Chapter 143 - Stonebark Forest (Patreon)

Sally was magnificent. Hump could hardly take his eyes off the stonetusk. He’d dismounted Prancer after the horse reared at their attempted approach and led him forward on foot instead. Sally, on the other hand, was completely calm. She stood there contently as nervous children clung to her legs and the other villagers crowded around her. As he neared, the best description Hump could think of was a giant, scaly goat. She even had the cloven hooves, her feet and ankles coated in an even thicker layer of scales than the rest of her.

Celaine handed him the reigns of her horse and went on ahead.

“She’s beautiful,” she said, approaching the creature without concern.

“That she is,” Harlow said from her back. “No need to be so cautious. She’s gentle as a lamb, she is. Just let her have a whiff of you. They’ve got incredible noses, they do.”

Celaine held out her hand, and the stonetusk huffed enthusiastically. After a few seconds, she nudged her head to the side and allowed Celaine to stroke her cheek.

Celaine smiled widely. “Are there others like her here?”

Harlow laughed. “No. Absolutely not. Only place you’ll find more is in the forest, but she’s small compared to them. She was very weak when I found her. A bad birth I think, and her mother left her, or died somewhere, gods forbid. Either way, my best guess is it stunted her growth.”

Marcela’s group approached. The shieldbearer, Matthias, looked the creature over with a scrunched nose. “Are you sure it won’t bite?”

“Oh, she bites.” Harlow laughed. “Only if you’re an arse though.”

“Harlow, please, a little decorum is owed to such prestigious guests.” A priestess stepped out from the crowd. She was a woman in her fifties, with greying hair and a sigil on her robes that Hump didn’t recognise. “Greetings adventurers. I am Joan, Priestess of Isterra. When we were informed help would be arriving, I never imagined so many Chosen would grace us.” She gave a deep bow. “The gods have truly blessed our small village.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Priestess,” Marcela said from atop her horse, the well-trained stallion controlled even in the presence of the stonetusk. “I am Marcela Daston.”

She introduced them all, the priestess’ eyes seeming to widen with every name. Hump could relate. A few months ago, even to his usually cynical self, if two and a half parties of Chosen had shown up in front of him, he’d be shocked too. Funny how quick things change.

“Lady Daston, goodness, I wasn’t prepared for such a visit,” Priestess Joan said. “Please, allow me to escort you somewhere private. Harlow, Gertred, please, help our guests.”

“I’m afraid I must pass on the offer,” Marcela said. “Our parties must continue on to Stonepath where Eve and her party are stationed. Allow me to leave you in the very capable hands of Wizard Humphrey and his companions, for we must still complete the trip before the night’s end.”

“Of course, my apologies. Please do not let me keep you.”

Marcela smiled. “It was very good to meet you, Joan. My party and I will be patrolling the forest, so I’m sure we will properly meet soon enough.”

They watched the two parties of Chosen go, leaving a slightly disappointed priestess behind. Hump got it. He was a wizard, and they were all a little younger—it would be easy to think Tailsend had drawn the short straw.

“Priestess Joan, is there somewhere we can keep our horses and our gear?” Hump asked in his most authoritative voice. “After that, I would appreciate a private word. I’d like to know the status of the village and how we can best help.”

“Yes of course,” she said. “Harlow, would you help them get set up in the Hester’s? Once you are all ready, we shall speak more in the chapel.”

“Sure thing.” He nodded his head to the side, directing them toward the village as Sally turned. “Come on, I’ll show you around Tailsend, home of the best stoneale you’ll ever find.”

“Not the stoneale, Harlow.” Joan said, head falling into her palm.

Harlow laughed from his seat on Sally’s back, the crowd parting as she walked. Hump exchanged a few greetings, but it was the others they were most interested in, gawking at the Chosen with wide eyes. Celaine may not have been of the Pantheon, but none here would know.

The village was quite large, row upon row of houses built along three winding, narrow paths. They were of a strange mix of wood and stone, perhaps unique across the entire world. The walls were formed of grey lumber that was cold and hard as stone to the touch, yet showed the rings and imperfections of wood, while the rooftops were made from flattened sheets of petrified bark. It was a serene, fairy tale village, and Hump struggled to take it in a little with the stomping beast walking alongside him. Harlow explained that there were many farms and hamlets out beyond the village, but for the most part they lived off the forest. Foraging, hunting, and manufacturing goods that only an earth essence domain could produce.

Hester’s inn was near the village centre. He came to meet them outside, showing them to the stables around back before leading them inside.

“I’ve made your rooms for you,” he said, his voice as frail as he looked. “Please, if you need anything, you only need ask.”

“My thanks, Hester,” Bud said, looking around the tavern on the ground floor.

“You have a lovely inn,” Emilia said, running a hand along the doorway as they entered.

The man smiled. “You are too kind, my lady.”

Their rooms were simple, but they each had one to themselves. They set aside their things and freshened up before heading across a small marketplace to where the chapel was. It was a grand old building that appeared to be made of real stone unlike the rest of the village, the belltower the highest point in Tailsend. Joan was waiting for them inside.

She and Harlow spent some time explaining the situation in the village. Many of their people had already fled to Sheercliff City hoping to escape the threat of the dungeon, but most had stayed behind to defend their homes.

“We rely on the forest for everything,” Joan said. “There are a few farms out there, but far from enough to sustain those of us living here. It’s the forest we cultivate, and right now, the dungeon has taken that from us.”

“How much longer will your supplies last?” Dylan asked.

Joan looked to Harlow who shrugged.

“A couple of weeks,” he said. “Maybe a bit longer if we have a few successful hunts. Those supplies you brought will help, but it’s far from enough.”

“That’s sounds simple enough,” Bud said. “We can escort you through the forest. Perhaps supplies will still be lacking, but it will at least extend your stock a little and provide time for the expedition to destroy the dungeon.”

Joan let out a relieved breath. “I had hoped that would be possible. We’re only in the early months of winter. It’s not just about surviving a few weeks—we also must live through the months that follow.”

“The forest…” Harlow hesitated. “The forest is not what it used to be. We’ve tried to go out in groups before, but it was becoming more and more dangerous. After one of our foresters lost their leg to an attack, most of them refused to go.”

“Monsters?” Hump asked.

“No,” Harlow said. “Or at least, they weren’t before. The dungeon has changed them. Creatures that wouldn’t have harmed a person before are now hungry for flesh. It’s creepy. It’ll be hard to work up much enthusiasm for the job.”

“Well, that’s what we have Chosen for,” Hump said, gripping Bud and Dylan’s shoulders. “They’re not just pretty faces. We’ll keep you safe.”

It was a fairly simple solution, and at least it meant they could be active. That was enough for Hump to like the plan. Once they’d had some time to patrol the forest, perhaps they’d better understand how they could help the village.

***

Hump stared up at the canopy. It was familiar yet so unlike the forests he was used to, as if they’d been chiselled out of stone by Osidium himself. The trees were as gnarled and textured as any normal tree. Leaves were formed of veil thin stone, so perfectly formed that Hump could see the veins within. The undergrowth was full of spiked shrubs, ferns, and tufts of needle-sharp grass. They shattered like clay as Sally cleared a path along the trail. In her wake, there was little to do but swipe aside anything that remained. Stone speckled the ground, protruding from thick green moss like growths.

If not for the chaotic essence of the dungeon in the air, Hump might have liked it. As it was, he felt chills down his spine. With every step into the forest, the dungeon’s presence grew stronger. A tarnished, corrupted power that just felt wrong.

They made a lot of noise as they walked. Harlow had convinced thirty-odd men and women to come with them. A stream gurgled in the distance, and there was a constant tapping sound echoing throughout the forest that Harlow explained as stonepeckers—the same birds Hump saw as they arrived.

Harlow pointed off to the side of the trail. “Boulder boar dung. Angry little beasties they are—about the size of your average pig, but twice as heavy and twice again as mean.”

“Don’t get smashed by the angry boars,” Hump said. “Note taken.”

Harlow snorted. “A good mindset to keep out here. Takes a tough kind of creature to survive Stonebark Forest; best you avoid getting smashed by all of it.”

“I assure you, we are tougher than we look,” Emilia said, a smile splitting her lips.

“Maybe so,” he said. “Though there’s not much arguing to do with a ton of stone-hard muscle."

Harlow’s pet bird, Peck, swooped down through the trees and landed on his shoulder. It was a small species known locally as a nightflutter, easily recognisable by its black and red feathers. It circled them and flew back for treats every few minutes, supposedly scouting their surroundings, but how he’d trained a bird to do that Hump didn’t know. He knew of druids and a few wizards with the power to communicate with animals, but Harlow didn’t strike him as one. Though, perhaps he used his powers instinctually.

Whatever the case, Hump wasn’t sure about trusting their safety to a bird. They were all on watch, and all on edge. The shadows of the forest providing the perfect hunting ground for whatever monsters lurked. Fortunately, they had a dragon-blooded huntress with them, Celaine’s eyes unaffected by the dim light of the forest. She led the way while Dylan brought up the rear. Hump, Bud, and Emilia stuck close to Sally and the foresters, ready to defend them the moment an attack came.

They’d walked less than half an hour when they came upon a section of managed forest. Miles upon miles of young trees spread out before them. The ground was mostly cleared of wild plants, though some shrubs now grew after the foresters’ absence.

Harlow hopped from Sally’s back and slapped the stonetusk’s rear, ushering her forward. She leapt into the strange farm excitedly, rearing up and throwing her weight against one of the thicker trees. There was a loud crunch as she ripped the trunk up, sending it crashing to the ground. Then she tore into it with her tusks, shredding the bark to get to the fibrous insides and munched on it loudly.

Around them, the other villagers got to work. They set their hand carts up nearby and took chisels and hammers from their belts. Then they struck at the base of trees, toppling them like Sally hand.

“We’re after the inner part of the hornbeam tree,” Harlow explained. “Peel of the outer bark, and you’re left with the hornbeam heart. It’s a brilliant starch. Sally makes it look easy, but the older trees like that one she’s eating aren’t much good for human consumption. It’s the young trees we farm. They grow fastest deep in the forest.”

“You eat the trees?” Bud asked. “I thought they were made of stone.”

Harlow laughed. “The outer bark, sure. Tough as rocks, that is. Inside, not so much.” He gave an upward tilt of his head toward where Hump heard the stream. “Focus your attention that way. Your adventurer friends are a good few miles that way.”

“Got it,” Hump said. “Emilia and Bud, you both stay here with the villagers. I’ll set up some Alarm Traps. Dylan, Celaine, see if you can find somewhere suitable to keep watch.”

“I’ll come with you,” Emilia said to him. “Bud can keep watch here on his own, and you shouldn’t be walking through the forest alone, even if it’s only nearby.”

Hump looked at her and nodded. “Thanks.”

He’d noticed her energy as they’d been walking. Hump got the impression that if it was up to her, they’d be encountering monsters today. Perhaps a little reckless, though he put it down to excited inexperience more than anything. Her impression of real adventuring no doubt warped by the stories she’d heard.

They split up, each of them going about their jobs. Emilia stuck close to Hump as he wandered away from the villagers, setting up his cantrips between trees and along what looked like animal trails to him. It wasn’t perfect, but it was better than just standing by and watching. He worked to the constant sound of hammering, both from the foresters and from the stonepeckers. It was a strange type of noise to hear in the forest, but dulled by the trees, Hump didn’t mind it. After he’d set up ten of his traps, the two of them returned to find the hand carts already half full. The hornbeam hearts reminded him of the inner part of leeks, though much longer.

They were a couple of hours in when one of Hump’s traps sounded toward the stream. It chimed for a few seconds then when silent.

“What’s that?” Harlow asked.

“My alarm spell,” Hump said, looking toward the sound, staff ready. “Something must have triggered it. Come on.”

“Everyone group up,” Harlow shouted at the foresters. “Something’s out there.”

The group gathered up, readying their hammers on their shoulders. They waited, watching the trees, but they remained undisturbed. To the right, there was a cracking side, and Dylan emerged from within.

“Celaine’s found something,” he said. “Come with me.”

He led them back down a broken trail, where they found Celaine a little further along the path.

“There’s a dead boar,” Celaine said. “It’s near the stream. Looks like it died recently.”

Harlow’s face turned to worry. “Show me.”

She nodded, leading them through the trees until they reached a rocky hill. The stream was louder now, and Hump caught glimpses of it through the trees. His eyes were drawn to a patch of broken shrubs, where a corpse lay on its side, its back to them.

“That’s the boulder boar alright,” Harlow said. “Any idea—”

There was a bone shattering crunch, and the boar’s innards bulged where its stomach should be.

Behind him, Bud slipped on the mud and caught his weight on a hanging branch. The branch snapped, echoing through the forest, and the movement in the corpse stopped. They watched tensely, weapons ready.

The corpse shifted, and a small head popped out from behind it. It looked like a large squirrel, though instead of fur, its head was coated in red-stained bone.

“Get back!” Harlow whispered.

A second later, another head popped out. Then the entire boars body started to shift, until there were a dozen of the creatures staring at them. Still more clawed their way from its body, coated in blood, their claws formed a single, hard spike.

They hopped up on the corpse aggressively. Others circled around it, or stood on their hind legs and stared at them, baring their rabbit like teeth. Out in the open, more bone coated their chests and backs like armour. From within a helmet of bones, their eyes gleamed red.

“Hammertooths,” Harlow said.

Hump readied his staff. Bud and Emilia drew their swords. Dylan’s blessing radiated, encompassing them in the essence of nature, and Hump felt its strength.

Then the creatures were running at them. They leapt through the air, screeching in terrifying hunger.