The Hunter's Guide to Monsters

Chapter 48 - [Bonus ] To The Maw

Looking for a caravan to join was easier than Krow thought.

Visiting Docent Ordoi after his bindings were done gained him the acquaintance of one of the docent's relatives, a wagon driver for one of the caravans currently in Nyurajke.

Even more pleasingly, they were leaving in the evening.

"More efficient this way," one of the caravan guards shrugged as Krow helped him load supplies. "Seven hours up the Pass, we reach the Maw. Not the most pleasant eight hours through, and we come out of the Maw into morning sunshine on the main trade road. Won't stop until dark, after that."

"Is the caravan in a hurry?"

Krow learned that there were two ways to go through the Pass. One was through the actual Pass between the mountains, which took two days, and the other was the Maw – a tunnel that went under the mountains, which from what the driver said, took just fifteen hours.

The guard laughed. "We're an EYTC caravan. The faster the better."

Essax, Yaredtel, Talor, and Co. was one of the major trade companies in Western Marfall. Insurance and seatrade, mostly.

His last life had an account with their bank in Baraldore.

"I didn't see a branch in Nyurajke."

"There isn't one. In the highlands, there's only the Cyzarkka Bank allowed in the cities and towns."

So his last life's impression of the draculkar race being insular wasn't too off the mark. It was just less pronounced in this time.

"Krow!" Docent Ordoi's cousin's nephew Charakh called from where he was adjusting the canvas on the frame of one of the wagons. "We're leaving within the hour, so you should do a ready check of your own. Wouldn't want to forget anything."

Krow waved in acknowledgement.

"I suggest water," murmured the guard. "There are many water sources on the journey, but it's summer. Not all of them are drinkable. Go on."

Krow was familiar with the practice; he'd lived near swamps that sirens had deliberately poisoned. The summer heat evaporated the water so much that water filtering magics and items couldn't get all the toxins out.

So even this far into the snowmelt territory, there were contaminated waters?

Exciting.

He nodded his thanks to the guard and jogged to Orddet's. He remembered he had Spells being delivered.

His trade-vault was fuller, he noticed.

More Starseeker items and ethermica.

The Spells, thankfully, had already arrived. He installed them into Spell Slots immediately.

[Firecoil] allowed him to control a ribbon of flame. It was mostly utility at this point, the ribbon being just thirty centimeters in length.

Mastered, it was versatile. He could use it as a whip weapon, a shield, and to control the area of battle. Mostly, he bought it because there were a thousand and one instances where having viable source of fire was useful.

[Shadowbind] was a crowd control spell, mainly. At Mastery, he could freeze or briefly control multiple high-level opponents by connecting with their shadows. Currently, he could only freeze one opponent in their tracks.

It was a great spell for a solo player.

He'd seen it and its mastery upgrades used to devastating effect by several players who didn't even have Shadow alignments. With [Shadowbind], he wouldn't lose that many bullets because his still shitty accuracy with moving targets.

The [Seeping Coral Greaves] and the [Healthful Gorget Necklace] were added to his armor Equipset.

"Equip-one."

The equipment set automatically graced his body.

Krow opened his profile to the avatar page. Seeing himself in armor, he grinned.

He looked dangerous.

A Lvl 5 in elite armor. What a disgrace, he smirked.

If people could see all the Rares on his body, they'd excoriate him in word and video, as a pay-to-win player.

He chuckled. They wouldn't be wrong, exactly.

If ever transmigration to Zushkenar happened, he wanted to be rich, to have the buffer of resources.

For him, winning was not going to war.

For him, winning was to have to power to make his own choices, to have the strength to protect himself.

He'd spend much for that.

His goals were simple: at least Lvl 100 before the Quake, and a defensible manor estate.

With physical and economic power, he could live a good life in Zushkenar. A better life than before.

"Unequip-one."

He exited Orddet's with a light step and headed to the shops.

Ten casks of water didn't significantly damage his wallet, so he wandered into a sweetshop and chose a selection of candies.

Charakh's wagon was a passenger wagon, with several families from East Marfall. He wanted bribes for the instances the children wouldn't leave him alone, were too noisy, were too energetic, and so forth.

Walking toward the caravan, he saw the driver waving, already seated. The lead wagons of the caravan had already started moving out.

He jogged to the wagon, boosted himself up to the driver's bench.

"Why does he get to sit up front?" piped up a milky voice.

Krow turned to see a tiny human girl pouting behind the bench. He smiled. "Because I know how to use a weapon."

"Papa can use a weapon."

He glanced at the man keeping a watch on the girl, while sending warning daggers at Krow with his eyes. Krow nodded amiably at him. "But if he sat here, he wouldn't be able to sit with you. That's very sad, don't you think?"

The girl thought for a moment, then nodded.

Krow equipped his mask. He'd had to remove it when he and Sucar fled the sewers to the Guardhouse, but he was leaving town already.

"Why are you wearing a mask?"

He was a little more comfortable with a mask, okay?

Krow glanced at Charakh, who had his scarf wound in fluffy coils around his lower face and neck.

"Draculkar noses are sensitive," he came up with a viable excuse. "The wagon in front of us is carrying spices."

"Really!" Another voice, young, joined the girl. Krow glanced back to see a small vargvir grimacing. "You can smell that too?"

"Arron…" came a cautionary voice from inside the wagon.

"Our noses don't quite have the sensitivity of the vargvir sense of smell, but yes."

The boy was old enough that he understood the broader meaning. He sent Krow a fanged grin. "Our noses are the best!"

"Of the nine races, yes," Krow answered absently, watching the circles of light that marked lamps and torches on caravan wagons dance almost hypnotically in orderly lines up the mountainside. "Then the draculkar. Third by a far margin are the sirens, though they still smell far more than the rest of the races."

There was a silence.

Krow blinked, looked around to see everyone in earshot staring at him.

"What?"

The driver chuckled. "That's a very strange thing to know."

"I used to live with a very strange craftmaster."

Actually, there was a ranking list on the forums, his last life. But hey, he'd take every chance to blame any of his weirdness on the old man.

There was a yell from the front, then a shouted argument.

"What was that?"

Charakh shook his head. "Minor collision, likely. Don't worry, happens all the time." He perked up as the wagon in front started to move. He clicked his tongue at the green-spine mules pulling the wagon. "Ho! We're off!"

He was answered by acknowledging yells from the wagons behind.

Five hours up the mountain trail were actually soothing, if a little jarring here and there on the uneven road.

That was when they were attacked.

The guards took the brunt of it, but Krow downed three of the enraged windrats before they crushed the spokes of the wagonwheels in their strong jaws.

He rounded the wagon, alert for more of the attacking herd.

"Is it over?" the vargvir child peered over the back of the wagon. He was younger than Sein, probably not even ten years old.

Krow grabbed one of the frame struts, pulled himself onto the end-gate so he wouldn't be left behind by the still-moving wagon.

"The guard sent most of the rats running."

"Rats?"

"Windrats. This high on the mountain, the biggest grow bigger than you. They were probably attracted by the smell of the produce on the cargo wagons. It's night, so they attacked." In daytime, they'd not be so aggressive.

"Oh. Like the wolves from before?"

"Like the wolves." Krow agreed. "It's late. You should go to sleep."

The kid made a protesting sound, but a word from someone had him moving deeper into the wagon.

Krow dropped off the end-gate and jogged to the front, returning to the driver's bench.

Charakh nodded at him. "You should get to bed. It's looks less than three hours until moonset. Our eyes won't be much use then."

"A bit more."

"Look." The driver pointed as they rounded a rock formation. "The Maw. Always get a chill when I see it."

Moonlight shone on a small valley below them, lines of lights dancing through. But at the end of the valley, there was a darkness.

It was a cavern, he realized. A massive one.

It seemed to absorb moonlight, no light illuminated its insides. There were caravans there already. One by one, the lamps and torches of their wagons entered that darkness and faded, like they were being swallowed by a black hole.

"Have you gone through it before?"

Krow's skin crawled at the idea. He shook his head.

The driver sighed. "Eight hours of being below ground. Not a good thing for draculkar, I tell you. I only drove it in its entirety once, and never want to do it again." He eyed Krow. "You should go wake Enned up. He'll take over the driving and spare us."

The moment the siren Enned took the reins, Krow settled into a blanket and logged out.

The morning of Sunday, November 6, was bright and chilly, few clouds in the sky. The weather report warned of heavy rain in the afternoon.

Eli showered in hot water.

Eight hours through the Maw, the driver and guard said. He glanced at the clock.

He'd programmed moonset into his wallclock. Today it was noted at 10:30 a.m. to 1:30 p.m.

He should return 2 p.m. at the earliest. That would be 7 a.m. in Redlands.

Walking out into the sunshine, thoughts of the cold dark underground path through the mountain melted away like a delicate snowflake.

The taxi station wasn't crowded so much, and he was at the Haversun Activity Center before 10 a.m.

The Center was buzzing with activity. Eli tried to remember a time when it was this charged with energy.

He couldn't.

Even as unashamedly raucuous as old people could be, the Center always exuded serenity with its gracefully swooping lines and calming palette of pale shades and earthy hues.

He entered the media hall. It had been renovated since he saw it last, with more comfortable armchairs and what appeared to be compact power generators.

He supposed the Center couldn't exactly justify buying bio-cradles for the entertainment of senior citizens.

A burst of arguing voices turned his head. He wasn't surprised to see his aunt's group. He turned on a heel and made for the corner they'd staked out.

Only, another person was entering the room. They nearly collided.

"Sorry!" came the yelps from three mouths.

"Oh, it's you!"

Eli looked up, adjusting his glasses. He stared. They stared.

He huffed a laugh. "You again."

Chapter End

Notes:

Equipped profile:

Head: -

Face: -

Shoulders: -

Chest: [Starseeker Travelcoat] [B+ Unique]