Chapter 26

“Welcome to Hideaway,” the woman called out to me, as she led me through the gates. “I’m sorry about the way we parted last time, but… You’re a trouble magnet. I didn’t want to stick around any longer than I had to.”

Hideaway was… appropriately named. The walls had been put up using what looked like most of the trees that had filled the space it consumed, but left just enough that it wasn’t an obvious clearing. Ramshackle hovels and lean-to’s marked the spaces into dwellings, every space just a few feet away from its’ neighbors. It was cramped and smelly, bombarding me with smells I’d forgotten; unwashed bodies, the stink of fear, a little of the smell of blood, but also the smell of something cooking. For the first time since arriving in the Tutorial, I felt hungry. People visibly ducked out of sight as we weaved our way through the squatter’s village and toward one of the larger trees. Small, careful cook-fires huddled around it, their thin streamers of smoke trickling up to disperse among the branches above. There was a marked out pathway up the side of the tree to a platform maybe thirty or forty feet up.

A small, shaky-looking wooden platform descended, two people aboard it carefully feeding out rope to bring it to a swinging halt just above the uneven ground. She hopped slightly up onto the platform, and gestured for me to climb aboard. I hopped a step up onto it, and grabbed onto the rickety railing that wrapped around the edges of it. I heard the two men counting in unison as they pulled, dragging us back up.

As we went up, my concerns grew further. First off, the two men seemed to be struggling to pull up a platform with only four people on it, muscles straining under the weight. I had a hard time understanding how that could be; I was strong enough to break trees with a few punches, and I wasn’t even specialized into that kind of thing. Second, the more I could see of the town, the less organized it looked, dwellings ranging from sticks and a roof of woven branches to a couple that seemed to be actual log cabins. The people that I could see moving looked scared, flitting from place to place.

Lastly, there was a gap in the walls maybe twenty feet wide, the splintered ruins around it bearing the marks of frantic battle. The small carefully dug cemetery just outside seemed to confirm it, nearly a dozen neat piles of dirt. Whatever had broken through the walls there seemed to have done some serious damage before it was defeated or driven off.

I felt one side of the platform listing slightly, and as I looked at the man, I could see that he was struggling, his count ragged and a little off, his side dipping down more every moment. Finally, he moved to switch hands on the rope to pull up again, and it started to slide from his grip, the unevenly woven rope cutting into his palm for a moment before it began to fall.

I reached out with one hand and snatched up the rope, stopping the dangerous lean with barely any effort. I looked at the man, irritated, and he shrunk away from me, mumbling apologies. The woman looked at me oddly, and the man on the other rope hunched his shoulders as if expecting trouble. I sighed and rolled my eyes, grabbing onto the rope with my other hand. “Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention to the count. Start over?” The silence lingered for a few seconds, before a sheepish-sounding agreement came back from the other man, who began to count again in a much more subdued tone. Something in the woman’s gaze was calculating, watching the ease with which I pulled us up. We finally arrived at the platform, and I tied off my rope to a conveniently placed stake that seemed to be made for the purpose. I stepped off the platform, happy to leave that rattling deathtrap behind me, and looked back when I realized the woman wasn’t following me. She made a thoughtful sound, and stepped off after me, gesturing me toward one of the curtain-blocked doorways to another section of the platform. Behind the ragged-looking curtain was a cramped and incongruous sight; a dozen men and women were scattered around the confines of the room, improvised chairs of all types scattered around, many with what seemed to be actual cushions made from a familiar roughspun brown material. I wasn’t sure where they’d gotten quite so many of the tutorial clothes from, but the fact that they were using it for furniture…

None of them stood as I entered, though a hand raised across the room, gesturing us closer. A blonde woman, with a lean, wolf-life look, and wearing armor made of layered leather sat at the head of a table slightly larger than the others, chairs huddled around it like refugees. The redhaired woman I was following took a seat at the table, seeming to sprawl despite the small chair. As I got closer, I realized that her armor reeked. The leather hadn’t all been properly cured, and there was no way it was comfortable to wear. I was amazed she hadn’t cut off her nose just to not have to smell her own armor.

The leather-wearing woman looked to the rogue, and she jerked her head toward me. “Alright. He’s here.” She paused. “Who th’ fuck is he?”

“Introduce yourself,” the redheaded rogue prompted me.

“Uhm. David.” I wasn’t sure what else to say. This whole situation was off.

“Lyrella,” the woman snapped gruffly, “Path of Martial Might. I am Hideaway’s strongest warrior, and I have slain a dozen boars with my bare hands. ” She held up her hands in a gesture she seemed intended to be intimidating.

“Cenna,” the redheaded rogue stated in turn, “Path of Cunning & Guile. I am Hideaway’s recruiter, looking for other adventurers to strengthen our walls. I was in the process of recruiting that group that you… saw… when things went sideways.”

I rolled my eyes. It was like a bunch of people playing pretend, wielding fancy titles like foam swords to beat each other with. Instead of reintroducing myself the way they’d indicated, I just leaned in. “What level are you, Lyrella?” I frowned at her. “It can’t be very high if you stay in here all the time.”

Her face reddened, Nordic pale skin flushing a cherry color that made Cenna’s hair look blonde in comparison. “I’ll have you know, ” Lyrella snapped back, “That is an entirely inappropriate question to ask of your host. ” She paused. “But so you know to behave, I,” she held a hand to her chest, clenched into a fist, “Am level fourteen. ” She stated the number with a vicious pride, as if the number itself was a flex of some kind. “So, what do you bring to the table, ‘David’? I’ll have you know, we only have so much room for powerful warriors here, and no matter what Cenna says of your abilities, if you’re not at least level ten, you can find your own way out.” She gestured dismissively, illustrating her point.

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What? I stared at her for several long seconds in confusion, her face reddening even further. I noted the way Cenna carefully turned her face aside, her expression schooled to a blank mask. I laughed in disbelief, confusion warring with amusement and losing out. “I’m sorry, have you just been sitting here since we got into this place?” Another laugh bubbled out. I suspected she wasn’t the best person to piss off, but I couldn’t restrain the question.

“We defend these walls,” she enunciated clearly. “We are the only defense standing between these people and the dangers of the forest. We have chosen to be their guardians until the Tutorial is at an end and we can return to our world.” The way she gestured, almost maternally, to the town below almost drew another laugh from me.

“You know most of those forest creatures aren’t… dangerous, right? I mean, I killed my first boar when I had barely walked out of my introduction.” I shrugged, hands splayed out at shoulder height to either side. “But if you shelter them all, how are they supposed to get stronger?”

“They don’t need to get stronger with people like us around,” she growled back, slowly drawing herself to her feet. “That’s enough, Cenna. He’s not welcome here.” I only belatedly realized the whole room had gone silent. The other warriors around the room frowned at me. None of them had stood or made a move toward me, yet , but I understood when I wasn’t welcome.

“Well. Alright then. I guess I’ll go.” I stood up abruptly, and grinned inwardly at the flinch that ran through the room; they’d been ready for a fight. I stalked over to the lift, shoving aside the curtain to exit the room and walking toward the lift. I grabbed one of the ropes nearby, and simply let myself slide down it, barely noticing the heat of friction on my palm. I looked up at my arm as I descended, the robes having fallen back loosely as I held my arms out above me.

For the first time, I realized I was covered in thick, rope-like burns from where the first Hydra Bush had attacked me and I’d been forced to burn the branches away. I touched my neck a little, feeling the same callous-like rough skin there. I must’ve been quite the sight, covered in knotted scars like that, wearing robes and laughing as I went.

I heard a thump behind me, and realized Cenna had been just a step behind. “Damnit, David, what the hell was that?” She was furious, her cheeks flushed. “I bring you into Hideaway on my honor, take you to the most powerful fighter here, and you insult her until she kicks you out? What the hell is wrong with you?”

She planted her fists on her hips, raising one hand to jab a finger in my face.

“Nineteen,” I responded, levelly, staring at her finger as if my gaze alone could ignite it; it probably could.

She frowned at me for a moment, and her expression flickered between confusion and disbelief. “What?”

“Nineteen. I am level nineteen.”

I could see the moment where the protests and accusations died on her lips.

“I cleared two towers on my own, and the third with your help. I fought Marcus twice, and injured that huge snake enough to drive it off.” I didn’t bother clarifying who Marcus was; explaining him seemed complicated.

The way her eyes flickered toward the trail of devastation that had clearly only narrowly passed them by told me she understood what I meant by ‘huge snake’. “That’s impossible. Each tower is meant to be challenged by a group of five people, with each tower becoming sequentially harder until the fifth tower, which is the last.”

This time it was my turn to frown. “How do you know all of that? The towers didn’t exactly have instruction manuals by the doors.”

She shook her head. “My Shepherd explained it all to me; each of us got the same explanation about the System, the Scribe, and this tutorial’s Challenge. We were expecting to have a couple of weeks to build up to awakening the Greenwarden, but somehow it got awakened way earlier than expected.” She chewed on her bottom lip for a moment, as if trying to decide what to say or not to say.

“What?” I stared at her in confusion. “My Shepherd just kept throwing some creatures at me until I defeated them.” A pause as she stared at him like he’d gone mad. “She just kinda insulted me a bunch and then shoved me out the door. Wasn’t exactly the most helpful person I’ve ever met. Kinda like your boss.” I threw the last line at her like an insult, and flipped the bird toward the perched platforms. “What the hell is this place, ‘Cenna’? Why are people hiding behind walls and living in tents?” I gestured around us. “This is ridiculous. They should be out there, fighting instead of hiding.”

Her cheeks flushed darker. “Being ‘out there’ is how so many people died. Do you know what made that breach in the walls? We encountered a pack of Boarfiends with one really big one in it, and it killed fifteen people before we were able to get there and put an end to it. Fifteen people, David. They wouldn’t last a day outside.”

“Of course not, with you nursing them along! They should all be strong enough to defend themselves. Those Boarfiends are nothing once you learn how to fight them.”

She bit off her next words, shaking her head. “You’re selfish. Not everyone can run around callously murdering everything they meet.”

Her accusation enraged me. I willed down the words I’d been aiming to speak, the only thing betraying the depth of my anger was the radiating aura of heat that suddenly spilled out around me, as if ready for battle. I turned away from her and began walking, following the smell of cooking food. “I’m going to eat, and then I’m going to leave. Thanks for the tour, ‘Cenna.’” I rolled my eyes as I stalked out toward the smell of roasting meat. I hadn’t felt hungry since I’d first arrived, but now I was very tempted by the smell. At least they could do that right.