Common Clay

In the end, it took him nearly four days of hard labor to get the fields back into shape.

It was not a pleasant task, especially compared to the relatively less demanding work on his father’s farm. Clearing the thornbushes alone would have tried the patience of a better man; he almost thought he suffered more damage from them than he had from the spiders. Fortunately, Clay no longer noticed the pain in his leg anymore, although that may have been because every part of his body ached so badly that it would have been difficult to pick out one spot above another.

At the end of the time, however, the fields were once again mostly under control. He still had plenty of stumps to pull up, and he’d need to beg or borrow a plow to dig through some of the fields, but a good-sized chunk of it was now clear. Clay was confident that with just a few more hours each day, he’d be able to make room for enough to live off of soon.

He’d even managed to make a little bit of time for some hunting—actual hunting, not fighting spiders. Moving around the regular woods near his home was a bit odd, but it put a bit of rabbit and squirrel meat in his food, so it was better than subsisting on old beans, at the very least.

Even better, both [Fortitude] and [Might] increased by the end of the fourth day, giving him three of his [Stats] at maximum level. He assumed that the increase could only help him when he reentered the Tanglewood, and the extra sleep would only make him more alert.

So it was that on the morning of the fifth day of his return to the farmhouse, he took up his tools and weapons and marched into the Tanglewood, confident that he could continue hunting the monsters down. It might take some time, and there would be challenges, but soon enough, the village would be free of the plague in these woods.

He’d only been in the Tanglewood for less than a half hour when all of his assumptions came crashing down.

When last he’d left the place, the population of monsters had been…stable. Their numbers hadn’t increased dramatically. In fact, they had been growing harder to find, some days, and they had not pushed any closer to his home despite his efforts to lure out and destroy the larger versions of the abominations. Some part of him had hoped that he would be able to just hunt them to extinction over the coming months, or at least that his efforts were keeping them in check.

Now, though, it was as if they had gone berserk. Troll spiderlings were everywhere, practically hanging from every branch. Mantrap spiderlings hid under every nook and cranny of the woods, and some of them hadn’t even managed to dig themselves a burrow yet. All of them were more than willing to spring at him, though, and only his too-sharp senses helped him to bring his weapons to bear on each threat in time.

The only reason they didn’t sweep over him in a tide of spider-flesh was the fact that they seemed as intent on hunting each other as they were him. He saw troll spiderlings carrying off mantraps into the branches, while mantrap spiderlings dragged unfortunate trolls into their burrows. The spiderlings fought amongst themselves as well; mantraps clashed their venomous fangs on the shells of their own kind, while trolls maneuvered and captured one another in their nets. Their fratricidal nature at least made it a general melee instead of the unstoppable invasion that would have doomed him.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t just the spiderlings that were out actively hunting now.

He’d killed a troll spiderling and started to drag it towards a nearby tree, when he heard a squeal from a nearby mantrap spiderling. Clay had dropped the corpse, moving to hide himself, and had barely enough time to take cover behind a tree when an adult mantrap spider appeared to take the body.

Realization hit a moment later. He wouldn’t have hours to put his traps into place now. If he wanted to kill the larger versions of the spiders in this environment, he’d need to work faster. It would be a risk, but it was a risk he had to take if he wanted to survive the madness around him.

Clay spent an hour killing as many spiderlings as he could, as fast as he could. Then a second hour went by, and a third. By the time he’d reached the fourth hour, his arms were aching, but there were still monsters all around him. How many of the things were there? Clay had already lost count of how many bodies he’d left behind him.

By the fifth hour, he was desperate for any sign of progress. When he killed a troll spiderling beneath a large tree, he brought out the meat hook immediately. Shoving it into the thing’s head, he looped the cord back over the tree’s largest branch, arranged it as well as he could, and then hid behind the trunk.

A mantrap spider arrived a moment later, approaching in its odd, jerking manner. This time, he realized it was moving much faster, not bothering to scan the forest as deeply as it moved. Had this strange feeding frenzy affected it as well? Clay waited with a pounding heart, hoping that a troll spiderling didn’t choose that moment to spring at him from the surrounding trees.

Only heartbeats later, and the mantrap struck at the corpse, sinking its fangs into the dead spiderling’s head. Clay ran forward, attempting to pull as hard and as long as he could. He heard a familiar squeal-cough behind him and felt the weight of the monster on the line.

He made it five strides before he came up short. Moving quickly, he wrapped the cord around a nearby root and then hammered in a stake to keep it steady. Then he ran back, his spear in his hand, hoping the line would hold. The thing was scrambling and flailing wildly; the hook had ripped partway through its jaws. Clay got there before one of the spiked limbs found the cord.

An accurate pair of spear thrusts later, and the notification appeared.

{Mature Mantrap Spider slain! Soul increases by 30}

Clay stared at the corpse, breathing hard from the exertion. Then he realized that the large corpse would draw more spiders like sour meat drew flies. He took out his axe, hacked the meat hook free of the corpse, and ran while the corpse collapsed onto the dirt.

He made it behind a tree before three troll spiderlings and two mantrap spiderlings started a fight over the body.

It took him another hour to clear out enough space for the next trap, and even then, he didn’t dare fully set the entire snare. He killed the spiderling, set the hook, and threw the cord over a limb. There was barely enough time for him to get into position before the mantrap spider showed up, leaping along the ground, its fangs still wet from its last meal.

Clay gritted his teeth, feeling his heart pound and his hands shake. How much longer could he keep going? How many hours had he been in the Tanglewood, anyway? He’d been planning on a short four-hour stint. How had it devolved into this kind of madness?

The mantrap struck, and he charged. He felt the hook bury itself in the thing’s gullet, and his smile was vicious. It didn’t matter. Clay would do it for as long as he needed to.

{Mature Mantrap Spider slain! Soul increases by 15}

It was his third adult mantrap kill of the day; three more and he’d exhaust the type in terms of Soul gain.

Clay stepped back from the corpse and glanced up at the branches. There weren’t any troll spiders or spiderlings descending on him already. The light was already fading from the sky. How long had he been fighting?

Nearly shaking from fatigue, he started to cut his hook free. He didn’t want any of the smaller ones to group up on him. If the light was fading, he’d be fighting in the dark soon. That didn’t seem to be a very good idea, even to his combat-addled mind. The part of him that wanted to keep going, to keep slaughtering the monsters, was outmatched by the part of him that recognized how much more dangerous the enemy would be. It was time to get home.

Clay turned to head for the edge of the Tanglewood, as the surrounding forest filled with the sound of the nearest spiderlings closing in on the corpse. He’d come back again the next day. His fight here wasn’t yet over. Not by a long shot.

He was awake.

It happened suddenly, as if someone had kicked open a door. His finger reached automatically out to the spear he’d left at the side of the bedroll, bringing it up and pointing it towards the front door of the farmhouse. He took three shallow breaths before he realized it was still closed, and that only the first glow of early morning light was leaking through the doorway.

Clay had staggered into the farmhouse late last evening. His exhaustion had made it hard to focus, but he’d somehow cleaned himself off and made himself a small meal before collapsing into his bed. His sleep had been deep and dreamless, and he still didn’t know exactly what had woken him. Had it been a nightmare?

He shook his head to clear it, still unwilling to let go of his spear. A spiderling had never followed him from the Tanglewood before, but with the frenzy that had infected the monsters, he had not been sure. Perhaps even one of the larger ones might have tracked him down somehow. If it hadn’t been for his fatigue, he might not have even slept.

After another long moment, Clay managed to stand up. Every move sent pain screaming through him. The fighting the day before had been more tiring than any farmwork he’d ever done. Yet he didn’t see any other option. If the spiders got any closer to the village…

Clay spent the rest of the morning preparing himself. He made a breakfast of bean porridge, and then a pair of meat pies that would hopefully serve as his next two meals. Then he filled his waterskin, took up his weapons, and headed for the forest. Maybe it would be better today.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t, but at least the [Gift] rewarded him with a point of [Will] the instant he stepped into the Tanglewood.

He killed four spiderlings in the first half hour. Clearly, whatever instinct was driving the things crazy had continued. This time, however, Clay tried to keep himself calm, to plan out his next move. If all he did was kill spiderlings, things would not improve. Advancing meant hunting bigger prey.

So instead of charging in wildly, Clay focused on clearing out yet another area to use as his trapping ground. It took the better part of two hours, but he managed to set up a decent trap for the first adult mantrap spider. The thing died quickly, and he moved on shortly afterward, leaving it to be consumed by the others.

Clay repeated the strategy in another spot an hour later, killing the second adult spider of the day. By the time he got the third trap set, he was already aching from fatigue, making him wonder if he was even going to last through the end of the day.

Still, he set the trap, readying himself, and soon enough, the thing was hooked and gutted. The instant it went still, he got the notification he’d been hoping for.

{Mature Mantrap Spider slain! Soul increases by 15}

{Achievement Reinforced! Spiderbane: 15% increase to all skills and damage against spiders. Bonus increases to 30% versus Mantrap Spiderlings, Troll Spiderlings, and Mature Mantrap Spiders.}

He let himself relax a little, still breathing hard from the attack. He’d finally killed the tenth adult mantrap. The bonus from it would hopefully make it just that much easier to deal with both the spiderlings and at least one of the adult versions. Unfortunately, if he wanted to gain any further Soul, he’d need to start going after the adult trolls now.

Clay recovered his hook and cord and then staggered away from the site. He could already hear the other monsters coming, and judging by the hole that seemed to be trying to eat his insides, he needed to pause long enough to eat before he started on the next phase of his plans.

He spent the rest of the day killing spiderlings and growing more used to his newly increased abilities. Spiderlings were almost simple to track and kill now, and even the mature mantraps were easy to identify. He didn’t bother killing any more of those yet, however. Instead, he spent a bit of time observing how the troll spiders moved and hunted. He’d need to know exactly how they were acting during this time of frenzy if he wanted to kill them consistently once he started.

By the time he staggered home, he’d killed so many spiderlings that a part of him wondered if they would run out soon.

The next day, he repeated the entire effort, only this time, he was hunting fresh prey.

Clay tracked down a mantrap spiderling that had actually made itself a burrow. It was located partway between a pair of large trees that looked absolutely perfect. He moved quietly, locating the handholds on the tree opposite the burrow. When he triggered the spiderling and killed it, he moved quickly, clambering up the opposite tree and perching on one of the largest branches.

It was only a short time later that the troll spider arrived.

In his time observing them, Clay had noticed that the things preferred to approach their prey from behind if possible. It could have been a habit, just like the head strike was for the adult mantraps, but in either case, the thing was usually very careful to examine the ground around their target while they wrapped it. Ambushers would find it a hard target.

As long as they were attacking from the ground, at least.

Clay carefully drew out his harpoon, which had a double length of cord fastened to it. He looped the cord around the branch he stood on, making sure it would move freely. Clay made sure to leave enough of a length on the cord for the harpoon to reach its target and then looked at the spider. It was still focused on wrapping the corpse and examining the ground.

He hefted the harpoon. It was lighter than the boar spear; he hoped it would fly true, and that it would have enough weight behind the impact to stick in the beast. Clay drew in one breath, and let it out slow.

Then he hurled the harpoon as hard as he could, hitting the troll spider in its back. The weapon buried itself deep, and the ear-searing screech of the monster filled the forest.

Clay didn’t wait for it to respond. Gathering the other end of the cord in his hands, he leapt from the tree branch. The hum of the cord on the tree branch joined the troll spider’s scream; bits of tree bark and splinters showered down on him as he felt the weight of the troll spider catch on the cord. His own weight still worked to pull at it, though, and he caught sight of the spider being yanked from the other tree trunk and into the air, its long limbs unable to hold it in place or catch onto anything.

The instant his feet hit the ground, Clay lunged in the opposite direction from the spider, running as hard as he could. If he could keep the momentum going, keep the spider hurtling through the air—

He heard a mangled, crunching sound as the spider made contact with the tree. Clay didn’t bother looking back; he just kept running until the cord suddenly went loose in his hands. Then he spun, bringing his spear up.

The troll spider slammed into the ground with a chorus of snapping sounds, its scream cutting off for a moment. He could see the harpoon still buried in its body, but the state of its limbs was what caught his attention. Every leg on the spider's body seemed to have snapped or twisted, causing it to writhe on the ground in clear agony. It could no longer fully roll off its back.

Clay set aside the spear and brought out his bow. He put two clean shots into the monster, and then relaxed as it went still.

{Mature Troll Spider slain! Soul increases by 30}

{Will increased by 1!}

He looked around for a moment, taking stock of the situation. Then he ran forward. The rest of them would probably be coming, and he needed to recover the harpoon and the arrows, if he could. After all, he’d need to use them again soon.

{Mature Troll Spider slain! Soul increases by 30}

{Commoner reaches Level 4!}

{Maximum level for all Stats is now 19!}

{Experience gained (Exterminator: Gain double the bonus from all Bane Achievements.)}

{Experience gained (Determined: Fatigue lessened by 10%. Wounds heal 5% faster. Gain 10% bonus to repetitive or familiar activities.)}

Clay lowered his bow, distracted from the corpse of his second troll spider kill of the day. He’d forgotten about the advancement to the next level, but he’d reached it all the same. The effects were immediate; the weariness he’d been feeling suddenly lessened, and the aches in his muscles faded a little as well. He supposed he was going to be grateful for [Determined] over the next few days. After all, it didn’t seem like the spiders were going to get any fewer.

As for [Exterminator]…

He looked back at the corpse of the troll spider. He needed another seven to reinforce [Spiderbane], but even without the specific bonus for adult trolls, it would make it that much easier to deal with the others. In fact, he could almost sense the spiderlings out there, skittering towards him. A part of him was tempted to face them head on, but that wouldn’t have accomplished his goals.

So instead, he went forward to recover his weapons and get ready for the next trap.

The next two days blended into a haze of slaughter.

Each morning he rose, his hand darting for his spear or his axe. When he could breathe again, he dully went through the motions to prepare his rations and his weapons, whatever he could carry into the Tanglewood. Every time he stepped foot into the forest, the [Gift] awarded him a point of [Will]; apparently he was showing some sort of stubbornness by continuing the fight.

Spiders died on his spearpoint, on the edge of his axe, or shot through by his bow. He took another three adult troll spiders on the first day, in addition to countless spiderlings and a pair of adult mantraps. By the second day, he’d gained another point of [Might], and just as the light was fading, he finally brought down a third adult troll spider.

{Achievement Reinforced! Spiderbane: 20% increase to all skills and damage against spiders. Bonus increases to 40% versus Mantrap Spiderlings, Troll Spiderlings, Mature Mantrap Spiders, and Mature Troll Spiders.}

Clay grunted in satisfaction. He wasn’t sure how the additional bonuses would change his tactics, but he’d already been seeing enough differences. His axe could split a mantrap spiderling in half with a single hit, and a single slingstone was often enough to smash the life from a troll spiderling. He hadn’t tried facing an adult mantrap spider in the open yet, but the hooks he placed for them struck true every time, and nearly seemed to kill them. A single spear thrust was nearly always enough to finish the job. It wouldn’t surprise him if the harpoon strike nearly finished the troll spiders now too.

Exhaustion dragged at him, though. He’d been running on pure adrenaline and anger for days now, days that involved spending virtually the entirety of daylight fighting. How much longer could he keep it up? The number of spiders had started to decrease, finally. They remained more numerous than they had been, but he was seeing the end of the frenzy. Just a few more days, and maybe he could stop.

A wave of fatigue crashed over him, beyond even what [Determined] could reduce. His vision actually blurred for a moment, but he steadied himself by placing a hand against the nearest tree trunk. He couldn’t stop now. Not while they were still out there. There was no one else; Clay had to see it done.

So, one foot in front of the other, he continued forward. He had at least a few more hours of light left, and he intended to use them.

Clay inspected the broken arrow for a moment and then tossed it back alongside the troll spider corpse. He had three left now, and he wasn’t sure how long they would last.

The war he was fighting had been rough on his equipment. His meat hook had snapped that morning, and the harpoon—

Clay sighed. He’d lost the harpoon the day after he’d reinforced [Spiderbane]. It had gone clean through the troll spider he’d thrown it at and buried its head in the tree trunk beneath. The barbed head had been impossible to remove from the wood, so he’d been forced to leave it there, pinning the corpse to the tree. Since then, he’d had to use arrows, or to risk throwing his boar spear. Each time he tried the spear, he had a momentary nightmare where his best weapon either broke or got stuck. So far, however, it had either killed or crippled every troll spider he’d caught.

The adult mantraps had been a different story. Without the hook, he’d been using the bow to start the ambush, and then spearing them while they staggered. Far too many of his arrows had snapped off in their armored hides, but at least he was killing them quickly. The ones that survived the arrows died on his spear or under his axe; his increased strength against them let him break through their shell easily.

He heard skittering in the undergrowth to his left and grabbed his axe. A mantrap spiderling, by the sounds of it, and one that seemed confident of its stealth. It leapt at him immediately, fangs poised to strike.

Clay hit it with a horizontal strike, smashing it to the side. It tumbled through old leaves and fresh ichor. The notification came a moment later.

{Mantrap Spiderling slain!}

He ignored it, inspecting the edge of his axe. It was growing dull already, though he had tried to spend a little time sharpening it the night before. How long before it was too dull to cut? Increased strength or not, he needed a sharp edge to kill. His fight would not go well if they reduced him to using a short club to fight with.

One of the nearby branches swayed slightly, and Clay glanced up to see the troll spiderling slowly creeping through the trees toward him. He sighed and set a stone in his sling. A little spin built up momentum, and he stood up to throw it. It had gathered itself for the leap when the stone hit it. Ichor and limbs spattered in different directions, and another corpse joined the group on the ground with a wet thump.

{Troll Spiderling slain!}

While the corpse twitched, he checked his pouch for stones again. Only one left. Not great either. Maybe he could spend a few minutes searching for more down by a dry riverbed he’d found.

He started in that direction, only to pause as he caught sight of a lump of stone moving along the treeline to his left. Interesting; the mantrap spider must have been in the area to react so quickly. Most of them had grown cautious in the past day or so. Maybe the bold ones had died early.

Clay stowed the axe and sling and readied his spear. The weapon had seen a lot of hard work in the past few hours. He hoped it was up to one more kill, at least.

The mantrap approached quickly, each leap shifting its position. They didn’t seem as quick as they had before; perhaps the bonuses were making it easier for his eyes to track the motion. Clay pretended as if he couldn’t see it, though. He wanted it overconfident, wanted it eager. He tried whistling, rubbing a cloth over the spearhead.

It jumped again, this time coming just barely within reach. Before it could move again, Clay raised the spear and smashed it down, like an improvised club. The mantrap’s armored shell cracked like an egg, and the spider curled up on itself with a shocked scream. As it curled in the leaves, Clay lunged in with the spearpoint, stabbing it through the head. He wrenched it back and forth, and the thing died.

{Mature Mantrap Spider slain!}

One more monster dead, and countless more to go. He straightened up, freeing his spear with a jerk, and continued onward. He’d need those slingstones if he was going to make it until nightfall.

By the time he staggered home, the sun was already setting. He had exactly one arrow and two slingstones left, and both his spear and axe needed the attention of a whetstone. Exhaustion anchored him down, making each step seem like it was moving through mud. Hunger gnawed at him too; he hadn’t had the time to hunt, so meat pies were a distant dream by now, and the hardtack he’d been using was nowhere near enough to fill him. It was a struggle to make any plans at the moment, but he tried to make a note to himself to make more to eat.

When he made it out of the Tanglewood, he smiled in relief. He’d long since abandoned the fear that the monsters would follow him out. Clay had made a habit of cleaning all the ichor out of his clothes, but it almost seemed like once he’d killed enough of them, they started to try to avoid him. At the very least, they’d been harder to track down today. Was their frenzy finally done? How many days had it lasted? Six? Seven, now?

He staggered further along the path that ran by the Tanglewood, hoping he’d reach home before he collapsed. The night before had been a near thing…

His thoughts trailed off as he caught sight of the farmhouse. It was exactly where he remembered it, of course; houses didn’t move on their own, right? Only, something was off…

Clay frowned. Smoke was coming from the chimney. Had he left a fire going? He could’ve burned down the house, if he had. Was he really that tired?

He staggered up to the front door of the house, his mind still fogged by fatigue. When he pushed the door open, it took a few moments for him to recognize what he was looking at. Clay stopped and stared. “H-Herbert?”

The [Guard] looked up at him. He was sitting in Clay’s chair by the fire, poking at it with a branch. “Well, it’s good to see you, Clay! Welcome home.”

Clay stared at him a moment longer. His mind was struggling to focus. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, just checking up on you.” Herbert stood slowly. His expression was utterly unreadable. “The baron sent me by to make sure you were all right. I guess someone thought the fields weren’t being cared for. They were worried that you had been hurt somewhere.”

“I…I’m fine.” Clay tried to force a smile. It came out crooked; even he could tell that. “Just a little tired. I guess I’ve been getting distracted.”

“I’ll say. I mean, it looks like you haven’t been clearing anything over the past week.” The [Guard] was watching him closely still. He noticed that Herbert’s quarterstaff was propped up against the nearby wall. That detail seemed important for some reason. “You know, I’m being insensitive. Let’s get you off your feet.”

The suggestion sounded suspicious, but Clay was too tired to figure it out. He staggered towards the chair like it was the last firm piece of ground left in the world. As he half-fell into the seat, nearly tipping it over. While he did so, Herbert grabbed hold of his spear. “Hey, nice spear! I think I remember seeing you with it before.”

“Yeah. It’s for hunting.” The lie was incredibly unconvincing, even to his addled brain.

“Oh, is that what you’ve been doing? Too bad it seems like you haven’t had much fortune.” Herbert examined the spear’s point carefully, as if he had noticed something interesting. “You seem to have been working really hard at it, though.”

Clay shrugged, unable to come up with a convenient story to tell. Herbert leaned the spear over by his own quarterstaff and then leaned back against the table.

“You know, the baron had me with him when he was clearing out those Undead the other day. Did you hear about that?”

He nodded numbly. Herbert smiled, and then continued. “It was a serious problem out there, in the Sarlwood. We got caught in some kind of ambush. The Undead were everywhere. Then they started going down, and the baron finished the job.” The [Guard] paused. “After the fight, we looked around a little. Turns out there were even more Undead out there. Found a ton of them out in the woods.”

Herbert smiled again. He crossed his arms across his chest. “With axe and spear wounds. Like something your weapons could leave.”

Clay froze, his mind too blurry to think straight. What could he say? “That’s…interesting.”

“Isn’t it?” Herbert leaned forward. “The baron was extremely curious about it. Said something about maybe having a Rogue running around, hunting Undead on their own. I think he’s had half his men down there, still searching around for them.”

“Oh.” Clay blinked. A Rogue? It was the word for someone that had an adventuring [Class], but had somehow avoided going to the capital for training and had not sworn an oath to the King. The local nobility typically looked on Rogues with suspicion, and most Rogues were eventually pressured into swearing the loyalty oaths. Those who continued to refuse had a rather…mixed reputation.

“Yeah, I’m sure they were hoping to find them. To thank them for their help.” Herbert sat back again. The tone of his voice seemed a little sarcastic to even Clay’s weary mind.

“You don’t think they’ll find him?” Clay tried to smile.

“I think they’re looking in the wrong place.” Herbert’s voice grew hard, and the hair on the back of Clay’s neck rose. Was the [Guard] going to attack him? Could Clay resist him if he did? He was so tired. Why did he have to deal with this now, of all times?

The [Guard] continued in that hard, unflinching voice. “I don’t know how you convinced the Rector to lie, but you’re going to be honest with me. What [Class] are you, really? [Knave]? [Burglar]? [Occultist]? What level are you now? Why are you still here, instead of in the capital, with your friends?”

Clay stared at him for another moment. The tension between them increased; Herbert seemed on the edge of jumping for his staff.

Then Clay laughed. He couldn’t help it; the entire situation was just too ridiculous. He laughed until he was out of breath, and even then, he kept chuckling. It took a while before he could finally scrape together enough words to answer. “I…I’m a [Commoner]. Just a [Commoner]. Like you.”

Herbert’s expression grew incredulous. “That’s a lie. I don’t believe you.”

“Believe whatever you want.” Clay shook his head. “I’m just a [Commoner], nothing special at all.”

“And you’re really telling me you’ve been out there hunting with a dull spear for a week?” Herbert’s jaw clenched. “You need a better story, because I’m not buying it.”

Clay opened his mouth to lie and then grimaced. “I was out hunting, just not…animals.”

The [Guard] opened his mouth again to respond, and then paused. “What do you mean?”

He weighed his options for a moment. Herbert seemed like a nice enough person, and the truth was that if the baron kept thinking there was a Rogue out in Sarlwood, someone was going to get hurt. Even if they didn’t, they’d eventually find the cave, and all the extra Undead bodies would only make things worse.

Besides, he needed rest, and Herbert obviously would not give him any until this was over.

“I’ve spent the past week in the Tanglewood, killing spiders.”

“Spiders.” Herbert smirked. He leaned back on the table. “Did you need your spear to help you squash them?”

Clay snorted. “Kind of.” He leaned forward. “The big kind. Monsters. They’d eat people, if they could.”

Herbert raised his eyebrows. Then his expression changed, and the laughter faded. “Wait a minute. You’re saying—”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m saying.” Clay stood up and went over to his hiding spot. He dug out the sketches and the notes, handing them back to the [Guard]. “There’s two types of them out there, at least. Probably a full Lair out there too, I think. Haven’t gotten that far in.”

Herbert shifted through the notes, his expression incredulous. Clay didn’t know if the man could read, but the pictures told a fairly good story on their own. “So in the Sarlwood—”

“That was me.” Clay half-sat, half-fell back into the chair. He scrubbed his face with both hands. “I’m sorry I wasn’t faster. Did the ones on the ground make it out okay?”

The [Guard] stared at him a moment longer, still disbelieving. “Mark and Sarah are both fine. Recovering, now.” He looked back at the notes in his hands and shook his head. “So what [Class] are you then? You’ve been fighting these things alone?”

“I already told you, I’m a [Commoner].” Clay held up a hand when Herbert started to protest. “I’m a [Commoner]…and I’m level four. So what do you say about that?”