Chapter 4: Aftermath Part 3

The party followed Brynnly to Farmer Jenkins’s place the next morning. As they approached the farm, they were greeted near the farmhouse door by a Jenkins who did not seem in a reasonable mood as he sat on a bench with a pipe and crutches at his side. He fumed as he produced smoke from his pipe in little clouds with a glower on his face.

“Bout time,”

He snapped, then took a smoke-free breath. He visibly calmed himself and continued,

”Sorry, Brynnly, adventurers, foot has got me ornery this morning. Thanks for coming so quickly.”

Nixen smiled at the grumpy farmer and replied,

”No need for apologies, farmer Jenkins. I’ve never been one to be happy about dealing with my own wounds m’self. Please, if I may see the damage? I am a Paladin and may be able to assist.”

Brynnly looked surprised at the offer and tried to subtly encourage the farmer from behind the sight of the rest of the party, but Jenkins didn’t seem to notice as he pursed his lips and replied,

“Might be ya could…what would it cost me? I give my prayers to Clod, god of farming, and I’ll not piss him off lightly, and I don't have much t’spare besides.”

Nixen laughed in a good-natured way as the dwarf responded,

”No worries, friend. Clod is brothers with Jeph, God of baking, and neither are jealous gods. Leave a saucer of milk out twice a month for a year at night, and Jeph should be appeased. Doing good works in his name is part of my job.”

It was Jenkins’s turn to be surprised,

”Jeph? Odd god for a dwarf to follow.”

“Heh, odd god.”

Winnie interrupted.

Nixen ignored this.

“The works of the hearth are not so far from the works of the forge. Care and love go into both. I can feed potential converts my bread more than once, not so much with my axe,”

A glint had appeared in the dwarf’s eye as of a joke long treasured.

Jenkins grunted and nodded his assent.

Having the farmer’s permission, the others in the dwarf’s party made room to let the paladin take a look at the farmer’s injury. Then, gently raising the injured limb, Nixen placed it on a stool near the bench and gently unwrapped it.

Winnie, Omara, and Cato all winced at the lacerations as they were uncovered, but Nixen nodded at the expertly cleaned and stitched wounds. The dwarf whistled softly in appreciation,

“This is well tended. I guess I know where your spare coin went. A healer capable of this work would not come cheaply.”

Brynnly spoke up at this,

“Nay. Lord Tom has two healers on retainer to care for his folk, the other two take a collection from the towns folk for their share. That be healer Prisca’s work.”

All four adventurers’ brows raised at this. Omara spoke up with a question,

”The whole county? Isn’t that…expensive? Does he skimp elsewhere, then? To pay for that?”

Jenkins looked cross at the suggestion his lord would be negligent in anything he did for his people, but before he could reply, Brynnly spoke up again,

“Again, nay. Lord Tom spends very little on his household. Granted, our guard is a bit smaller than some counties, but not much. I’ve seen him arguing with his castellan more than once about finding funds to support us all with basics. You’ll find no vagrants or hungry in our lands either. Plenty of work and food for all.”

Jenkins stared at the man.

“Chatty today, are we?”

Brynnly grunted.

Cato looked doubtful as Winnie and Omara looked impressed at the ranger’s information. Nixen appeared thoughtful, and Jenkins mollified.

“Very well,”

Said Nixen,

”Let me appeal to Jeph for his bounty to be measured for a faithful citizen in a well-warmed land. Winnie, did you get a good enough look to tell us more about what mob may have done this?”

The burly druid took another look at the injured farmer and said,

”Not much to find out. Whatever hit him was about toddler-size. Strong claws but not very big teeth. That’s all I can tell from the wounds.”

Jenkins nodded in agreement,

”Little bastard was burrowing under the fence in my south field. I’ve seen a few of them sneaking my crops afore. Kind of a cross between a bear cub and badger.”

Bout the size and shape of a ten-year-old for the biggest, with red eyes and white fur. Claws are strong, and they have thin sticks or somethin’ comin’ out their heads.”

Short muzzle…that’s about it.”

Winnie nodded, and Omara asked another question,

“Any magic observed?”

Jenkins shook his head,

”Less you call being hard to catch a spell. Every other time I’ve tried to catch em’, they scarpered right quick. They ignore traps too.”

“Very well,”

Said Nixen,

”Let us tend to that foot, and we’ll be on our way to the site.”

So saying, Nixen gently grasped the farmer’s foot with both hands and softly spoke a simple prayer.

”Oh Jeph, let the healing rise, oh Jeph.”

At the dwarf’s simple words, a soft glow emanated from the foot between the gauntlets. The long gashes, so recently sutured by the healer Prisca, visibly started to fuse the edges. Jenkins let out a small gasp at the sensation of his flesh being kneaded together.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

Brynnly’s eyebrows raised. The quiet man had seen some things as a professional lookiloo. This was only his second time seeing genuine divine healing.

The rest of Nixen’s party looked impatient to start their task. Unfortunately, power from the gods didn’t impress as much after a few months of seeing it.

Jenkins gaped down at his mostly healed foot. Soft scabs had formed over the deeper, longer gashes.

The smaller had turned to healthy pink flesh. He poked his foot and was surprised when it only faintly hurt. Nixen spoke before the visibly pleased farmer could stand,

“Follow your healer’s instructions for now. Brynnly, can you send for the healer to double-check this?”

Brynnly nodded.

“I’ll swing by her place on my way as I report to the Lord.”

“Good, I’ll not have a healer upset with me for helping you hurt yourself, farmer Jenkins. Your body used up a lot of itself to heal that quickly.”

Nixen removed his pack from a shoulder and fished out two loaves of bread, and handed them to the farmer,

”Eat these, and get some meat in you as well.”

Farmer Jenkins took the loaves with gratitude. He was unexpectedly hungry inappropriately quickly. The farmer spoke through a mouthful of bread and a small spray of crumbs,

”Off to slay the varmints?”

Nixen nodded and looked at Brynnly,

”We’ve learned what we can here. Take us to the site.”

Brynnly waved for the party to follow as he headed south from the farmhouse. They moved down the side of the cornfields towards the fence line bordering farmer Jenkins’s property, then continued to walk the fence line for a short period until the bulk of the corn blocked any view of the farmhouse. The disturbed earth where they stopped was still freshly churned.

Brynnly motioned to the partially collapsed hole in the earth as he pulled out the crude map that had been found,

“The tunnels start here. They head towards the wood to the south.”

The party clumped together around Brynnly to view the map. Unfortunately, it wasn’t well drawn.

Portions of the beat-up parchment seemed more scratched with a charcoal stick rather than illustrated. Winnie seemed distracted by something on the other side of the fence as the group poured over the map.

Cato slapped his hands together and said,

”Right. Follow me!”

Winnie widened her eyes as she shouted,

”Wait!”

Then Cato grabbed the top of the short fence and hopped over, landing on the cleared ground on the other side. Regrettably, his left foot sank into the deceptively firm earth as he landed, and a CRUNCH was heard.

Black and yellow motes boiled out of the ground around his foot, and Cato started screaming as he was attacked by the swarm he had unleashed upon them all.

“Beeeeeeeeeee’s!”

He screamed.

They all started swatting frantically at the angry little insects, except Winnie. She had taken several steps back and started rummaging through her pack.

She pulled out a few small pouches. Then, loosening the drawstrings, she quickly began a soft chant and scattered strangely colored, powdered contents from one or two.

The cloud of insects around the group started slowly dispersing in random directions. The group panted in recovery, wincing at the tender welts received from the stings of the pissed-off, flying, hate bugs.

Winnie calmly secured the pouches to her belt within easy reach and took out two jars of salve. Then, handing one to Nixen, she hopped over the fence to lean over Cato.

She yanked up his pant legs and started to apply a generous amount of salve to his legs, which had received the worst attendance of the swarm.

“Wasps.”

Winnie stated.

“What?”,

Cato panted.

“Those were wasps. You can tell from the body structure, differing head shape, and coloration on the face and thorax. Also, they can sting multiple times and hate everything.”

Cato groaned in reply as the rest of the party clambered over the fence, and Omara helped Cato to his feet after Winnie finished tending to his wounds. Winnie was examining the ground that Cato had disturbed.

She turned to Nixen as the dwarf finished climbing down the fence, surprisingly sturdy to support a dwarf in plate Armor. The dwarf had come through primarily unscathed, thanks to said armor.

A few welts on the uncovered skin on the head and face of the dwarf. But otherwise, they were fine.

“Talk to me, Winnie. Accident or dungeon born?”,

The dwarf asked.

“Natural wasps, but not ground-dwelling. Something planted that nest,”

The burly druid replied.

“Wasps shouldn’t be allowed to be that naturally angry,”

Cato commented as he was hobbling back to his feet. He had taken the brunt of the swarm’s fury as he had landed on top of it.

The dwarf looked ready to comment on this observation but thought better of it and started to snap out orders,

“Winnie, your upfront with Cato checking for traps, natural or planted. Don’t you say it. Yes, yes, planted traps, druid, I get it.

Omara behind me, we might need you for firepower, and I’m a little more durable. Brynnly, head back to the Lord and inform him we are starting the hunt.

We will report back before sundown. If we don’t return or get word to you, assume the worst and send for an escalation team using this.”

Retrieving an object from his pack, the dwarf handed the ranger a simple white ceramic disk about a hand across outlined with copper and a black design of an exclamation point in the center. On either side of the disc were small nobs with markings surrounding them.

“Break the disk, and a reclamation team will be sent from the guild headquarters in Purpolis. So throw it somewhere a party can teleport in. Don’t hold the pieces in your hands, or you’re gonna have a bad time. And don’t fiddle with the nobs.”

Brynnly took the disk from the paladin gently.

“How much extra will this cost, my lord?”

Nixen’s smile was a little strained as the dwarf replied,

“I’m lord of none, ranger Brynnly. Standard precaution, the cost comes from our monthly dues to the guild.”

It’s pretty expensive, so don’t break it unless we don’t get back or don’t send word before dark. You shouldn’t need to, but it’s part of our SAP, Stupid Avoidance Procedures. It ensures the county’s safety along with our rescue if required.”

Brynnly nodded doubtfully at the name but tucked the disk into a strap outside his compact rucksack. He then gently tied another piece of rope he pulled from his pack to secure it. Finally, he waved to the adventurer party and headed back towards the Crook Shire manor house to report to Lord Tom.

As Brynnly started walking away, Omara, sporting an impressive sting welt on her upper lip, gestured with a soft chant and summoned an ethereal hand of fire floating over her left shoulder. Looking at Nixen with another glint in her eye, she said,

“I’ll handle it, Nixen.”

Brynnly groaned louder at this than he had after the swarm left him with welts. He muttered softly to himself as he started walking faster,

“What is wrong with you, people? Isn’t the danger we face enough of a punishment?”

The party overheard the soft words, then Omara started giggling, and Winnie grinned at the giggles. Cato opened his mouth to reply, but Nixen cut him off. With a wooden face, the dwarf responded,

”Don’t add to the problems. Come on, people, we’ve got a current one to solve.”

The party moved towards the woods methodically and cautiously, exploring the ground. No more wasp nests were found as they approached the tree line, though a few of the tunnels on the map had collapsed.

However, the tunnels were narrow enough that most of the party stepped over them, except for Nixen, who only needed a short hop to clear them.

Reaching the tree line, Winnie and Cato began to advance into the woods. Winnie looked everywhere as she went. Cato looked straight ahead of where he traveled. That may be why he saw the chest first.

“Unusual is dangerous, right? Anybody seen a chest sitting unattended in the woods before?”