Common Clay

{Flame Wretch slain! Soul increases by 5.}

Clay pulled the spear out of the dead wretch. The corpse shifted a little, but it remained as lifeless as he’d left it.

Once he’d seen Natalie back to the house, Clay had set out again for a hunt, though this time he had gone alone. The others hadn’t complained; they had already filled their day with standing watch, hunts of their own, and a bit of training when they could fit it in. He was already starting to plan out which [Chants] he would leave for them to study while he was out with their companions; with their [Memory] and other [Stats] already trained, they would probably be able to master at least a few of the basic ones quickly, and Natalie, with her higher [Memory] would be able to do even more.

At the same time, the [Chants] couldn’t do everything. If they were going to level up, he needed to find a much bigger threat for them to fight, and soon. Just like with the spiders, the Soul gained from each kill decreased by half after the fifth; it would vanish completely after the tenth, though the [Achievement] would be a nice consolation prize. That would leave him woefully short of his next level, with nearly eight hundred still to go. The rest of the team would be stuck twenty-five Soul away from their second level.

That fact was part of why he was out in the forest alone again. If he could find traces of the wretches’ larger friends, then he’d be able to guide the others to them. Even better, he’d be able to fight a few of them himself, before the others had to risk themselves. Maybe it would help reach third level before he had to find even harder versions of the wretches to fight.

The notes that Olivia had provided were rather thin on the details, as expected. It did have the names of the creatures he expected to find here now, the larger versions of the flame wretches. One had been given the sketch of a much larger, longer version of the wretch, vomiting a wave of flame that an adventurer was barely managing to ward away with an ice spell. Olivia’s translated advice had been…unpromising. Flame devils are sharper of claw and fang, and thicker of scale. Their eyes remain weak, as are their wide mouths. They burn the land before them. Their flame becomes impossible to extinguish, save by magic or luck. Those who burn may not be saved. Moreover, if they escape, their wounds become unmade unless mortal. Strike first, strike true, or suffer the consequences. Failing that, they may be lured into ambush.

He'd read a little further, just in case the even larger versions made a surprise appearance. There had been another picture, this time of a lizardlike creature bursting from the ground in a shower of molten fire. The unknown adventurer’s description had been just as poor as it had for the elder versions of the spiders in the Tanglewood. Flame horrors lurk beneath the ground. Step carefully. The window to strike will be brief. Seek where they sleep.

It was not the kind of advice that made Clay excited to track down the monsters in the mines themselves, but it was going to need to be done, eventually. At the same time, he hadn’t seen much of a sign of the larger beasts anywhere within the forest. He had found the signs of the smaller ones; the wretches were seemingly everywhere, and he was growing more and more familiar with the tracks their claws left, or the swishing marks their tails left in the snow. If anything, it was a little easier than tracking the spiders, though they didn’t seem to reuse the same ambush spots the way the mantraps used to.

The other difference that felt off to him was the apparent disinterest the wretches had in the corpses of their fellows. He’d already tracked back across several places where he and the others had killed a wretch. He’d seen no sign that the other wretches had been scavenging the corpses, and even less sign that one of the devils had been gobbling them up. Back in the Tanglewood, a spiderling corpse would have attracted attention almost immediately. What were the larger monsters eating if they weren’t grazing among their lesser counterparts? Surely they weren’t eating that many people from town.

Still, even with the light fading, he’d tracked down four more of the wretches. One more, and he’d find out what the name of the [Achievement] attached to them was called.

Eying the winter sunset overhead, he debated whether he should continue the hunt or call it a night. The danger of falling for an ambush would increase if he stayed, but he felt like getting so close to the [Achievement] and giving up would be incredibly frustrating.

After a brief struggle, Clay turned back toward Rodcliff. As satisfying as it would have been to finish things, the risk simply wasn’t worth it. He wasn’t just gambling with his own life this time; the entire team was counting on him, and the town was counting on all of them. Getting killed, or even just badly wounded, had the possibility of dooming hundreds. Better to be cautious than foolish.

Clay made for the town, half-hoping that he’d run across another wretch on the way. Instead, he found nothing but cold, wind, and snow, with the occasional slaughtered flame wretch to punctuate the scenery. Slightly disgruntled, he broke free of the forest and headed for home. At least the next day would bring more chances to hunt. The lizards weren’t going anywhere, after all.

A lightning bolt tore across the snow and drilled into the flame wretch. It writhed and fell still, flames guttering in its mouth, and a hole in its hide where Xavien’s [Charm] had struck it.

Clay tried not to feel a little jealous as the [Oracle] lowered his hand. He hadn’t had the chance to score his tenth kill quite yet, and the wait until that evening seemed to be interminable.

It hadn’t helped that finding that first wretch had seemed to take forever. The corpses that they’d left in the forest the night before were still undisturbed, and it had taken Clay pushing them even further into the forest to find another batch of them. Were the lizards just lazy? Or were they taking the corpses as a sign to avoid the area around the town? If that was the case, the baron should have been able to just keep them at bay with a small ring of dead lizards. It didn’t make sense.

Still, Xavien had done well. He only had one [Charm], but it was obvious he’d spent plenty of time training with it. The fact that it was instant was helpful, and it had the range to keep Xavien out of trouble—so far, at least.

They nodded to each other, and then started out again, searching for more signs of the wretches. Xavien seemed to feel no need to hear himself talk this morning. He seemed more contemplative as they walked, as if he was struggling a little with what they were doing. Clay wondered what could be bothering him now.

Eventually, however, the [Oracle] spoke up. “Sir Clay, are we doing this fast enough?”

“Better that we take a little more time if it keeps us all alive, Xavien.” Clay grimaced. Technically, he could make a beeline straight for the center of the Lair, but the last time he’d fought a Guardian he’d nearly died. Just because he was at level eight didn’t mean that he was invincible—and any Guardian would still be a rank ten threat, in addition to whatever other guards were present. “Besides, this is your chance to gain a level. You shouldn’t overlook the opportunity.”

“Yes, but we aren’t going to gain a real level without facing some of those flame devils the notes mentioned, correct? Why not head straight for them?”

Clay glanced back at the [Oracle]. Xavien wasn’t looking sullen or surly, but he did seem concerned. His eyes were searching the forest, but Clay didn’t know if he was actually seeing anything in front of him. “Because it is better to get a feel for what kind of threats we’re facing. Besides, we need to clear the monsters away from the town before we dive further in. Otherwise, the town might get attacked while we are gone, or the monsters might pull back and surround us.”

Xavien shook his head. “Are they really that smart? The creatures we’ve been facing haven’t seemed all that impressive.”

In Clay’s mind, he flashed back to the moment when the Guardian had sent the hunters after him the first time he’d gotten close to the Lair. Then he remembered the Guardians emerging from the tower after having isolated him and ambushed his friends. “Yes. They are. Don’t underestimate them. Part of the reason we are killing them this way is because they are so dangerous. We can’t afford to be overconfident.”

The [Oracle] nodded. He accidentally stepped on a stick and winced as it snapped audibly. Clay grimaced as the sound seemed to echo out through the trees. “I’m sorry, Sir Clay. It’s just… I talked to some members of the town yesterday, after I went out. Nearly a third of the people who lived here are missing, likely gone. I feel like we shouldn’t prolong their suffering if we can avoid it.”

Clay paused long enough to clap Xavien on the shoulder. “Your heart is in the right place, Sir Xavien, but you can’t let yourself get carried away. We’re doing what we can, as quickly as we can. We’re guarding the town, too, which means the monsters won’t get any more of them.”

“Unless the monsters come, and we are too weak.” Xavien looked away, guilt and unhappiness written on his face. “I am… questioning some of my previous decisions lately. When I refused to take a Vow, it was for reasons that I believed made sense. Yet at the same time, it meant that I couldn’t be here, or in another place like this, where people are suffering. Was it just my own selfishness? Am I responsible for something like this happening somewhere else, just because I was a fool?”

The questions made Clay pause. He turned to check the forest around them again; the last thing they needed was for a wretch to suddenly make an appearance. When he answered, he tried to sound reassuring. “There are many kinds of heroes, Sir Xavien, and no one right way to do things. You slowed down your ability to fight, true, but you’ve also given yourself other opportunities. There’s no reason to be ashamed of that.”

Xavien shook his head, his expression seeming a bit stubborn. “And now, Sir Clay? Now that I’ve seen people suffering, can I make the same choice? Why shouldn’t I take Vows now, if it means that this mission ends that much sooner?”

Clay grimaced. “Can you guarantee that your Vows won’t keep you from helping people in the future? Are you sure the additional levels would be worth it, then?”

The [Oracle] blinked. “How would that be possible?”

He thought for a moment. “Let’s say you make a Vow of silence. Not the best example, but it would probably give you a few levels, right?” Xavien nodded, and Clay continued, leading the way through the forest again. “Then maybe in the next battle you see something coming at one of your friends from behind. Can you shout a warning to them?”

There was a long pause as Xavien thought it over. Clay gave him a while to think before he continued. “The way I see it, the only thing you can do is try your best. If this is your best, then stick to it, and you’ll be fine. Nobody can predict the future.”

Xavien chuckled suddenly. He shook his head. “That’s… mostly true, I suppose. Though my [Class] does seem like it gives people hints, Sir Clay.”

“And with the hints you received, you made the best choice you could. Who am I to judge you based on that?” Clay gave him a grin and then paused. He looked ahead at the slope of a nearby hill. “I think I have the next one.”

“I see it.” Xavien nodded. He stepped forward, his eyes narrowed. Clay drew an arrow and set it on his bowstring. The [Oracle] hadn’t missed yet, but it was better to be careful just in case.

He watched as Xavien set himself and started to call up the power of his [Charm]. It was a fascinating difference compared to how a [Chant] worked. Xavien didn’t say anything; apparently voicing the [Charm] was something that people did when they weren’t familiar with the spell, but Xavien had been training with this [Charm] and only this [Charm] for months. All it took for him to call a spear of lightning into being was a bit of mental focus, a clear target, and a pair of pointed fingers. The [Oracle] didn’t even have to let go of his mace.

Clay watched, again subtly jealous, as the bolt of lightning streaked across the forest… and then his jaw dropped when it struck a wretch further up on the slope of the hill, a dozen long strides from the one he’d been looking at.

Shock froze him for a moment, and that was enough for the surviving wretch to throw itself into motion. It uncurled from its hiding place in a single burst of speed. The camouflage that concealed its form seemed to vanish immediately, shaken off like a dog spraying water everywhere. Fire glowed to life under its hide as both its eyes swiveled to fix on Xavien; snow burst into steam as the wretch scrambled across the woods towards them.

“Down! Shield!” Clay took one long step to the left and drew his arrow back to fire. As he did, the wretch opened its mouth and spat fire, a lumpen gob of burning pitch that arced through the air towards them. He loosed in that same moment, sending the shaft straight back at the beast. The thing seemed to see the arrow coming and started to dodge with a sudden sideways leap.

It couldn’t completely avoid the arrow, however. The shaft struck the thing a half-heartbeat later, drilling into the scales on its shoulder. Clay heard it hiss and he saw new flickering lights fill its mouth.

To the side, he heard Xavien shout as the flaming liquid struck his shield. The [Oracle] had moved fast enough to intercept it, but the material splashed across the tempered wooden surface of the shield. Pieces of it spattered into the snow around his feet, still burning even in the snow. Xavien shouted a second time and dove for a snow bank, likely hoping that the fire would be extinguished before it could burn his only defense to ash.

Clay started the [Chant] for the Vanishing Ember, mentally cursing himself for not having it prepared. He shot at the wretch a second time, only to have it dart to the side even faster this time. The arrow missed cleanly, hissing off into the forest.

Then he dropped the shortbow and picked up his spear. The blade of the weapon glimmered in the winter sun, and Clay set himself to face the thing’s charge. It darted in, apparently not worried by the two opponents facing it, or the metal spearpoint already seeking its heart.

He watched it come, his heart beating hard and his breath turning the air to fog in front of him. The creature’s skin had apparently reverted to its natural state as it ran, going from the mottled pattern that helped it to blend in with the surrounding area to a seared, black color, underlit by red lights beneath its scales. Its eyes had gone from a mild grey to a burning, fiery red. One of them was focused on him, while the other had swiveled to look in Xavien’s direction.

It charged straight for him, continuing to hiss in an enraged counterpoint to the guttering flames around them.

Then it stopped, opened its mouth wide, and spat again, sending fire hurtling straight at Clay’s face.

He dodged instinctively, moving faster than he ever had before. The glob of burning pitch very nearly brushed his hair as it went past; he thought he smelled a brief puff of smoke. Heat flashed past him, continuing out into the forest behind.

Instead of focusing on it, he lunged at the monster in front of him. It had started another charge, this time heading straight for Xavien. The [Oracle] was still distracted, trying to put out his burning shield in the snow; his head started to come up when the second burst of fire happened, but he was moving too slowly. On his own, the wretch would have been on him.

Clay slammed into it three strides short of Xavien. The wretch’s burning maw snapped shut as the spear pierced its hide. It twisted, trying to snap at the haft, but Clay simply lifted it from the ground and pitched it away from him, as if he was discarding a disappointing bale of hay. He saw it continue to twist and writhe in midair, right up until it slammed into a tree trunk.

The impact seemed to settle the matter. It slid down the rough bark, limp and coughing, even as bare branches and snow tumbled down around him.

A moment later, Clay received a notification that he had definitely earned.

{Burning Wretch slain! Soul increases by 5.}

{Achievement Unlocked! Lizardbane: 5% increase to all skills and damage against lizards. Bonus increases to 10% versus Flame Wretches.}

He nodded to himself and finished the [Chant] another heartbeat later. The flames burning on Xavien’s shield—and also the pool of fire now spreading behind them, at the foot of a tree—abruptly sputtered and went out. Xavien half-collapsed into the snow a moment later. The [Oracle] was pale, almost shaking from relief. His shield now had streaks of black across it, as if some monster made of soot had swept one filthy claw across it.

Clay walked over to help him up. He glanced around again as Xavien came back to his feet. “So it looks like these ones work together sometimes. The Undead did that, but the spiders didn’t help each other out until their Guardians made them.”

“Good to know.” Xavien shook himself and then sighed. “I can see what you mean about not underestimating them. Do you think there are more nearby?”

He spent a moment listening, stretching out with both his ears and his newfound ethereal senses. Neither gave him any sign of impending hunters. “No. At least, not near enough to come after us. Shall we call it a day?”

The [Oracle] nodded, and Clay started back towards their camp. As good as it had been to gain the [Achievement], it would have been much, much better to do it without risking Xavien’s life. Clearly, he’d have to be more careful for the rest of the day.

By the time Clay went out with Jack, it was nearing the end of a very long hunt.

Each time he’d gone out, they had found at least one pair of wretches that had nested together. He’d managed to avoid getting taken off guard again, the way he had with Xavien, but the close call had him on edge. What if the wretches kept grouping up? What would happen if he started to find them in threes or fours? By himself, he was confident in his ability to whittle them down, but doing it while also helping the Gallery get their kills was making things extremely complicated.

Still, it had to be done. Even if he killed his way through most of the enemies, there wasn’t likely to be enough Soul in them to help get much beyond level nine. He needed their help to destroy the Lair, and they needed the strength for whatever their next mission would be.

Jack was quiet, stepping easily through the snow and undergrowth. The [Knave] had been a consistent companion, and he seemed to be taking his job seriously. Even though he was restricted to close range combat, Clay wasn’t nearly as worried about him as he had been about Lawrence earlier in the day. Perhaps it was the fact that he carried a pair of Pell knives with their dangerously heavy blades. It might also have been about the simple confidence with which he moved. He might grumble a bit about being surrounded by too many trees, but he seemed comfortable with the need for constant vigilance.

A moment later, they found a wretch. This one was by itself, something that made Clay sigh with relief. At least it would be a simple start.

He signaled for Jack to sneak forward, and the [Knave] nodded. Jack vanished into the trees, moving quietly for such a big man, and Clay settled in to wait with an arrow on his bow. His eyes continued to scan the nearby trees and rocks, searching for another monster in hiding. Clay still hadn’t seen any signs by the time Jack struck.

The [Knave] moved with terrifying speed, for a simple level one adventurer. He struck the wretch so quickly that it barely had enough time to flinch before both knives had torn through its scaled skin. That quickly, it was over, and Jack was cleaning his blades on the carcass.

Clay moved over to the man, who was finishing up. He wondered, briefly, if the next kill would be that easy. He somehow doubted it.

“You know, you’ve never asked.”

He blinked. It was the first thing that the [Knave] had said since they entered the forest. Jack wasn’t looking at him, but his expression seemed idly curious. He finished his task, and then finally looked up at him, expectation plain on his face.

Clay shifted in place. “Asked about what?”

“Please.” Jack smiled, though there wasn’t much humor in the expression. “You know what I meant. Everyone asks eventually.”

Perplexed, Clay looked at the man. “No, really. About what?”

Jack’s expectant expression disappeared into a puzzled frown. “About who I killed. Because of my [Class].”

“Oh.” Clay fell silent for a moment. It was almost a requirement to be a murderer to be a [Knave], but Clay had simply assumed that there was an exception every so often. His own life was full of them so far, so he saw no reason not to expect them from others.

It sounded like he’d been wrong, however. Jack was talking like he’d actually killed someone. Not just killed, murdered, and likely tried to cover it up afterward. Had he been that wrong about trusting him?

Jack shook his head, as if trying to force his way past his own confusion. “Sorry, I guess I thought you were wondering about it. Figured it would be better to have it out there, rather than leaving it a secret.”

Clay shrugged uncomfortably. “If you don’t want to talk about it, we can always go over it later. If it’s bothering you, though…”

The [Knave] sheathed both his knives and stood there in uncharacteristic indecision. Then he sighed. “You’ve seen my sister, right? We grew up in the slums, kind of like Anne. Not as bad off in some ways. We always had enough food. At the same time…”

He tilted his head back to look into the sky. “There was a man. He broke into our house, looking for something. Maybe it was something my dad had before he died, or maybe something my mom left. Either way, he decided my sister knew where it was. He started to choke her…”

Jack looked back at Clay, his eyes clear and hard. “There was a knife on the counter. I grabbed it when his back was to me. I just wanted him to stop. After, my uncle helped drag the body down to the river.”

Clay nodded slowly. It still made his guts twist to think about it, but he pictured someone coming after his own sisters, with no other way to stop them… “Did the watch never investigate?”

“They had no reason to. They hardly ever came to the slums back then, anyway, at least not until King John tried changing things.” Jack shrugged and looked away. “Thought I could leave it behind me, at least until the Choosing happened. Then I got my [Class], and now…”

“Now there’s no way around it.” Clay nodded. “Well, it doesn’t change anything, right? You still want to make a difference. You want to be a hero.”

Jack snorted. “Yeah, I do.” He looked at his hands. “Still, I feel like I can never escape it. Not completely. Everyone’s going to see me, figure out my [Class], and then they’ll know.”

“Then you’ll just have to prove who you are no matter what they think.” Clay clapped him on the shoulder. “You’ve more than proved yourself out here so far. Just keep at it. We’ll destroy this Lair and prove it to everyone at the Academy. You’ll see.”

Jack gave him half a smile, and they continued onward. He seemed less troubled, even when a wretch nearly lit him on fire afterward. It was an odd way to mark progress, but Clay supposed it was better than nothing.