Common Clay

It took a little while for Herbert to calm down after that. Mostly it took Clay pointing at the notes, pointing at the worn edges on his equipment, and finally insisting that he needed to rest before he answered any other questions. Eventually the [Guard] wound down, and Clay was able to tuck himself in to sleep, under the watchful eye of the baron’s man.

When he woke, it was to the smell of a freshly cooked breakfast, and the sight of an intensely impatient [Guard]. Clay groaned a bit, but he levered himself up and out of his bedroll, regardless. His head felt like he had spent the previous day pounding his head against the wall of his house, and the rest of his body felt much the same.

As he sat up, Herbert handed him a plate with eggs and bacon on it. Clay nearly fainted from the smell; it was absolutely glorious. He dug in with a will, and the [Guard] waited with ill-concealed anticipation for him to finish.

Eventually, the food had to end, and Clay set aside the plate with a sigh. “Thanks. I needed that.”

“I could tell.” Herbert grinned slightly, and his shoulders relaxed just a little. He was the picture of a man calming himself. “Now, could you explain what you were talking about last night?”

Clay coughed into his hand. “I’m a [Commoner], and I’ve been killing monsters.” Clay shrugged slightly. “I’ve been doing it since a little after the Choosing. So far, I haven’t died yet.”

Herbert shook his head. “But that’s…you can’t…” The [Guard] grabbed his hair with both hands and pulled slightly. “You can’t kill monsters as a [Commoner]!”

“I have, though.”

“It’s not possible!” Herbert stood up from the table, pacing around the house. Every motion spoke of frustration. “A [Commoner] that tries to kill monsters is going to die. That’s how it works. That’s how it always works!”

He stopped pacing, clenching and unclenching his hands. “It’s why we wait for the adventurers to arrive. They handle the monsters. The rest of us have to support them.”

Clay spread his hands wide. “Well, I decided not to wait. The spiders are there. The Undead were there. So I’m fighting them.”

“You can’t just… you can’t…” Herbert threw his hands up and started pacing again. Clay watched and waited for him to wind down again. It took a while, but Clay had nowhere to be. He’d already decided that there was no way he was going to be able to return to the Tanglewood today. There was barely anything left to hunt with, anyway.

The [Guard]’s pacing eventually slowed again, only this time, the man seemed a lot more thoughtful. He looked back at Clay. “Nobody is going to believe this, are they? If I go back to the baron and tell him that his Rogue is just some [Commoner] running around, I’m going to look like a lunatic.”

Clay thought back to his father’s assumptions, back when he’d been caught in the barn. “Yeah, probably.”

Herbert muttered something impolite under his breath. “Are you planning on taking over the baron’s position? Or carrying off women for yourself? Or any of that other stuff they say Rogues do?”

Incredulous, Clay gestured around at the farmhouse. “Herbert, I live here. I just, you know, don’t want anyone to get eaten by giant spiders. Or turned into Undead conscripts. Or whatever other nightmares are out there.”

The [Guard] stared at him for a long moment. Then he came over to the table and sat on the edge of it again. “How bad is it in the Tanglewood? We’ve never paid it that much attention.”

Clay grimaced. He looked down at his hands, noticing exactly how rough and worn they were. Even farm labor hadn’t prepared him for that kind of work. “I had it under control for a bit, but…it’s like it went mad the past week. They were everywhere. Everywhere.”

His voice broke a little on that last word, and he was surprised to find his hands shaking. The room seemed to blur a little as he tried to stop. Maybe it wasn’t so bad, needing to pause for a moment. Another day might have been the end of him.

Herbert was still waiting for him to continue, and Clay shook himself. It became more of a full-body shiver that went on for a few moments before he finally felt steady enough to continue.

“I think it was some kind of…frenzy, or maybe an attempt to expand their territory? The only thing that kept it under control was the fact that they were attacking each other as well as hunting for me. It was slowing down yesterday and the day before, but I don’t know if it was done yet.”

“But the place is still contained.” Herbert’s voice was steady, but the worry in it was clear. “They aren’t going to come out of the forest at us yet.”

“No, not yet. At least, I don’t think so.” Clay shivered again. Why was he doing that? It wasn’t even cold. “I think they’ll at least stay in the Tanglewood, even the big ones. I need to head back in there soon, though, just to be sure.”

“What are you planning on hunting them with? Your teeth?” Herbert’s question seemed half-serious, but the [Guard] shook his head. “You’ll need supplies. And rest, by the looks of it. You can’t fight everything by yourself.”

“Not a lot of others ready to help—unless you think the baron is up for it.” Clay said the last part almost hopefully, but Herbert shook his head.

“Lord Pellsglade is a good man, but he isn’t a member of the Guild. If I tell him you’ve seen spiders in the woods, he’ll send for adventurers to help, but he isn’t going to go raiding deep into the Tanglewood with a [Commoner] for support.” Herbert shook his head, a disbelieving look on his face. “No offense, of course.”

Clay snorted. “None taken.” Then he sighed. “You’re not going to help either, are you?”

“Am I going to march myself into a den of giant spiders? No. I imagine the wife might not like that idea.” Herbert chuckled to himself. “I can try to help in some other ways, though. I’ll try to keep the baron from looking your way, and slip you some supplies if I can. Anything else, and you’re on your own.”

“Fair enough.” He supposed that expecting a man with a family to charge into the face of monsters was at least a little unreasonable. Still, it was hard not to feel a little bitter as he smiled again. “Anything else?”

Herbert shook his head. “Just…take care of yourself. If the worst happens, no one’s going to be able to come in after you.”

Clay thought of the monsters that he’d been hunting, of the way they struck and ate. “If the worst happens, there won’t be anything to come after, anyway.” He paused as another idea occurred to him. “Herbert, how many people know about Sarlwood? I mean, the whole Rogue thing.”

“Just the baron’s men, really. Lord Pellsglade has asked us to keep things quiet.” Herbert shrugged. “[Guards] talk, however. Eventually, the rumors will get out.”

Then Herbert stopped. His expression showed a dawning realization. “Who else knows you were in the Sarlwood?”

Clay sighed. His shoulder’s slumped. “My father. And one other.”

“Ah.” Herbert’s face grew sympathetic. “Well, I can try to keep the rest from talking, but they’ll probably find out eventually. I’d get ready for what that means.”

“I will. Thanks, and good fortune to you.”

Herbert nodded and grabbed his quarterstaff. He ducked out of the door and left Clay alone with his thoughts. He grimaced as he forced himself to get up and start his morning chores. It was clearly going to be an interesting week.

Clay spent the rest of that day recovering from his fight. It meant a day full of chores, but there was something soothing about that process. He washed and cleaned his clothing, which by now was badly in need of attention. Then he gave his spear and axe fresh edges, and he prepared a little more food for himself. There wasn’t any meat left to cook, and he made a note that he would need to go hunting—actual hunting, this time—to replenish his stores.

The fields were once again in rough shape, but not quite as badly overgrown as before. Clay spent some time trimming back the weeds and such that had grown up in his absence. He spent some more time digging around one of the tree trunks he had left in the field, chopping away at the roots until he could lever it out of the hole. With his additional [Might], it was far less of a chore than it had been, but that didn’t necessarily make it easy.

His farming tools needed a bit of maintenance as well, and he set to sharpening and repairing them with the same patience he’d shown for his spear and axe. It occurred to him that he could starve just as easily as he could die by spider. Perhaps he had grown a little…unbalanced in his efforts lately.

Worse than that, he’d left himself with virtually no way to replace his equipment. The baron’s coin was only going to go so far. A level four adventurer with no arrows still wasn’t going to be able to shoot anything, and if his spear broke the next time he used it, what was he going to do, use his bare hands?

There had to be some way to maintain himself, at least until the next growing season. Maybe he could actually hunt a little bit more and sell some of the excess? A small part of him toyed with the idea of selling off monster parts, but that would give himself away pretty quickly—in addition to attracting the attention of the spiders to town. Whatever coin he could get out of it, it wouldn’t be worth it.

He continued to think over the problem as he ripped up yet another bush of sablethorn, ignoring the small pricks that got through the thick gloves he wore. Maybe some of the nearby farms would also have work for him, though he doubted they would be much easier or more accommodating than his current situation. Besides, the farmers surrounding Pellsglade wouldn’t have that much coin to spare.

Would the baron have work for him? It might be another path to extra coin, but then it would make it that much more likely that he’d be exposed. After all, a [Noble] could recognize someone that had additional levels, right? Clay still wasn’t sure how the baron would react to that, even if he had helped the man out in Sarlwood. Better to avoid that problem for as long as possible.

No, the best possible route was probably to get enough of the fields cleared and plowed so that he could start planting something by the end of the summer. Trying to wait for the spring planting might be wiser, but he would fare better if he started sooner. It would probably be spinach or beets, first, and then he could expand from there.

Clay smirked to himself. At the very least, he could thank the Tanglewood for one thing; the lack of insects and wildlife might mean he had little to fear from pests and vermin. A small blessing, considering the source, but it would make it that much easier to avoid starvation—if something didn’t wander by and eat him first.

Turning his attention to the fields, he started looking for the best patch for his future beet crop, and began to clear it even further to prepare the ground. There was always more to do.

In the end, he spent well over three days in the fields, cutting back the wild until he had enough space for a decent planting field. Clay spent the entire time working on the farm, though he did eye the Tanglewood occasionally to make sure that nothing was crawling out after him. [Laborer] and [Determined] made the work easy, especially with his increased [Stats]. He made several visits to the Smallgroves, hunting in that relatively tame forest for squirrels and the like to put meat in his diet again. When rain came, he made the trek out to his father’s house to borrow a handplow, which he intended to use in the coming days.

It was on the third day after the rainstorm, however, that he was just sitting down to eat dinner and another knock sounded at his door.

Curious, he wondered if Herbert had come back with some news. He stood up and went to the door and found Olivia waiting on his front step, half-hidden in a cloak that seemed overly large on her small frame. She peered up at him with the same blank expression that he was used to seeing in the shrine down in the village and waited for him to realize that he hadn’t actually responded yet.

“Ah, it’s good to see you, Novice Olivia. Did the Rector have something he needed from me?”

“No.” Olivia fidgeted with her cloak a little; he could hear the rustle of parchment inside the cloth. “He has decided to grant me a free day. I am here of my own volition.”

“Oh.” Clay blinked in surprise. Given what had happened before, he hadn’t expected to see Olivia much anymore. She wasn’t well known for leaving the shrine at all, really, and the possibility of her coming out to the farmhouse had seemed unlikely. “Well, come in, I guess. Please excuse the repairs; I’m still working on the place.”

Olivia nodded and stepped in as he backed away. She waited quietly while he fetched the single chair for her and then sat delicately on the edge of it. “You did not come to town yesterday.”

“No, I had plenty of other work to do here.” He guessed he could have come down to buy something from Adam, but the storm had been a short one. He’d been back to clearing fields before the afternoon.

“You had been coming to the village whenever the rain struck, whether or not you visited the shrine.” She paused and fidgeted again on the chair. For some reason, she looked back at the door for a moment. “I was…concerned about you. I believed something might have happened.”

Clay frowned a little. He hadn’t expected her to worry that much. “No, I’ve just been working. It’s been…busy.”

“Yes. So I understand.” Olivia looked back at him. Her eyes were startlingly green in the dim light of his house. “One of the baron’s men, Jared, gave thanks in the shrine. He mentioned a Rogue helped the baron in the Sarlwood.”

The implied question was a bit too direct to miss. Clay sighed. He really had messed everything up by heading south, hadn’t he? “Yeah, that was me.” He turned to fetch a cup from a nearby water barrel, one that he’d spent an hour or two filling from the well. “I’m not a Rogue, though. Just someone trying to help.”

She accepted the cup, but didn’t drink. Her gaze was still locked onto him, like he was some text written in Old Balois that she was trying to figure out. “You said you were going to kill them. All of them.”

“Well, all the ones I can get to, anyway.” He gave her a small smile and then looked around wistfully for some place to sit. Maybe a visit to Adam for some more furniture would not go awry. “There weren’t actually all that many, but I wiped them out after the baron was done with them.”

“You saved him as well.” Olivia watched him nod, and then she glanced away. “The Lady Pellsglade was very generous with the shrine; she donated frequently. After illness took her, the baron has continued those donations in her place. Without them, I could not live here. I would be sent away.”

“Oh.” He really needed to find a more interesting way to respond. Clay scratched at the back of his head a moment, feeling every inch the dirt-covered [Laborer] he was. “I’m glad to hear that won’t change.”

“As am I.” She looked back at him, her eyes still sharp. “You’ve been entering the Tanglewood. You’ve been fighting monsters. As a [Commoner].”

“Yes.” Clay studied her, suddenly wary. She always had seemed a little uptight, but now the tension in her frame was almost painful to see. Was she planning on running off to tell the baron, now that she knew? “I’ve been doing my best to protect the town. To make it all safe. For everyone.”

Olivia stared at him a moment longer, a space of time that seemed to stretch on for hours. Then she nodded. “I am going to assist you.”

He blinked. “But you haven’t even reached your Choosing day! There’s no way I can—”

“I will not be entering the forest yet, but I can help in other ways.” Olivia drew out a thick sheaf of parchment. From the top page, he could see that almost every single inch of it was covered in her delicate, well-organized writing. “I have translated the entirety of the adventurer’s manual for you. In addition, I have included other notes that I have found in other locations within our library. There were other stories about adventurers that I felt could be given credence, and I have catalogued the techniques and information they used to fight the monsters they encountered.”

Clay stared at that parchment and then looked back at her. The intensity of her stare was almost overwhelming. “I—thank you. The knowledge you’ve already shared has been a great help.”

“In return, I expect you to share what you have already learned.” She looked around the house, her eyes almost immediately falling on the hiding place in the wall. “There. Let me see.”

The demand gave him no real option to refuse, short of kicking her out. Clay grunted and stomped over to retrieve the bundle of parchment he’d been scribbling on.

When he handed it to her, though, she grimaced as if he’d slapped her. “Your penmanship is atrocious. Your drawing is worse.” She tapped one picture of an adult mantrap gingerly with one finger. Clay suspected her disgust had as much to do with his artistic talent as with the subject matter. “I will rewrite these so that they are legible. Can you acquire an example of the monsters for me to examine?”

The question was so absurdly ridiculous that Clay burst out laughing before he could help it. He realized his mistake quickly, however, when he saw the red flare up in her cheeks and the anger in her green eyes. “Ah, I haven’t tried it yet. They are pretty dangerous, unfortunately.”

Her lips made a thin line. “I am sure that we can address that in the future.” She sorted through the parchment that she had laid on the table, searching for something. “What [Charms] and [Sigils] have you learned?”

“What?”

Olivia gave him a look that made him worry she would box his ears next. “I asked what [Charms] or [Sigils] you’ve learned. You have gained more than one level, have you not?”

Clay stared at her, dumbfounded. “I’m level four, but I haven’t gained anything like a [Charm] or [Sigil] or something. What are they?”

She frowned, turning her attention back to the sheets in front of her. “[Charms] are small incantations that provide temporary magical assistance. [Sigils] provide more permanent effects, though they are more limited in use.” Olivia glanced up at him. “The baron is capable of using at least two [Charms] in battle.”

Understanding dawned, and Clay nodded slowly. “Yeah, I saw that during the fight in the Sarlwood. He was throwing bolts of lightning… was that a [Charm]?”

Olivia nodded. “Yes, I believe so.” She stopped on another page. “Many adventurer [Classes] gain such things as they level up, especially the more magical ones like [Mage] or [Occultist]. Even some of the others, such as [Dark Knight] or [Paladin] can learn some.”

She sighed and set it aside. “Those [Classes] that don’t have magic often gain [Feats] or [Styles] instead. Have you gained any?”

Clay shook his head again. “No. What are those?”

“[Feats] appear to be special actions they can take on the battlefield, ones that increase their effectiveness temporarily. [Styles] are advantages they enjoy under certain conditions, or with certain equipment. [Fighters] and [Warriors] are known for them.” Olivia sat back in her chair with a sigh. “Have you at least been getting an [Experience] for each level? Every [Class] should get one of those each time they advance.”

He grunted. “Two. I’ve been getting two [Experiences] per level.”

Olivia paused. She looked over at him, her brow furrowing. “Every other [Class] has claimed one per level. It is remarkably consistent in the records I’ve found.”

“Well, I get two.” Clay leaned against the wall, feeling a bit more confident now. “Maybe that’s what I get instead of these other things?”

Olivia’s lips twisted into a frown. “Perhaps. Have your [Stats] been increasing as well?”

“Yes. The maximum goes up by one in each [Stat] so far.”

“Also curious. Most of other [Classes] increase by two in two [Stats], or by one in the other four at each level. Increasing by one in all six at once…” She shook her head. “Clearly, [Commoner] functions very differently compared to the others. Just as clearly, the magic you will have access to will be limited to [Chants].”

When he gave her a nonplussed stare, she sighed and continued. “[Chants] are magical spells that any [Class] can learn, but they have a higher requirement in terms of [Memory] than [Charms] or [Sigils]. They also require more time to use, but they can still be effective. I assume you’ve been increasing your [Memory] this whole time?”

Clay winced. “Not…exactly.”

Olivia seemed to struggle to contain herself for a moment. When she spoke next, it was clear that she remained frustrated. “Your [Experiences] are often related to the actions you’ve taken, and the [Stats] you’ve focused on. It is bad enough that you’re going to be limited to [Chants]; if you don’t prepare yourself to use them, you may never be able to. At all.”

He winced again, recognizing the hole he’d left in his own abilities. Memorization had never been a strong point of his, but he hadn’t realized what that would mean for him as he fought. Then again, he hadn’t even known how magic worked; how would he even gain access to any of these [Chants] in the first place?

As he opened his mouth to ask, Olivia separated out a smaller bunch of parchment, all covered in many lines of text. “You are to spend time each day memorizing these [Chants]. They are written in Middle Aergen, so I have included pronunciation below each line. Do this until you reach your maximum for [Memory], or until you can remember them well enough to use.”

Clay felt his eyes widen as she handed over the pages. The parchment was covered in line after line of text, both in an unknown script and more familiar half-syllables that told him what to actually say. “H-how many of these [Chants] have you found?”

“Forty-three.” Olivia gathered his own notes up and shoved them into a pocket in her cloak. Clay tried not to feel like he had just been mugged and bullied by a girl half his size and six months younger than he was. She stood up and studied him for a moment. “I will be coming to visit you when I can. If you are…out, I will stay here and wait for you.”

He nodded slowly. “Are you…certain? I don’t know how the village would see things. I mean, I wouldn’t say anything, but—”

Olivia’s face turned slightly red and looked away. Her voice, however, remained determined. “I do not have much reason to care about rumors, traveler. And I refuse to stand by when you might need my help.” She paused. “If you care so much about the whispers, then you can come and visit me in town. It is your choice.”

“I see. Thank you.” Clay didn’t particularly understand, but at the very least, she was giving him options.

Olivia stepped towards the door. She paused for a moment, reaching back towards him. For just a moment, her cold veneer fell away. “Clay, be careful. Please.”

The genuine request caught him off guard, but he nodded. “I will. Good fortune go with you.”

“And with you.” Olivia went out through the door. Clay stared after her, wondering what was going on. As if monsters and the baron weren’t enough to worry about, he now had her to worry about.

Then he looked back at the pages left on the table. At the very least, he’d have plenty of reading material at night. He sighed and pulled over the chair so that he could get started.

The morning after Olivia’s visit, Clay made his way back to the Tanglewood.

He did not want to commit himself to another twelve hour stretch killing spiders, but he couldn’t afford to ignore the place any longer. If the monsters were continuing to expand, he needed to know, and if there was a way to stop them, he probably would not find it in a future beet field.

All the same, he spent a good three hours working with the hand plow, turning over the soil in the strip of field he’d cleared. He spent another hour hunting down a few animals to eat later, and another two tending to the rest of the chores around the farm.

Then, after a short meal, he headed out into the Tanglewood, his axe and spear sharpened and his pouch full of slingstones. He still did not have any new arrows, but those could wait for another time. All he wanted was to see how badly things were going, not slaughter the monsters the way he’d done before.

To his surprise, the woods were no longer filled with crazed spiders, or at least no longer to the same extent. There were still occasional spiderlings hidden in the ground and the branches, but they weren’t literally everywhere. The adult versions of the things were no longer so immediately present, either. Had they withdrawn, or had the numbers of the things simply run low at last?

Curiosity drew him further into the woods, tracking the trails left by the spiders and spiderlings. Now that he’d thought about it, he hadn’t ever really pushed far into the Tanglewood; mostly he’d been struggling to hold the ground closest to his home. If the monsters were coming from a Lair, he’d need to find a way to it if he had any chance of stopping things, eventually.

With that in mind, Clay carefully made his way east, following the trails left by the spiders. As he did, the surrounding forest seemed to shift. The Tanglewood in general was eerily quiet and void of life, but as he pushed deeper into it, the trees themselves seemed to change. They grew crooked, and the bark started to show signs of damage. Parts of the wood grew black and cancerous, as if something had eaten at them, while other sections showed the claw marks of spider legs. It did not bode well for the terrain ahead.

The ground ahead turned uphill, and Clay cautiously crept up the incline. Despite pausing occasionally to deal with an overambitious spiderling, he saw no real signs of danger. He would have expected to see more and more spiders the closer he got to the center; had they really sent so many of their numbers out to fight him? It seemed strange.

When he reached the top of the hill, Clay paused to take a moment to recover. He looked around the woods again, still wary about the apparent lack of enemies. Where were the mature spiders hiding?

He peered ahead and found that the trees and undergrowth were thick enough to prevent him from seeing much of anything. Clay grunted in frustration and then looked at one of the larger trees nearby. It was a tall oak, with branches that stretched high above the others. His eyes narrowed for a moment, and then he started to climb.

A short time later, Clay was finally up above the rest of the canopy. He looked out over the Tanglewood, which spread out around him in all directions. When he looked back toward home, he thought he could see the break in the woods where his own farmhouse stood, and the living Smallgroves beyond that.

Then he turned his attention to the east, and his breath caught in his throat.

The trees of the Tanglewood spread out through a valley surrounded by other, lower hills. He saw no birds flying above them, or beasts moving under them.

All he saw were the spiders.

It was subtle at first. There were occasional trees that seemed dead, stripped of leaves despite the warmth of summer. Streamers of spiderweb hung from the bare branches, moving slightly in the breeze. Other, taller trees seemed less damaged, but they also seemed thicker, as if they were covered in strange growths. When he looked closer, he thought he could see those things moving, and he shuddered as he pictured a gathered pack of troll spiders, brooding beneath the sheltering branches.

Deeper into the valley, however, things grew worse. Far worse. The trees grew more and more dead, their branches liberally covered in spiderwebs. The tallest trees were just as affected, and their upper branches seemed to crawl and writhe with foul shapes. Clay shuddered as he pictured the monsters that would be waiting there and then forced himself to look past them.

At the center of the valley, surrounded by dead trees and monsters, was a single, solitary tower. The forest around it had completely died; nothing but bare ground covered in webbing remained. He thought he might be able to see buildings, ruins of some kind beneath the layers of webbing, but he couldn’t be sure.

The tower rose above the canopies of webs, clearly just as dilapidated as his own farmhouse had been. Its square roof had partially collapsed, and every window was either vacant or filled with yet more webbing. As he watched, a massive leg stretched out over one of the upper balconies, glistening in the sun. Something about the place seemed wrong in a way that he couldn’t quite define.

It was the Lair, he realized, the source of where the monsters of the Tanglewood originated. His heart clenched at the thought. How was he supposed to get close enough to destroy all of that? There had to be dozens, if not hundreds, of monsters down there. He’d be fighting on their territory, not luring them out to be killed. If the manual had been right about how elder mantraps worked, they would have disguised tunnels everywhere. Many openings would be buried beneath layers of webbing that were sure to ensnare him as well. He wasn’t even sure if the elder versions of the things were down there…

The wind rose for a moment, and the leaves of the Tanglewood moved and shifted beneath him. Clay stopped thinking for a moment as he looked down on the valley, and his horror grew by leaps and bounds. His occasional inability to track the troll spiders became completely justified as he saw dozens of them simply lift from their trees a moment later, their spindly forms gently floating away on sheets of webbing that let them glide over the treetops. They vanished when they landed, scuttling down into the trees to either find a new perch to fly from, or a prey to strike.

Clay glanced nervously around at his own tree. The ones that had drifted down into the Tanglewood nearest his home had probably even used this very tree to glide down at him. How could he track a monster that could fly?

Then the wind strengthened, and his horror only grew. Down around the tower, and on the tallest trees in the middle of the dead lands, true monsters drifted. They were gigantic things, floating upward on webs that seemed to bulge and strain under their weight. Each one's body alone seemed as big as a horse; their legs stretched quite a bit further than that. As he watched, some of them abruptly cut the cords binding them to their airborne webs, plunging to strike at something below the leaves. He thought he could hear screams as some spiders beneath met their end.

He pulled back slightly, feeling a sudden chill. Clay had known that pushing deeper into the Tanglewood was going to be dangerous; it would have been foolish to expect anything else. Seeing the reality of what lay ahead of him was an entirely different thing, however. His tracking skill would help him find burrows and avoid minor ambushes, but how would he track a monster that struck from the sky? Concealing himself as he approached might help him ambush a mantrap or disguise a trap, but how would he do that in a place literally covered in webs? Every idea he considered led to a monster descending on him, or exploding out of the ground to take him just as easily as he had taken their lesser brethren.

Clay shook himself. He’d known the forest was dangerous when he started, and he had seen terrible dangers before. He couldn’t allow himself to be shaken from his purpose now. Or did he want Pellsglade to look the same as this forgotten place? The buildings of the village would be just as hidden by that canopy of webs; a vision of the shrine and the Choosing Stone wrapped by those fibers made him shiver.

His determination renewed, Clay turned his attention back to the closer areas to him, the ones where the webbed trees and troll spider launching points were fewer. If he couldn’t expect to strike at the elders yet, then at the very least he could thin the ranks of the mature spiders. The more of them he killed, the easier the path to the Lair would be. It might even help him think of how to kill off the larger monsters as well once he grew used to the mature spiders’ tricks and traps. Then, once he had killed enough of them to provide him with experience, he could forge ahead.

Clinging to that fragile hope, Clay watched the patterns of the troll spiders, noting where they were gliding and where their starting points were. He also tried to notice where each of the dead trees was located; they had to be the center of mature mantrap burrows. He tasked himself with bringing a bit of parchment next time; a map of the valley and where those threats could be found would prove useful in the future, he was sure.

Then, fixing at least a handful of those sites in his mind, he descended the tree and started on his way again. There was only so much daylight left, and he needed to be back home before dinner. That idle thought nearly made him laugh himself to tears as he descended the hill into the valley of monsters, hunting them in their homes.