frensfeld opened up a little at her gentle prodding.

When they left, she joined him in hacking away at the edges of the field again, occasionally taking her turn with the sickle. She waited until they were fully gone before she spoke. “None of them have any idea how to seal a Lair. Have you noticed?”

Clay blinked and looked down the road at their retreating backs. “I did not, but now that you mentioned it…”

“I’d have expected the [Mage], Syr Maribel, to know the [Chant], but…” Olivia shook her head, swiping at the hair sticking to her face with one hand. “She doesn’t know any [Chants]. They’ve been making her memorize speeches, histories, and arcane rituals, but no [Chants]. Aside from her [Charms], she’s nearly defenseless.”

He’d wondered why Maribel hadn’t used any [Chants] at all in the forest. Now he knew why. In fact, none of them had used [Chants]. Had the Academy simply stopped teaching them, somehow? Or was it something that they saved only for the higher levels?

Then the real implications of what she’d been saying caught up to him. “So wait. The only one who could know it would be Sir Leonard. And he…”

“Is an [Outrider].” Olivia started hacking away at a bit of brush. Her swings seemed more out of spite than anything. “A level seven, if I remember correctly, which means his maximum [Memory] is barely above a [Commoner]’s. Even if they reach the Lair, they can’t kill it.”

Clay grunted, standing back and staring at the weeds without really seeing them. “And you haven’t happened to run across the [Chant] we need, have you?” She shook her head, still hacking away, and he nodded slowly. “Then if we can’t kill it, we can at least force it to go dormant. That would give us time to search for a real solution.”

“To do that, you’ll have to kill its Guardians. We don’t even know how many of those there will be.” Olivia gave one final swing and decapitated some sproutwillow. The seeds blew everywhere, and Clay winced at the thought of having to pick them all out of his field the next day. She stood there, chest heaving as she glared at the remaining weeds.

He gently reached out and took the sickle from her. “They were talking while they were moving through the forest. I think there might just be two Guardians. That should be something I can handle.”

“Guardians are not a thing you ‘handle’, Clay. There’re stories about heroes fighting them. Dying while fighting them, even if they had an easy time of the other monsters.” She shivered slightly, despite the sweat on her face. “They won’t be alone, either. The rest of the monsters will come to help them. None of the spiders will ignore you trying to kill their Guardians.”

“Then maybe Leonard and the others will be useful to distract them.” He slashed at the weeds, cutting them back with relative ease. This section didn’t have nearly as much sablethorn as the other parts, which meant he could just hack away at ease. “Don’t give up hope now, Olivia. We’re close, and even if we go through another wave of spiderlings, we’ll have enough time to try again later.”

She seemed doubtful, but she still nodded slowly. Clay turned away and tried to focus on clearing the brush. Clearly, he’d need to keep taking down the elder spiders around the Lair. Fighting whatever kind of monster the Guardians were was probably going to be hard enough. Adding in a pack of elder spiders on top of that would…not be ideal.

All the better that he intended killing most of them before he tried, then.

“Get around it!”

“Trying…to…”

“Sir George, face it head on. Sir Charles, make sure it cannot get to the [Dragoon]. Syr Maribel, heal Syr Enessa.”

Clay watched, tense, as the group faced off with their first adult mantrap.

The thing had run into them on their fourth day, as they had reached the foot of Scout’s Hill. It had been drawn out of hiding looking for a troll spiderling corpse to eat, and the party had actually been resting right next to one. He’d been tempted to kill it, but it would have sent Leonard a clear sign a Rogue was close, so he’d contented himself by nearly flipping it over with Ballad of Air to make sure it couldn’t sneak up on them.

So far, they were not doing too badly. Enessa had taken a slash to one arm, but she’d broken the thing’s left two forelimbs in exchange. Ned and Lord Frensfeld were cutting off its escape, and George was keeping it busy by poking that lance at its face. Clay was fairly sure that Leonard could have finished the thing himself already, but the [Outrider] was obviously letting his juniors get the experience of killing it on their own. His calm, unworried orders seemed effective at keeping them from panicking, at least.

It snapped at Charles, whose shield was between it and George. The [Paladin] responded by cutting it across the face; Clay saw one of its fangs go flying. The thing screeched, and jumped back, giving Ned the opening to put his broad battleaxe right into its back. His weapon glowed as runes etched into it came to life, and the thing screeched again as the axe seemed to melt its way through the carapace. Then, when the thing tried to turn on Ned, George thrust his lance straight through its skull.

The monster went limp, and the adventurers yelled in triumph. Even Enessa, whose wound was rapidly closing under Maribel’s [Charm], seemed to be grinning.

“Well done! Your first rank three monster is slain! Now watch your surroundings. There may be more on the…”

Clay sighed, his good feelings spoiled by Leonard’s voice. It wasn’t that the man was unpleasant, but he was starting to see more and more past the calm demeanor. Nothing in Pellsglade mattered to Sir Leonard aside from hunting down the Rogue. He suspected that if the [Outrider] had to sacrifice some of his cadets to find his target, he might actually do it. Hearing him praise the team just felt like a false, sour note at the end of a well-sung song.

He paused for a moment, frowning over the metaphor. It wasn’t normal for him to like music, but ever since he’d gained [Warsinger], he’d started to think in terms of rhythm and harmony more. Was it a side effect of the [Experience], or was it something natural that happened when you spent half your time working with [Chants]? Maybe he’d ask Olivia once he got home.

Clay tried not to think about the fact that he was absolutely sure she was going to be there by the time he arrived.

Instead, he turned his attention back to the party. They gathered around the spider, listening to Leonard. He sighed. It was going to take forever for them to level at this rate. He didn’t think any of them had even mentioned getting [Spiderbane] yet. It wasn’t like there were a ton of adult spiders left in the Tanglewood either; he’d been pretty dedicated to wiping out most of them. The only way that they were going to find more was by fortunate accident, or if they accidentally tripped over the thing hunting something else.

Or maybe someone else…

Clay smiled. He was fairly sure that he’d seen traces of an adult troll spider a little while ago. Maybe a little encouragement and some non-obvious wounds would set things up nicely for them. Feeling better, he set off through the Tanglewood to find the monster, trying not to whistle as he went.

The party was tired that day, with some of them complaining of exhaustion as they passed by his house. He tried to look innocent as they described running into five different adult spiders—three mantraps, and two trolls—but Olivia was already giving him looks before they left. When they were partway down the road, she shook the sickle at him. “Really? What happened to being worried they would die?”

“I’ve gone from that to worrying we’ll die of old age before they get past Scout’s Hill.” Clay moved back a little as she shook it at him again. “Look, I wounded them a little, and stayed close to make sure they were okay. It turned out fine, didn’t it?”

Olivia glared at him a bit longer and then sighed. “I suppose so. Still, I cannot fully agree with convincing them they have mastered this place. Not with you weakening their opponents.”

Clay shrugged. “It’s like what I did with the spiderlings. Gave them hints and clues so that they could get used to how it all works. Soon they’ll be ready to take on the adults on their own terms.”

She turned and started hacking away at another thornbush. He noticed she was getting better at it. “And when they do well there, you’ll move them up to fighting elder spiders?”

“If there are any left, maybe.” Clay shook his head. He’d been making extra trips out to the valley each day to make sure those monsters weren’t coming back. So far, he’d killed sixteen or so of each; by his last count, that meant there were less than ten left total between both mantraps and trolls. Hopefully, more wouldn’t be waiting inside the Lair, but he had no way of knowing that.

“Just don’t stretch yourself too far, Clay.” She smiled. “I think we’d all like you to live through this. Especially in the next couple of weeks.”

Clay looked across a stretch of blackened forest.

He’d set this spot of the webbed trees on fire nearly two days ago; the blaze had long since been put out by the surviving elder mantraps, though the remnants of the webs they had used had long since dissolved. None of them were around now, however. Clay had set another pair of fires on the opposite side of the Lair, and the remaining elders had gathered in that spot to put them out. They were running short of help, now; his attacks had been enough to kill almost all of them, to the point that there were actual signs of weeds popping up in the burnt spaces where mantraps were no longer present.

Several of those small weeds were here, speckled amidst the ash and soot. He took it as a sign that nothing would pop out of the ground at him. The skies were clear as well. Dark grey clouds were looming overhead, and the elder troll spiders had learned to fear flight, anyway.

He glanced at those clouds, trying to judge the weather. It was already afternoon; the adventurers had long since gone home after their midday meal, and Olivia had sent him off to the Tanglewood early so that she could ‘get some more [Might] training’ in. Clay had needed to hide his chuckles; her version of training was just the daily chores he’d had since he had reached [Youth] all that time ago. All the same, he was proud of her. She had her goals and was working towards them.

It reminded Clay of himself all those weeks ago.

Clay shook off the thoughts and focused on the ground in front of him. There was no sign of a trap here, and he had already resolved to get a look at the defenses inside the Lair itself. He didn’t think he was quite ready to fight the Guardians yet, but he wanted to get a look before he ran out of time. Just like before, he’d scout the place, and then retreat to safety with what he’d learned.

Feeling uncomfortably exposed, he took his first step onto the burnt ground. Ash crunched beneath his foot, seeming unnaturally loud. Clay winced, and then kept going, keeping a wary eye on the skies and listening for the scrapes of burrowing mantraps. Nothing reached his senses, so he kept moving, crossing the bare space as quickly as he could. His paranoia was burning every step of the way, but he pushed himself forward. The work had to get done. There wasn’t much time now before the monsters unleashed the next swarm.

Before long, he reached the edge of the burnt space, where the webbed trees gave way to the ruins he’d half glimpsed beneath the webbing. Up close, he could see them far more clearly. They were half-collapsed and decayed beneath the layers of spidersilk, but he thought he could make out the shapes of houses and barns. There had been a small community of people living here, not just an isolated hermit. He wondered, briefly, what had happened to them all. Had they just been the first victims of the spiders when the Curse had taken hold?

His first question, of course, was how he was supposed to get further in without alerting whatever monster had woven the webs. They didn’t look the same as the ones the mantraps had built to alert themselves, but he had no doubt that they could serve a similar purpose. There had to be a way past them, however. Otherwise, how did the spiderlings leave the area where they spawned without being caught and killed?

Clay thought about it for a minute, taking shelter beneath the crumbling ash of a burnt tree. Then he caught sight of a small hole through the webs located in the space between a pair of walls. Webbing covered the gap at chest height, but if he stayed low…

A moment later, his common sense was screaming at him about how stupid he was while he slipped carefully between the webs, trying his hardest not to breathe too loudly in case that would trigger the drifting strands.

Once he got through that crumbling alley, however, the webs grew less pervasive. He found himself in a small cobblestone intersection, where webs stretched from the remnants of destroyed roofs to connect to long-rotted carts or a well he knew better than to trust. Tufts of wild grass sprang up from between the stones, though it looked…unnatural somehow, as if the dark blades had formed from the corruption of the place instead of in spite of it.

Keeping his eyes sharp, Clay moved forward again, watching for signs of other, more subtle webs running across the stones. A gust of wind moved through the square, and he jerked backwards as a strand of gossamer spidersilk nearly brushed his teeth. Unnerved, but determined, he continued on.

The hollow, darkened windows of long-empty houses watched him as he drew closer to the tower, his breath coming faster as it loomed over him. He knew the Guardians had to be there, in the center of it all. A pulsing beat of evil seemed to match time with his own pounding heart, drawing him closer to where the Curse had to be hiding.

He reached the central courtyard of the ruins a short while later, and he grunted in displeasure at what he found. Webs surrounded the entire base of the tower. They covered everything, making a complex tent of traps that extended from midway up the tower to the streets below. The only gaps in the webs that he could see were just open enough that he could imagine a spiderling scrambling through them. There was no chance that he could crawl through them. Clay had a brief mental image of him being wrapped in webbing and screaming as a wave of spiders came at him.

Clay shivered and took a step back from the spot. Perhaps he’d seen enough of the place for the day; if he turned back now, he might still catch Olivia at the farm and spend some time with her. He could think over what he’d already seen, and how he could bypass the traps of the place without throwing himself into them now. There was still a little more than a week until the swarm started, after all, and there were still a handful of elder spiders he could exterminate first.

Then the air seemed to grow still. Something pulled his gaze up along the tower, to where one of the smashed windows gaped like a wound partway up the structure. There was a…figure of some kind, crouching in the darkness that surrounded the towers. It was utterly still, but he thought he could make out the bulbous shape of the head, and the bent angle of a leg. A giant eye gleamed wetly, and he felt a sudden burst of fear.

He resisted the urge to run. Not yet. Instead, he whispered the Orison, keeping his gaze fixed on the thing. It seemed to take forever for it to complete, and yet when it did, his blood seemed to freeze.

[Guardian Broodmother Spider (Mantrap)]

[Rank: 10, Type: Spider, Status: Lord of Tanglewood Lair]

[Type Kills: 0, Deaths Caused: 56]

[Instincts: Guardian, Creator, Commander, Eternal]

Rank ten. Rank ten and he was level six. And there were two of those inside.

So. He’d wanted to know how bad it would be. Now he knew. Clay suddenly felt that now was an incredibly good time to go.

He began to turn. His boot caught on an ancient stone. It popped loose and skittered across cobblestones that hadn’t felt the tread of human feet for generations.

The sound was louder than any shout Clay had ever heard.

Dread pooled inside him, and slowly, he turned his head back to the tower. His heart seemed to freeze as two large, hairy arms silently extended from the window. Still in shadow, eight eyes larger than his head glimmered in the darkness. They were fixed on him. It had seen him.

Terror froze him for a moment—and then it was buried under a burning flood of anger and rebellion. It wasn’t the first monster he’d seen, and hideous as this nightmare was, it would not be the last.

So instead of remaining paralyzed in place, and instead of fleeing immediately, Clay faced the Guardian, made a rude gesture that Amelia Evergreen would never have approved of, and ran back the way he’d come. He was already beginning the [Chant] for the Ballad of Air as he ran; he wouldn’t have time to squeeze his way out, not now.

{Valor increases by 1!}

Behind him, a chittering howl began, seeming to run right through his bones as he fled, hoping against hope that he’d make it back home without dragging that thing along at his heels.