When the sun finally set in Bogland it was on a valley of dead and decaying Stagnatoise shells, their rotting corpses already attracting numerous scavengers and forming an entirely new biome within the poisonous region. The victorious pair of monster hunters returned to town to the raucous applause of absolutely no one. The general consensus was they were there to do a job, what did they expect a parade? The Bogland people saw no danger only a minor annoyance their mayor somehow drummed up support and funds for. Dejected, unappreciated, tired and reeking to high heaven, the new adventurers left Bogland hauling several bags of Stagnatoise meat. Valerie looked back at the appropriately named swamp town, as she and Samantha rode in the back of a cart, and decided they deserved to set boundaries in their adventuring career. First, no swamps and second no turtles.
It had been a long incredibly boring day for the huntress and a mentally exhausting one for the shadow user who lay in a heap mumbling incoherent thoughts about the mutant turtles. Joanne cackled at the two’s misfortune as she drove her cart back to Capital City. As a retired adventurer she knew her way around the Gentile kingdom better than any ferry man and had offered her services in guiding the girls to their first destination. It was not charity however, she fully intended to take the expense out of their reward. After a few colourful words with the new mayor, she was able to increase the contracts total bounty from poor to meagre. A fact she would keep to herself lest the guild take their share for a “commission fee”. Joanne would take her well-deserved and hard-earned portion, the rest she would give to the girls in the form of a discount on their next few meals. It would make for a good lesson; the kind Albert would not be proud of but would ultimately agree was necessary for the two newbies. In Capital City money was more important than clean air and water, if you had the funds the city was your oyster. Speaking of food, all that monster meat was bound to make for some good eats perhaps as a soup.
“Should have gotten you two to pick me up a shell or two, woulda made for a nice bowl!”
She cackled confusing her passengers who groaned and whimpered respectively. Glancing over her shoulder, Joanne couldn’t help but let out another howling laugh that reached all the way to her gut. It was an unspoken rite of passage for new adventurers to always get the short end of the stick and left with jobs no one else wanted to do. It was yet another method to weed out the ones chasing a fad or quick cash, forcing them to face the harsh reality and low pay involved in adventuring. Margaretta especially presented the most bottom of the barrel jobs to newbies and, while Joanne was annoyed when it had happened to her, through age and experience she respected the learning opportunity. Not every monster hunt would be all glory and epic fights, nor would they always be casualty free. Her mocking laugh trickled out and the journey home fell into a sombre silence. The beast woman recalled her own failings due to inexperience, bravado, poor leadership and lack of preparation. Her body was a tapestry of battle scars and lesions telling a harrowing tale that could be traced back to her first contract all the way to the day she quit the guild for good. She hoped the girls wouldn’t have to suffer the same fate, no one deserved to have their dreams shattered so ruthlessly. A groan from Samantha reignited Joanne’s spirit and she belly laughed again.
“The first ones always a stinker, and you got the most rotten!”
She said between cackles while making a show of waving the air from her nose. It wasn’t just a beast man’s normally high sense of smell; the pair could out stink a mutant skunk with several behinds. Which, coincidentally, was a real monster called a Kitskunke who possessed several tails and the accompanying stink glands. No one liked hunting that particular monster, however they were thankfully indigenous only to the land to the east of Natar.
The girls weren’t as bad as that gag inducing creature, but they were still highly offensive to the sinuses. Spending hours in the swamps least desirable tourist local coupled with being drenched in foul smelling tortoise entrails would make for a stench so heinous it could make the dead cringe. Joanne decided she would treat the newbies and introduce them to a business partner of hers, one who specialized in getting rid of extreme odours as well as offering rejuvenating baths. She might also see about getting the girls some real beauty treatments, if the chipped nails and split ends in their hair weren’t evidence enough they had little to no idea how to take care themselves. Underneath all that grime, dirt, sweat, blood, scowls and terrifying aura’s there were a pair of adorable girls just waiting to be unleashed upon the world. Joanne was not maternal by nature, unlike a vast majority of her kind, yet looking at those two pathetic, wimpy, pathetic, disgusting, pathetic, uncouth and above all pathetic girls brought out a sickeningly sweet and caring side. That being said she wasn’t going to bankroll everything just because she saw a little of herself in the two monster hunters. Once again, money talks in the capital and Joanne wasn’t made of the stuff.
If she was, she wouldn’t have asked the girls to bring back so much tortoise meat. She might have felt bad for having them heft a ton of Stagnatoise bits and beaks, but they would appreciate it when she cooked up a brand-new dish just for them. If she could that is, she had never worked with this kind of monster before and would need to experiment a little. If successful, she could make a very limited menu option at a premium price and if she wasn’t well not like she paid anything for it. The entrepreneurial beast woman snickered at the thought, catching Samantha’s attention as she finally became lucid enough to make out her drivers laughs. Voicing her displeasure, the shadow user demanded entertainment like a toddler on a long car journey.
“No… laughing… while the worlds spins. Tell us a… story.”
While she didn’t exactly understand most of the prince’s tall tales or the many associate double entendre, she still enjoyed the act of listening to stories of distant lands just like her father used to tell. Joanne considered the request and decided why not, she could tell them a tale about the greatest beast woman adventurer and chef currently alive. Presumptuous boasts aside, she reminisced about her long life and the many adventures she embarked upon, some grand, some best left forgotten and some far too raunchy for these impressionable murder hobos. There was simply too many to tell and not enough road to tell them on.
“Well, what’d ya wanna hear about?”
She asked forgetting to add the yarn had to be about her, after all who wouldn’t want to learn more about the beast woman? Valerie perked up from where she sat at the back of the cart and asked about a topic she wondered about ever since meeting the ex-adventurer.
“Tell us about your first hunt.”
The beast woman whistled not expecting the pre-prepared request. That was ancient history for her going back twenty years or so. She thought on it before clarifying.
“First kill or first guild contract?”
Valerie made a noncommittal gesture putting the ball back in Joanne’s court to pick whichever she wanted. The beast woman pondered the request, her first guild contract wasn’t anything of note, but it was relatable to the pair’s current circumstances. On the other hand, her first kill possibly held a lesson the two kids needed to here. She decided her first kill would do, solidarity was all fine and dandy, but if the two stuck it out they’d probably find a host of fellow adventurers willing to share their own boring origins. Taking a moment to gather her thoughts she began the sordid tale.
“Back when I was a pup, no older than you two I lived in a tiny blink, and you’ll miss it village. I was an orphan, shocker I know, a mutt amongst perfectly ordinary humans who would have tossed me in a kennel if I didn’t cry and wail about it.”
Joanne declared with the same enthusiasm she always had.
“One day a boy, I don’t remember his name, came running into town talking about a wolf. A real wolf, not like yours truly.”
She put on an old woman’s persona.
“A wolf? In these parts? Why I never!”
Switching to a burly man.
“You calling my son a liar? He says he saw a wolf, you bet your wrinkles he saw a wolf.”
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
She continued the one woman play taking on different roles with increasingly exaggerated voices and gestures. Samantha was enraptured with the performance while Valerie rolled her eyes and waited for the story to continue. Returning back to her usual cadence, Joanne proceeded with the narration.
“There was a lot of back and forth, wives screaming bloody murder, husbands talking all manly about tracking the feral animal, the old folks concerned with how a wolf will affect the rainy season. Then one snot nosed little twerp spoke up above the others.”
Pinching her snout and raising her voice as high as it would go, Joanne sounded like the stereotypical spoiled child who would get bored of playing outside and try to take a ball that wasn’t theirs home.
“Why don’t we sick the dog on the dog?”
Spitting at the ground, Joanne continued, her tone growing angry.
“If you couldn’t tell he meant me. Course I was all for it, thought if I went out and took care of a stupid dog it would make everyone else like me. Spoiler, it didn’t. Next morning I walked out of the village, a stale loaf of bread and rusty sword in hand ready to take on the big bad wolf.”
She fell silent for a second, the gentle scratch as their cart rolled on the only sound. Unaware of the tender moment, Samantha piped up.
“And then?”
“And then… I found it. ‘Cept it wasn’t a wolf. Say you two know what a hellhound is?”
Valerie’s mind flared to life at the mention, and she was flooded with brand new knowledge. A hellhound was a beast from the Infernal realm, they were black or red dogs with glowing orange runes and scriptures blazing across their body. They fed on living flesh and sin which made them not only a physical threat but a spiritual one too. Being attacked by a hellhound was like taking double the damage, first to your body then to your soul. They were violent to a fault yet fiercely loyal to their demonic owners even serving as fodder during large scale conflicts. The huntress nodded to Joanne, her head throbbing from the sudden influx of information.
“I didn’t, not then anyway, know what a hellhound was. I asked Al a couple years back and he went on for ages about some drivel I barely could follow. I got the main points though. Y’see ‘bout a hundred years back during the last Infernal Invasion there was a company of hellhounds ten thousand strong they say that flooded into our world. Most were killed obviously, can’t exactly have the mutts running around causing a ruckus. Despite that, yours truly found a straggler.”
While almost every demonic invasion had been foiled in one way or another their influence on the land persisted often leading to problems that took years to purge. Whether it be large like the collapse of a powerful nation and arrival of dragons or small such as the many curses empowering monsters the demonic influence could not be mistaken. The last invasion brought with them more than just demons and their hellhounds as the Shurle states were plunged into a century long war with an undead hoard that to this day never abated. The demonic tide was unceasing in its feverous desire to destroy and conquer, thankfully it was not the sort of problem a rookie adventurer needed to worry about. Until the remnants of these invasions appeared right next door just like in Joanne’s birthplace.
“I found it under an abandoned church. The little bugger probably thought it had found a den of sin it could feed on, maybe it did and that’s why the place was abandoned, I don’t know.”
She gripped on the reins to her horse and spoke through gritted teeth.
“It was sickly, a runt if I ever saw one. It looked at me with this scared and helpless expression. To this day I don’t know how it got there or how it survived for so long. It was pathetic.”
She did not add how much it reminded her of herself. Alone, no family or even a master to care for it. She hated sympathizing with a monster that would rip her throat out given the chance, yet despite herself, she did all the same.
“So… what happened next?”
Samantha asked again, the same curiosity and unintentional callousness that earned her so much ire in the mines. The question threw Joanne from her tragic state, forcing her to shake off the unbecoming attitude. She returned to a half carefree manner concluding her story.
“What’d ya think? I rammed my sword into its neck and killed it. A monster’s a monster don’t matter how pathetic. After that I picked up the corpse, ran back to town and showed off my first kill. And you what they did? They laughed about it; said it was all a big hoo-ha over a tiny pooch. I got a slap on the back, an old lady tugged at my cheek and then everything went back to normal.”
Despite not ending the story with any dramatic conclusion Joanne was still surprised at her audience’s silence. She didn’t intend to dump all her baggage on the girls but once she started a flurry of long forgotten feelings overtook her. Turning her head, she saw the pair had eerily similar dumbstruck faces. She waited for a standing ovation, overwhelming praise or even just a whoop of excitement. Instead, she was met with a rather unappreciative response.
“That’s it?”
Valerie asked completely missing the point of the story. Joanne shrugged turning back to the road.
“That’s it, my first kill was gutting a sickly and dumb dog. If it helps you feel better, I didn’t stay in the town for long. Left one night, journeyed on the road, met some folks, a couple beast folk like me. Well not like ME, I mean have you seen all this?”
She said gesturing to herself.
“I am an absolute bombshell and a whirlwind in the sack, so I’ve been told. Many times, actually!”
The beast woman laughed and joked the rest of the way home. Valerie barely paid attention, her thoughts still on the story and wondered why Joanne would share it. Maybe it was to show that even someone as impressive as her could be faced with a disappointing hunt. Or worse, maybe it was to try and show that some monsters deserved sympathy instead of hatred. The huntress quickly shooed the thought away, monsters deserved nothing but scorn and a quick death, including passive ones they were just a threat waiting to take their chance. Valerie debated on the story trying to find its meaning or why it mattered while Samantha could only focus on one thing.
“What’s the sack?”
“I’ll tell you when you’re older.”
Her friend immediately answered. There was not a chance SHE was having that conversation with her.
Arriving late back to the city, Valerie and Samantha dashed to the guild while Joanne followed after at a leisurely pace. The new adventurers made it just in time to catch Margaretta locking up for the night. Spotting the pair, the old receptionist contemplated leaving them high and dry to come back in the morning and join the assuredly long line. She ultimately let out a resigned sigh and reopened the door to the guild. It wasn’t out of kindness but pragmatism, dealing with them now while she was still here was better than tomorrow amongst the cavalcade of annoying whelps. Not to mention she didn’t want to be on bad terms with Albert, the two hadn’t seen each other in so long and, of any one in this rotten town, he was deserving of some respect and admiration. Setting down her things and plopping onto the chair behind the temporary desk, Margaretta finally acknowledged the walking annoyances.
“Well? What do you want?”
“We want to turn in a quest.”
Valerie said resolutely yet she was shaking with an excitement she couldn’t quite contain. The quest itself had been a bust, but this was the moment of truth, their true reward for a job well done. Margaretta let out another sigh as Joanne casually entered the guild office. The tall woman ignored any frustrated stares aimed her way and walked up to Margaretta.
“Evening ya old bat, still haunting this place I see.”
The “bat” clicked her tongue at the beast woman’s barb.
“Miss Willow, I will have you know I am only here at this hour for the children’s sake and would kindly ask you refrain from any more digs. I know that’s hard for your kind, you do love to dig, don’t you?”
Valerie and Samantha took an instinctive step back giving space for the ex-adventurer and receptionist to duke it out should it come to blows. The two stared daggers at one another until Joanne broke, throwing her head back and viciously laughing. Casual racism was nothing to the beast woman, she wouldn’t act all high and mighty when she openly called most humans ‘pink skins’ to their faces.
“You still got it Maggie; it has been a long time since I heard one of your clap backs.”
The receptionist stifled a grin feigning indifference to the beast woman. Waving her hand dismissively, as was her signature, she hurried along to the task at hand eager to return home.
“Yes, yes, whatever. Do you have the signature?”
Joanne reached up and plucked a rolled-up sheet from her bosom presenting the slightly sweaty document to Margaretta who looked on in disgust. To prove a contract had been completed a signature from the requester on a guild sanctioned form was needed. It was not a fool proof verification method as every year someone tried to forge a signature or force the requestor to sign under duress. Some cheap individuals also tried stiffing the hard-working adventurers out of their much-deserved payment using ‘charity’ and ‘good nature’ to their advantage. Such practices quickly found the offending adventurer or requestor blacklisted from the guild until such a time as they proved they could be trusted again. Joanne was aware of this harsh stipulation and ensured the Bogland mayor knew to keep his trap shut about any extra pay for the girl’s contract.
Fishing out a different sheet, the receptionist compared the signature provided by Joanne with one the guild had on file when the request was made. Satisfied that both matched, she stamped the sheets filing them away. If she was so inclined she could request a veteran guild member travel to the requestors home for additional details or to confirm the job had been completed to the letter. She opted not to, not only was it a major hassle for all involved but it was the girls first real job, and they appeared earnest in their desire to remain with the guild. Retreating to a locked room in the back, Margaretta counted out the girls pay before returning and handing the small coin satchel off. She then began to half-heartedly recite a script she was forced to memorise decades ago.
“Congratulations adventurer, you are a credit to your community and blah blah blah, role model for the next generation blah blah blah, go forth with our blessing and blah blah blah. You get the idea. Are we done?”
Valerie and Samantha huddled together to count up the pittance of a paycheck staring in awe at the assortment of glittering coins. They had no idea how they would split their earnings nor what they could use them on. Regardless it was the sign of a hard day’s work, and both were pleased with the results. When they learned the actual value of their earnings and all the things they couldn’t purchase with it their tune would quickly change. About to walk out of the guild, the pair were stopped by Joanne loudly asking.
“Say, don’t you wanna get another job while you’re here?”
The smug pleasure she felt, draped plainly across her face, was made all the sweeter by Margaretta’s own annoyed expression. The young pair looked at each other, their small sack of coins and then the receptionist. The pleading looks on their faces could have melted an ice golems frozen heart, it was so precious. Throwing her hands up in defeat, Margaretta stalked off to the contract notice board and picked out a selection of jobs, excluding those marked with a red cross. Tossing the small stack down, she fell back into her seat and rubbed at her temples. Still lacking in any reading proficiency, the pair relied on Joanne’s judgement as she slowly and casually perused the available offers. Scratching her chin and carefully reading through the various jobs she finally settled on one placing it before the receptionist who looked on in revulsion.
“Really? They already thoroughly stunk up this office in the twenty minutes they’ve been here, I’ll be smelling them for a week, and you want to send them to ANOTHER swamp?”
The pair snapped to attention at the revelation and were about to protest when Joanne held up her hand shushing them. Tapping a clawed finger on the contract, she corrected the old receptionist.
“No, not a swamp or a bog. It’s a bayou.”