Book 3 - Chapter 35 (Patreon)

Zilly wasn't the only one in bad shape; most members of the caravan had been bitten at least once. Several people lay on the ground on blankets, mostly those with low levels and therefore low Vitality. The [Dancer] was one of the few who hadn't been touched, and she stepped nimbly between the rows of their makeshift triage, delivering poultices and anti-venom potions to those most affected.

Brin himself felt a burn and a slight fever from the snake bite he'd taken, but one of the [Merchants] with a high-level [First-Aid] had told him it would pass on its own without trouble. Apparently, that was a pretty common General Skill to take in their line of work.

He found Davi and Myra, and saw that the both of them had managed to avoid getting bitten as well. The snakes hadn't even drawn close to the [Bards], and Myra had wisely taken shelter near them.

Myra was nudging a dead snake with her foot. "Dead snakes don't count as thread. For my Skills. I kind of think they should, don't you?"

"Maybe if we tied some of them together?" offered Davi. "I feel bad for them, though. Hate to see this many dead snakes. Don't you think we should unbury the ones in that hole?"

"I'm pretty sure that's what Pio is arguing with Zerif about right now," said Myra.

That gave Brin an idea, and without ever even saying hello, he left Myra and Davi to go over by himself. He sat at the base of a tree, playing up that he was resting from the slight fever the venom had given him, and called on his magic.

Last night with Hogg he'd learned how to use Sound Amplification to send beams of sound in a directed, straight line. He'd only used it to project sound outward as a weapon, but there was no reason he couldn't use it to direct sound the other direction.

He spotted where Zerif and Pio were talking across the camp. This was the perfect opportunity. These two almost never had a conversation outside of their warded tents and wagons. He used Sound Amplification to direct their voices towards himself.

He also made a tunnel of silence, to make it so the directed sound would only go towards him and no one else would get wise to what he was doing. It was a complicated affair since he had to figure it out on his own, and he needed to use the Language, but luckily no one was close enough to hear what he was muttering.

"... a danger to this caravan," Zerif was saying.

"No danger. Without their leader they are normal snakes, entirely in my power," said Pio.

"Of course! Of course, sometimes I forget that you’re a [Beast Master], with power to persuade and direct the animals and other creatures,” said Zerif.

Pio folded his arms. “You mean to say something? An accusation? So say it then.”

Wait. Did Zerif suspect Pio was behind the monster attacks? It would make sense with that Class, but Brin honestly couldn’t see it. Pio didn’t seem like the deceptive type, and his anger at the time Davi had lured a Heath Worm to attack the caravan had been real.

Zerif patted Pio’s shoulder, who glowered at the touch. “No, nothing like that, my friend. You would never put this caravan in danger, would you? No, you wouldn’t. So why not? Go ahead and rescue your creatures if you wish. I trust you to–”

The tail end of that conversation was cut off as two women walked across his sound tunnel. An elderly [Camp Chef] was speaking to a [Wagoneer], “...doesn’t work on venom. That’s more for when animal bites carry disease.”

“I think we could still use hot water to wash the wounds, then. How long would it take, honestly,” argued the [Wagoneer].

“I don’t think Zerif–” and then they were out of his sound tunnel.

Something about that conversation itched at Brin. Something about that was important. He lurched to his feet, but suddenly felt a dizzy spell. He made a few uneasy steps, then collapsed to his hands and knees, panting. The feeling was like the slight uneasiness he’d felt ever since the fight had gotten over; the most likely explanation was that the venom was affecting him more than he’d thought at first.

That wasn’t real. [Filial Piety’s] Mental Resistance and [Know What’s Real] worked together to make it clear to him that this wasn’t actually coming from his body. This was a mental attack.

“Hogg,” he gasped.

The man appeared in seconds. “What is it?”

“Mental attack. Who’s watching me right now?”

All at once the dizziness faded. Not quite trusting it, Brin scooted into a sitting position, still sweating and out of breath.

“Oh, damn. Lots of people are watching me, but only because I rushed over here so fast. You should’ve said mental attack first, then I would’ve snuck over.”

“I couldn’t think straight. Because of, you know, the mental attack.”

“You sure you don’t need an anti-venom?”

“I’m fine,” said Brin.

After a minute or two sitting there to make sure, Brin found that he really was fine. “Alright. What’s the short list? Who are we thinking?”

“For what?”

“Don’t do that. You know. The bandits are taking orders from someone in the caravan, and now it’s starting to look like the monsters are, too. I can’t help but think this is about me. Somehow Arcaena’s people still know about me.”

“You shouldn’t assume everything is about you. It’s way more likely that Zerif got caught out about being a spy for Prinnash, and someone is trying to take care of him discreetly. But fine, short list. Number one is Zerif. He has a few mental Skills he can use on people under his command, which includes everyone in the caravan. Nothing powerful enough to explain what just happened to you, but he has connections and money. He could be using enchanted tools to do the things we’ve seen happen.”

“Zerif makes the most sense to me. I was eavesdropping on them when whatever it was hit me. He was indirectly accusing Pio of being behind the attacks, and I doubt he’d want someone overhearing that.”

Hogg shook his head. “That doesn’t feel right. He already has really good anti-eavesdropping Skills on his tent and wagon.”

“So who else could it be?” asked Brin.

“Jeffrey, obviously, would have to make the list, but I don’t suspect him. Pio is also rich enough to buy tools, and he could be directing the monsters. But why? I can’t think of a motive. Were you looking at Mumeli when you got dizzy?”

“Who?”

“The [Dancer].”

“No.”

“Then we can cross her off the list,” said Hogg. “Are you sure it was all mental? It wasn’t poison?”

“No, I’m sure,” said Brin.

“It still could’ve been triggered by food. Let’s keep Araunya on the list for now. She’s a [Camp Chef], and pretty high level at 46. I’m sure she’s pretty wealthy as well.”

“Wait. The [Camp Chef]. I was listening to her, kind of on accident, right when the dizzy spell hit,” said Brin.

“Then we’ll move her up the list.” Hogg grinned, then put on a serious face and pointed at Brin. “You do nothing for today. I’ll watch her, discreetly, but you don’t even look in her direction. If you want to do something, maybe try to pump Pio for clues. Despite everything, I still don’t really suspect him, so we’ll make it look like we do while we sneak up on Zerif and Araunya.”

“Got it.”

He didn’t get the opportunity to talk to Pio right away. Pio released all the snakes they’d buried; to Brin’s surprise the vast majority of them were still alive. Pio coaxed them out of the hole and then disappeared into the forest, no doubt to lead them far, far away from the rest of the caravan. Despite how most people in Frenaria seemed to think snakes were cute, he didn’t think anyone in the caravan wanted to see another one anytime soon.

So Brin helped organize and pack up the camp. The sun was only now starting to peek up over the horizon and normally they didn’t start moving until an hour or so afterwards, but since everyone was up already Zerif decided to make an early start. Brin was given a cold breakfast of bread and two boiled eggs, and then they began their march.

Those who were too tired, wounded, or poisoned to walk took the luggage wagon, which meant that their prisoners had to walk. Six caravan guards with spears and grim expressions surrounded the youths, all of them higher level than their charges.

Zilly probably should’ve been on the wagon with the wounded, but after they’d bandaged her wounds and administered an anti-venom, she’d insisted on staying behind. She was determined to walk to Oud’s Bog on her own or die trying.

Soon after they started moving, Sion wandered over to Brin.

“Ah, there you are. How did you fare with the snakes? I haven’t been traveling long, but I’ve heard stories from my father and uncle and I’ve never even heard of the like.”

It occurred to Brin that if they were suspecting anyone with a lot of money, they needed to suspect the [Merchants]. Especially Sion, who was very high level for his age, and who Brin suspected was much richer and well-connected than he wanted to let on.

“It was terrifying,” Brin admitted.

Sion barked a laugh. “Thank you. Yes, it was horrible.”

 “Honestly? I don’t even like snakes. Marksi is, like, the one exception, and he has legs now. Seeing all of those snakes together will show up in my nightmares, I’m sure, and let me tell you I already have really messed up nightmares.”

Sion shuddered. “Come. Let us speak of happier things. Have I told you of my home? Much better than here. The air is so much easier to breathe...”

At first, Brin had thought that Sion had come to pump him for information or secrets about the attack, but as the conversation went on, it became clear that he just wanted to talk to someone to get his mind off of things. He spoke of his home in Prinnash, which apparently wasn’t a secret at all, speaking warmly about the gently flowing hills, the wide fields, and the lack of humidity that Frenaria had that made you feel like you were breathing through a wet, stinky sock.

Brin talked about life in Hammon’s Bog, and while he evaded the subject of where he actually grew up, Sion never pressed him on it.

It was a nice morning, and Brin found that he’d also needed to talk to someone. About normal things, not the doom and foreboding that seemed to be a constant presence in his life.

As they walked the landscape started to clear a bit, with fewer trees and more prairie. They found their first farmstead an hour in. The forest opened up completely into sixty acres of fat, golden grain. It had that lush, dry smell that told him it was nearly ready to harvest, and took him back to another world, with the fields of grain he’d driven past while working in another city.

After that, they passed a few more smaller farms, some with different crops, one with the disgusting purple vines of mato, and a few with only animals. Now when they passed prairies, they would always be full of grazing cows or sheep.

The road improved, bit by bit. Fewer potholes, fewer wagon-tracks. Stones began to crop up here and there, old paving stones from a brick road that had worn away.

The signs of civilization were met with visceral relief from his fellow caravaneers. He saw fists unclench, shoulders relax, as it began to dawn on everyone that there wouldn’t be any more attacks on this trip. They’d made it.

The pace also increased, now that the roads were better, and for the first time on this trip, Brin started to feel a burning in his legs.

It wasn’t until they were half-way up it, that Brin realized that his legs were burning because they were moving up a hill. The rise had been so gradual and the slope was so long that he hadn’t realized at first, but they were moving up a long, seven-mile-long hill.

Sion wandered off to go find a wagon to sit in, and Brin didn’t blame him. He kept walking, grateful to have some healthy exercise that didn’t involve fighting for his life.

Was there something he could do to make this harder, and maybe get a point in [Athleticism]? He was near twenty, and when he’d gotten 20 [Meditation] he’d gotten an Achievement and the Skill had evolved. Of course, both [Hide Status] and [Inspect] were far above 20, and nothing had happened with those. He wondered what the difference was.

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn’t even hear Pio arrive until the man said, “And this is the boring part. The farmers hunt all the interesting animals. Nothing to see. Nothing to do. Just walk.”

“I was just thinking about how nice it is to know we aren’t going to get attacked again,” said Brin.

Pio grunted in agreement. They walked in silence for a bit until Pio scratched his neck awkwardly and said, “You don’t like it? To be attacked?”

“Of course not! Who likes being attacked by monsters?”

Pio shrugged, trying and failing to look casual. “Boys who go off into the woods to fight every night.”

Oh. He saw what was happening. Pio suspected that he and Hogg were the ones luring monsters to attack the caravan, and now he was ‘subtly’ bringing it up to see if Brin would admit to anything.

“That’s different. When I’m hunting, I’m in control. I go in with a plan, and I’m ready, and I get to pick my battles. That’s completely different from these surprise attacks that no one sees coming. They aren’t fun at all.”

Pio shrugged dramatically. “Training does not need to be fun. Maybe your mentor thinks you need to learn to fight when it’s a surprise.”

Brin chuckled. “Sure, and Hogg does do that sometimes. But when he does, it’s just me. Why would he attack the caravan? Is he training the whole camp?”

“Who knows. These tricks of tricky men.” Pio spit on the ground. “Not for me. Animals are simpler.”

“They definitely are. With people, you need all sorts of reasons to make them fight. With animals, you just say ‘come fight me, and they do.’ That must be a good way to get some levels, now that I think of it. You’d be getting experience for luring them, and then more for killing them.”

Pio’s face took on a red cast. “Not so simple as that. Not so simple. You think I can be animal-man who hates animals? No. There is no [Beast Master] who likes to see animals be hurt.”

With nothing else to say, Pio moved on, walking to the oxen and horses one-by-one to pet them and give words of encouragement.

Had he done a good enough job of deflecting Pio’s suspicions? Honestly, the [Beast Master] had gotten in his head a little bit, because he’d made a good point.

Luring monsters to attack the caravan in order to give Brin some experience in a semi-safe environment was absolutely something Hogg would do. He just wouldn’t do that and then lie about it.

Eventually, the caravan crested the long, gentle incline. It didn’t happen all at once like it would in a car. Instead, it just looked like the horizon was gradually sinking. With each step, the bright blue sky grew larger and larger, taking up a bigger portion of his field of view.

The world seemed to be empty on the other side, just a big blue sky, until the horizon appeared. Nothing blocked it, no trees or mountains; Brin could see all the way to the curve of the earth. Then he passed the hilltop entirely, and the entire view was laid bare.

It was nearly overwhelming. After years of being in a thick forest where the biggest open spaces were the short fields or the town square, suddenly being able to see forever was like seeing the sky for the first time. The world just went on and on.

A city sprawled out below them, only twenty miles away. He could finally see it as a field of wooden rooftops painted blue, with chimneys belching black smoke into the air, to make a murky haze above. Here and there he saw much larger buildings, a few palaces and estates, as well as one tower near the center of the city. Back home, this would barely be called a city, but comparing it to Hammon’s Bog it was enormous.

They’d arrived. This was the end of the Boglands. This was Oud’s Bog.