Common Clay

It seemed like forever before he reached the first of the mantrap burrows.

He saw the first burrow entrance well before the webbed tree came into sight. It was well concealed, hidden above a small pile of rocks in a slight rise above the rest of the ground. Clay almost smirked when he saw it.

Then he sternly reminded himself of what the manual had said. These were not spiderlings he was dealing with. If the adult versions had better speed, armor, and strength, he would need to anticipate more cleverness in their traps as well.

Clay went to one knee to study the ground, and almost immediately felt a burst of gratitude for his caution. Layered in front of the burrow entrance, hidden just below the mass of dead leaves and twigs, there was a web. It was spread across a good part of the ground, nearly invisible threads stitched across the dirt in some pattern his eyes refused to follow completely. He traced its source back to the entrance of the burrow, and he felt a sudden hint of realization. If he had stepped onto the web, the mantrap could have sensed him that much easier. More than that, if the web was sticky at all, it could yank his feet out from under him even as it leaped in for the kill.

Examining the ground cautiously, he tried to make his way around the web. Coming at the thing from behind would be the best option, just as it was for the smaller ones. All he had to do was…

His thoughts came to a slithering halt as he caught sight of another web. It had been spread all around another disguised burrow hole, this time centered directly above and behind the first one. If he had attacked the mantrap the same way, he would have the spiderlings, he would have been caught almost completely by surprise.

He eyed the second hole a bit more closely. Would the spider have attacked from the hole, or would the cover have simply collapsed and pulled him into a pit? The hole looked big enough, and if he remembered right, the manual had mentioned pitfalls. Clay momentarily pictured himself falling in up to his waist, while the mantrap spider waited for him underground. It was not the most comfortable thing to imagine.

Clay considered the problem for a few more moments. He knew he could just bypass the monster, and look for a new way to get further into the forest. The problem was, he knew these spiders could occasionally come out of their burrows and hunt on their own. If he ignored the thing, and it started to hunt him down while he was dealing with a problem further in…

No, it would be better to find out a way to kill it now, rather than worry about having it at his back.

As he thought over the problem, Clay picked out other burrows nearby. Some of them seemed to be pits; others were the usual traps, with the additional webs and size. They formed a rough circle, drawing his attention towards the center.

Carefully maneuvering past those spots, he moved a bit further in until the tree came into view.

Whatever the mantrap had done, it had killed the tree that had lived above its central burrow. Spiderweb was draped across the bare branches, though the blackened trunk remained standing somehow. He wondered if the spider had somehow managed to fend off decay simply by draining the life from anything that would have fed on the tree, and then shook his head.

As he studied the tree, it occurred to him that there was a contradiction here. The mantraps were subtle in their burrows; every instinct of theirs appeared to be oriented towards ambush and surprise. Armored as they were, they preferred disguise, misdirection, and a single definitive strike rather than an upfront confrontation.

Why would its home be so obvious then? Was it depending on enemies being so distracted by the webs that they stepped in front of another trap?

Clay looked around, seeing all the different traps that surrounded him. It all belonged to a single mantrap, right? How could they make sure they were at the right entrance when a victim approached? Could they sense the footsteps from that far away? Were they counting on good fortune to see them to the right place at the right time?

He frowned, still thinking it through. The spiderlings he’d ambushed and killed had always been solitary, as had the adult spiders that he’d trapped and slain closer to home. Yet that didn’t mean they always worked on their own. In fact, he remembered some cases where the mantraps had worked together, especially to fight troll spiderlings that wanted a piece of the same kill.

What if the adult spiders worked together regularly? Even a monster would have to rest occasionally, and when they did, they could be vulnerable to predators. Not people, probably, but adventurers and troll spiders, certainly.

He looked over the webbed tree again, trying to see it as the mantraps would. They could count on other adults to trap prey, but if there was a central spot for them to rest, they might gather in one place. A place where they could lay out extra webs to detect possible intruders and predators that would descend on them from above. A troll spider wanting to kill a sleeping mantrap would find itself snared by the tree, to be killed at the leisure of their former prey. An alert spider could detect anything approaching on the ground and warn the others to surround and attack the victim.

How did the spiders talk, though? If one was all the way out at the edge of the field of traps, how would it communicate with the others? He’d never heard one speak, or make any noise aside from death scream-coughs. Yet they had to—

Clay saw the webs on the tree twitch slightly when there was no breeze to move it, and he went still.

If they had drawn webs throughout the tunnels of their burrows, they could tug on one as a signal to the others. The webs around the trap holes might not even have been snares; they might just link back to the webbed tree in the center, letting the monsters in the middle know that someone was treading on their domain. One tug, and the whole mantrap nest could be alerted and moving through the burrow’s tunnels, heading into position to attack.

Had they sensed him already? Were they just waiting for him to move closer to a trap he hadn’t seen? Clay looked around at the spots he had already noticed, feeling a creeping sense of dread as he recognized just how many holes there were. For all he knew, they could have already surrounded him. How long would they wait before they just attacked?

It was then that he noticed that none of the burrows were beneath a tree. They were all in wide-open spaces, where there was some distance between the roots. He smiled and started to stalk over toward one of the trees.

The mantraps stayed away from the rest of the trees so that a troll spider couldn’t trigger their trap and then strike them from above and behind. Clay didn’t think the mantraps could climb trees, either; perhaps their armor made them too heavy. That fact meant they would hate putting their traps where the troll spiders could use the terrain against them, which meant they would hate the idea of their traps being ruined by an intruder. If their camouflage failed, then a troll spider could see them from the air and attack them, especially if it was an elder.

He glanced upward, reminding himself to be cautious of that threat, and then focused back on his plan. With his back to the tree, he might be able to convince the nest to attack him head on. With his bonuses and a fresh set of weapons, Clay thought he’d be able to handle at least a few of them. Hopefully, an entire army of the things wasn’t waiting for him beneath the ground—but it would be better to find out now rather than later.

Clay waited until he was confident that there were only three trap holes in sight. If they came at him from behind, they’d have to go around the tree, which gave him more time. Now was as good a time as any.

He held his spear in one hand and then spun up his sling. A moment later, he let fly. The slingstone shot straight towards the closest trap door.

There was a frozen moment of surprise as the stone embedded itself in the disguised covering for the door. Then the entire forest floor seemed to come alive.

All three of the doors he could see abruptly flew open, and an adult mantrap spider flew out of each. Clay responded by lunging towards the closest one, his boar spear outstretched. The point caught the spider in the middle of its fanged maw; its cough-scream cut off with satisfying suddenness.

Clay pivoted, drawing his axe. He caught the spider to his right with a glancing hit that claimed two of its legs. The spider spun in midair, landing in the leaves on its back. As it thrashed, he heard another heavy body landing in the dirt behind him—the third spider landing as it tried to come around the twitching body of the first. He brought the axe down on the unprotected belly of the second spider even as he freed the spear with a twist and a yank.

{Mature Mantrap Spider slain!}

{Mature Mantrap Spider slain!}

Clay abandoned his axe and spun, bringing his spear around in a sweeping motion. It caught the third spider as it jumped at him. The blow snapped half its legs and knocked it flying into a bush to the left.

Which left a clear pass for the fourth spider to leap at him as it finished clearing the tree.

With a frantic yell, Clay jumped backwards. His feet caught on the twitching corpse of the second spider. He fell back, bringing the point of his spear up and into the belly of the spider. It thrashed, lashing out with its spiked limbs as it fought to reach him with its fangs. The crossguard on his spear kept it from forcing its way down to him, but he could look up and see the nauseating mandibles work at the air between them.

His muscles filling with power, he shouted as he levered the monster up and away from him, as if he was pitching a pile of hay back and over himself. It cough-squealed, a few of its limbs leaving painful scratches on his arms, and then hit on its back behind him.

The instant he felt the weight leave his spear, Clay twisted in the dirt like a snake. Both spiders were flailing about on their backs. He pushed himself up to his hands and knees, his boots scrambling underneath him as he started a sprint forward. As the spider ahead of him tried to right itself, still bleeding ichor from its belly, he brought the spear up and over his head. An overhead stab caught it in the belly again, and this time he wrenched it back and forth.

{Mature Mantrap Spider slain!}

A short distance away, the last spider had managed to flip itself right side up. The thing tried to leap at him, but with so many legs broken it barely got out of the bush. Clay yanked his spear free and put a spear thrust through one of its eyes. With a second thrust, he put the spear right through the back of its neck. There was a sickening crunch.

{Mature Mantrap Spider slain!}

{Insight increases by 1! Valor increases by 1!}

Clay leaned on the spear haft for a moment, breathing hard. The scratches on his arms stung, but he could feel [Determined] already working away at the wounds. He grimaced and pulled the spear free. Four mature mantrap spiders, at the cost of a handful of minutes. Even better, he had cleared at least one nest between him and the Lair.

All in all, it was a good start.

Clay left the corpses of the mantraps behind. He didn’t know if they would lure the elder monsters or not, but he had no intention of sticking around to find out.

He wanted to take a pass at one of the troll spider areas, but with bleeding wounds and a limited amount of time, he decided it would be a better idea to pull back and come back on the following day. Perhaps by then he’d be able to come up with a way to handle them, or to deal with the elder spiders.

On his way back, he noticed that a corpse from a mantrap spiderling he’d killed was still present. That fact gave him pause for a moment, and he examined the surrounding terrain closely. Were they leaving the bodies out now as bait for him?

There were no signs of spiders in the branches or traces of fresh burrows. No evidence that any of the monsters had been anywhere close to the spot. Wary, Clay skirted the area and continued forward.

He made it another few strides before he saw another body, this time of a dead troll spiderling. Once again, it lay completely undisturbed. Clay watched it for a minute and then continued on. Something was wrong.

By the time he’d found the fourth spiderling corpse, he realized what was happening.

He was winning.

They had learned not to come for the bodies, at least not in this part of the forest. He had killed the ones brave enough to do it. Any spiders left were either too cautious, or had learned to be more discreet. Only the younger ones, the spiderlings, would dare make their way to this part of the Tanglewood. To his territory.

It was hard not to whistle a jaunty tune the rest of the way back home. Even the mantrap spiderling that tried to latch onto his leg a few minutes later—earning itself a smashing hit from the spear—didn’t erase the smile. He was winning.

{Memory increases by 1!}

Clay slumped slightly, feeling a wave of relief. He’d spent the past hour trying to go over the pages that Olivia had left him, and his entire mind seemed to be full of fuzz now.

It was like the words of the [Chants] hated being remembered. Every phrase and syllable seemed to squirm and fight, trying to deny him the chance to hold onto it. Even with all the work he’d put into it, he still wasn’t able to remember anything from the [Chants] for more than a half hour. The single point of [Memory] he’d just gained was the only benefit he’d really gotten out of the whole thing.

He sighed and put his head on the table for a moment. Even with all the work he’d put in that day—from the farmwork, to the hunt, to the attack on the spider nest—he still wasn’t as tired as he should have been. Part of it was the benefits from [Determined] and [Laborer], another part was the fact that his increased [Stats] made the work far easier than it would have been otherwise. His scratches were even healing faster; it almost looked like the holes in his tunic were going to take longer to mend.

Unfortunately, none of that really helped with the work he was doing now. The number of [Chants] were just enough to make the effort non-repetitive, and he didn’t have a clear idea of what he was even trying to learn. Olivia hadn’t actually translated any of the ancient text for him; she’d just provided the pronunciation. What if he accidentally fired off a spell that burned down his house?

At least his stubborn lack of progress meant he wasn’t likely to have that problem.

With a sigh, he pushed the parchment to the far side of the table, and then picked up the scrap he had been using to sketch out a rough map of the valley. He was using a bit of charcoal for the work; he’d likely have to rub out what he had and correct it as things changed. The more times he went to look, the better an idea he would have of what the path to the Lair looked like.

He studied the rough sketch he’d made, tracing his fingers across where he’d marked the location of the tower in the center. What had the place been, before the spiders had taken it? Could a Lair form anywhere, or were there conditions that would lead to the monsters arriving? Maybe he could ask Olivia the next time she visited.

With another heavy sigh, he turned back to the [Chants]. He’d tried at least eighteen. Just twenty-five more to go.

Clay reached the top of what he was now calling Scout’s Hill early that next afternoon.

The valley looked much the same as it had the day before. He peered out over the area, and then did his best to sketch out the details he’d missed on his map. Marks for each webbed tree and spider perch were soon scattered all over the map. They gathered in even larger groups as they grew closer to the tower, which he was careful to mark clearly.

Even as he finished with it, something made him look up at the other hills that surrounded the valley. When he did, Clay noticed webbed trees and spider perches on them as well. How had he missed them before? Was the Lair actually in the valley, or did the corruption extend beyond this part of the Tanglewood? He guessed there was only one way to find out.

He made for the nearest spider perch he had seen.

Attacking the troll spiders was going to be a little more complicated than the mantrap spiders. While the mantrap nest had been tricky, he’d still been able to choose when the fight started. The troll spiders had much better eyesight, and a disturbing tendency to roam; he couldn’t be sure that they would stay in their tree and wait for him.

Still, he wasn’t about to give up the chance to put an end to more monsters today. His scratches were already healed, and he’d spent a good part of the morning stitching his clothes. Hopefully, these monsters wouldn’t leave behind any more damage than the mantraps had.

Approaching the tree was a little risky. Unlike the webbed tree, the perch was located on a small rise, and the tree itself was much taller than the rest of the surrounding vegetation. The top of the tree was half-concealed by the leaves of its neighbors, which was both good and bad. Clay welcomed the chance to slip closer unnoticed, but it would make it harder to see if the spiders were coming for him.

Fortunately, it appeared that they hadn’t noticed him yet. He could see four of them, hanging like terrible fruit from the uppermost branches. They clung to the tree with two limbs, while their spinners and rear limbs were busy weaving the curious sheets that they apparently used to glide. There was a brief gust of wind; the spiders rocked back and forth, momentarily tense, and then resumed their work.

Clay had held his breath, wondering if they would float away with the wind. When they stayed, he started breathing again. He ducked back behind a tree trunk, his mind filling with ideas now that he’d seen the perch up close.

Obviously, running in close so the spiders could drop right on his head wasn’t a brilliant plan. The troll spiders didn’t seem to be worried about an attack at all, actually; their main foes, the mantraps, probably couldn’t reach them hanging up there. It was probably another reason that they didn’t mind having the other trees so close and unpruned; more branches just gave the spiders more space to sneak up on their prey and pounce on them.

Paranoia made Clay glance up. The current lack of fanged maw and spindly limbs reassured him for a bit.

Out in the wild, he’d been able to use the trees to drop on them from above, where they hadn’t been expecting it. That tactic wasn’t a possibility here; not when the perch towered over the surrounding area. Fortunately, he hadn’t just spent the morning plowing, hunting, and eating. Nor had he wasted the chance a handful of spiderlings had given him on the way in. To that end, he set aside his boar spear and took up a small bag he’d carried this far.

Moving quietly, Clay climbed the tree he was hiding behind. He made sure not to slip as he found hand and footholds in the bark. Before long, he was standing securely on a thick tree branch, one that gave him a relatively clear view of the spiders and their perch. Once he was there, he carefully began removing the hand-whittled javelins from the bag. There were six of them, and he made a special effort to stay away from the dark liquid that stained the tips.

Taking up three of the javelins, he tied the bag back onto his back. Then he leaned out, hefting the first javelin and trying to judge the angle and the distance.

Then he hurled the first javelin at the closest troll spider as hard as he could.

He missed. The javelin sped by the thing and out into the forest, vanishing over the treetops. Clay bit back a curse, grabbed the second javelin, and threw it before the spiders could respond. This one struck true, burying itself in the monster’s belly as it swiveled to stare at where the first javelin had gone.

The spider screamed, that same ear-searing noise that drilled down into his mind. Clay ignored it and lined up another javelin on a second spider. He hit it squarely, burying the projectile just behind its right forelimb. Its scream joined the first spider, and he ducked back behind the tree to fish out a fourth javelin.

As he did, the spiders began to move. All four of them swung out from the perch, dropping into the canopy of the rest of the branches. They skittered forward, their long limbs finding easy purchase on the swaying branches of the surrounding trees. Clay chucked the last javelin, scoring a passing hit on another spider, and then dropped from the branch. He hit the dirt, staggering a little, and then grabbed his boar spear.

He turned and backed away from the tree he’d just left, hearing the three spiders he’d hit scream at him from above the treetops. The branches overhead shook and rustled as they moved. Clay figured he had only a few more moments before they were on him. Hoping that his plan hadn’t completely failed, he searched the treetops for the spider he hadn’t hit with a javelin, and braced himself for the attack.

A heartbeat later, he heard a spider come crashing down through the branches. One of the screams faded and became a choking warble. Clay grinned and took another step back. Maybe he just needed to give them a little more time.

A moment later, his hopes were rewarded as the second spider came crashing through the leaves and smashed into the forest floor alongside its friend. Clay ignored the two thrashing spiders and looked up just as the untouched monster swung down through the branches towards him, its limbs already extended and ready to engulf him in a net of webbing.

He hurled the boar spear immediately, hitting it at point blank range. The spear tore it from the treetops, catapulting it backwards and away from him. It didn’t even have time to scream before death took it, and its corpse was left twitching in the branches.

{Mature Troll Spider slain!}

Clay’s smile abruptly vanished when he realized that the last troll spider was still coming at him. It sat directly over him, its fangs glistening and its net already prepared for him. Time seemed to slow down as he watched the thing gather its back legs behind it, preparing to leap.

Then one of its limbs missed a branch. It scrabbled to regain its hold, but another limb slipped from where it had latched on. Clay backed away slowly, trying to give his plan the time it needed to run its course. His hand dropped to the axe at his hip. He doubted he was going to get the chance to use it, but it would be better than nothing.

The troll spider’s eyes grew unfocused, and its limbs were refusing to coordinate effectively. His heart beat faster as it skittered back and forth in confusion, with more and more of its legs beginning to jerk erratically.

Then it abruptly lurched forward and fell out of the tree. It landed with a crunch at Clay’s feet, its limbs tangling and snapping as it tried to roll. Behind him, one of the other spiders gave a wet coughing noise and went still.

{Mature Troll Spider slain!}

Grimacing, Clay stepped forward. He dodged a little to one side as an erratic limb flailed at him and then chopped it off in a single swing. The spider tried to scream, and he buried the axe in its head twice. It fell silent just as its last companion breathed its last.

{Mature Troll Spider slain!}

{Mature Troll Spider slain!}

{Insight increases by 1!}

Clay glanced up at his boar spear, still lodged in the spider that hung from the branches. He sighed. At least he had been right about the fact that the troll spiders were vulnerable to mantrap venom. Tipping the javelins in the liquid had not been easy, but it had been worth it. Arrows would make it that much easier, but for an opening salvo, the handmade poison javelins would do rather well. Perhaps they’d even work against the even larger versions.

Another batch of monsters was dead, and another barrier cleared. Perhaps he’d find a way to reach the Lair soon, at this rate.

In the distance, he heard something scream. He paused and then climbed to recover his spear. Maybe some arrows would be a good idea.

“So? How have the [Chants] been going? Have you been able to get any of them to work?”

Olivia’s enthusiasm was at the edge of breaking through her impassive mask. She had welcomed him to the shrine as she always had, and then ushered him back to the library with almost indecent eagerness. Now she was staring at him in borderline impatience.

“No, I haven’t gotten any of them to work yet.” He held up his hands in defense. “My [Memory] is increasing though. Maybe I just need a bit higher level in that, and then they’ll start working.”

She frowned. “I suppose.”

Clay raised an eyebrow at her as she rummaged through her papers. “Why is this so important to you? I appreciate the help, but…”

The novice glanced at him and then looked back to her work. “Very few people gain a [Class] other than [Commoner]. The number is startlingly low; barely more than one in fifty.”

Clay nodded slowly. “Yeah, I know.”

“There is the possibility that I will receive a [Class] similar to [Calculator] or [Alchemist]. [Oracle] or [Mystic] are other prospects, given my nature and tendencies.” She paused. “All the same, the overwhelming likelihood is that I will be a [Commoner] when I go through my Choosing. If that is the case, then my life will be constrained to follow the same path I always have. My course will be only what is expected. I’ll have the chance to peruse the books and stories of others while I grow old and frail inside of this shrine, or another just like it.”

Olivia looked up, and burning determination filled her green eyes. “I want to know magic, Clay. I want to know what it can do, and I want to know how it feels to use it. If I’m a [Commoner]…”

“Then the only magic you have is going to be [Chants], and only the ones that I can use.” He nodded slowly. Then he grinned. “I get it. So I’m your experiment then?”

Her face turned a bit red, and she bent a little lower over the parchment. “I prefer to think of you as a partner. The [Chants] would be useful to you as well, would they not?”

“That’s true.” Clay patted her on the shoulder. “Though they would probably be more useful if I knew what they were supposed to do. I’m not going to end up blasting lightning across the room on accident, am I?”

Her blush deepened a little. She glanced at him briefly. “I apologize. I don’t know exactly what each of them does, but I can tell you the ones I do know.”

Clay smiled. “Thanks. I would appreciate it.” He handed over the sheaf of parchment, which she took from him quietly.

“This one is called the Spontaneous Spark. They used it for lighting campfires. This one… the Heart’s Light. It provides a source of light that doesn’t give off heat…”

“You want what?” Carla, the old fletcher in Pellsglade, stared at him in surprise. Her gnarled hands had been fiddling with an arrow, but now she ignored it to study him.

“If it helps, I want some plain old broadhead arrows too.” Clay smiled.

Carla shook her head. “Now I’m seeing what Adam was talking about. You really are a bug under his skin, making such strange requests, you know that?”

“I don’t mean to be such a bother. Just looking for some help is all.”

The fletcher shrugged. “I don’t mind nearly as much as that old coin grabber.” She cackled and tossed the arrow aside. “He’s gotten way too used to knowing everything and everyone well enough to predict every last detail. It gets on the nerves, at times. Throwing him off is a gift to the rest of us, gods know.”

Then she settled back. “Still, you have my curiosity. Most people want arrows that have heads of some kind attached, after all. What are you planning on using them for?”

“Just a bit of target practice.” He smiled.

“That might be better if you had arrows that wouldn’t break on impact.” She rubbed her chin a little, her eyes calculating. “It can’t be for hunting. You’d be picking the wood fragments out of your teeth while you eat.”

Clay sighed. “Trust me, I’m not planning on eating what I shoot with these.” He shook his head. “There’s just been some vermin around the house. They’re too quick for the sling, but I don’t want to waste a broadhead on it. That’s all.”

“Ah, rat hunting. I see.” There was some skepticism in the fletcher’s eyes, but she shrugged it away. “I can give you six for a copper. Broadheads cost double that.”