Twenty four mouths opened wide and then moved up and down; gnawing at the bones of squirrels, rabbits, and runner birds. Old Man Thane was stirring his cooking pot as he watched all the young folk who sat in the refectory, or as Petra called it scrap hall. Scraps was the right word for it. No amount of magic could turn what remained of their supplies into enough to get by on.
It took two days for the seventy one heads moving about the monastery to eat through their supplies. This morning, the start of their third day, was bone broth soup. The only thing Thane could make enough of.
[I hope that fool returns with more than enough. And if so I’ll beg him for the truth of the forty mutinies. If not then I’ll pin him to the ground and force him to spill it.]
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Dale caught on quickly that the old man named Thane wanted something from him. So he kept far away from the old man, weighing the scale down in his favor for a future fruitful barter. He considered that the old man knew well that he was once a pirate and may well know who he once was.
It had been ten years since the last treasure hunter had found Dale. Most that sought him out, did so for information or assistance on ripe shipping routes. Some even paid for treasure maps drawn by memory and inked in his blood. Those maps were not fake but long dug up and taken by his old crew.
Getting away from the Old Man would surely steer the price higher. So Dale had nominated himself Purser of the monastery. The masses stood silent and bewildered at his proclamation.
When none spoke, Dale seconded his own nomination
“Hord’n for winter. I’s be responsible for scourin’ the forest for supplies.”
All remained silent while Petra moved towards the slender balding man.
“Daft you lot, nought a ones enjoys a belly gnawing itself raw. Say ‘Ay!’ and I’s then selects my crew to bloody.”
Petra, the little leader, stared him down for a solid two minutes before she nodded and with her nod came the boy, Zeek, and then the First Blade and a bit more reluctantly, the Old Man's nod.
Dale selected fifteen young refugees to join him. He called them his daft little spiders. They all had what he liked to call the hidden shine. That quality in a person that needs a rough voyage on the open sea to set their path and sometimes a little spit to really bring out their shining capabilities. Four girls and eleven boys, the lot of them between the ages of nine and twelve.
Petra tasked Zeek with handing out daggers, spears, twine, baskets, and nets as needed. The brother and sister must have done a lot of foraging and hunting in the Arzick forest; they had provided everything Dale and his fifteen required, save experience. Though, Dale did not intend for that to be lacking for long.
Dale had spent the day and night before setting out working with the five who had the most hidden shine in them. He showed them snares and simple tracking techniques for small animals.
The First Blade had joined for a few hours and explained how to navigate the forest but that seemed simple enough. One only needed to move towards the bright blue beam that flared out from the monastery lighthouse.
Dale had picked the oldest boy, Mako, to lead the seven oldest of the crew. The seven remaining younger boys and girls would be led by Dale. Many were nervous and Dale had given none an opportunity to shy from their new found responsibilities. Any sailor, pirate or not, will tell you that once you’ve proven your worth, sailing through storms or under assault, that experience feeds your confidence and you find yourself willing to do it again. This time even better than before.
Early that morning Dale set out with his crew of daft little spiders. As the group walked beyond the stone walls of the monastery Dale set out their tasks.
Mako would lead the crew to the North for four hours. Along the way they will keep quiet and pluck leaves and twigs to make an autumn wreath. Once the four hours were upon them they would turn back towards the blue glow of the monastery lighthouse. Fanning out within sight of one another while zig zagging, to cover as much ground as possible, they would set at least thirty traps, each marked by hanging an autumn wreath nearby, preferably at eye level. When possible, his spider crew would do their best to forage for berries and nuts.
Dale set his own crew's sights much higher. Dale handed each of his little spiders a handheld crossbow and six bolts. Dale had the young spiders follow him along the forest all hushed as they tried their best to make as little noise as possible.
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For three hours the young spiders followed Dale. Nervous but determined, they kept in line. Something about Dale helped calm their nerves. Like a voice in their heads warning them not to talk when the urge came upon them; or, as their muscles began to ache, the little push that kept them moving forward.
Dale smiled through the straining effort of sharing his endurance with his newfound crew.
[Ay, this is what I miss. No bickering, no greed or envy to sour and spoil the plunder sure to come.]
Dale passed over a log and halted. Holding up a hand to stop the line behind him. He slowly stepped backwards, retracing his last few steps.
[Found ya’s, green skum]
Motioning for the young spiders to gather in a circle Dale pointed to the print in the mud. A single leaf pressed deep within a small footprint. The footprint only had four toes and sharp depressions near the tip of each.
“Goblins be abouts. Remembers what I’s tolds ya’s. Aim for their bellies and pull with you’s finger only when I’s say to do so.” Dale’s whispering words brought light to the task
The young spiders nervously looked at one another and nodded. Each held up their crossbows and readied their bolts. Most had only reloaded once the night before. They did not worry about being killed or eaten by goblins. They felt pressure to prove themselves to their captain. They felt the need to show him they could follow his orders. They could not imagine the punishment he would unleash on them if they failed.
Dale and his little spiders moved quietly along the trail of goblin tracks. Looking over his shoulder he smiled.
[Still have my Savage Command, never thought to try it on younglings. Should take more than one go at it to corrupt such pure minds.]
Twenty minutes later as his crew of young spiders followed behind he slowed to a stop and signaled to spread out.
The two youngest had their heads swiveling from one young crewmate and then to another, seeking help to understand, as their faces displayed absolute horror. The two could not grasp Dale’s signal to fan out.
Dale fed his ability offering to take from his greed and only take half a share of what was to be plundered. In return he sought to bolster his The Way of It ability. The understanding of the command and the task at hand drifted into the thoughts of his two youngest spiders.
The effort drained Dale further as his Savage Command ability wanted everything to be plundered and none to be shared. And so the young spiders began to feel their fears creep into the back of their thoughts as they finally began to take notice of the six goblins outside a burrow leading into a muddy hillside.
[Losing the wind, it’s now or naught]
Dale took a breath and aimed for the goblin he deemed most a threat. He fired and gave a mental nudge for his young spiders to do the same.
The crisp sound of his crossbow tension releasing was followed by a thwacking as the meanest looking goblin holding a Northern greataxe fell forward. An arrow in the goblins eye pushed deeper as he hit the ground face first.
Dale took a step out of hiding to give the remaining goblins a clear target. Reloading he noticed three of his young spider’s had aimed at the same target. Each hit some part of the goblin, but it was a wasted effort as the first to strike had hit the goblins neck, killing it.
[Not great. Much to be improved]
Dale never fired his second arrow. The goblins had started running towards him and as the goblins neared the remaining four younglings each let loose their bolts and found their mark.
A single goblin made it to Dale but had little energy to do more than fall to his knees as it stared at the children who pushed past the branches and leaves hiding them. The goblin gave Dale a confused look as it fell back landing with a thud.
“Ay, a perfect score! Sound crew is the lot of you. Now, waits outside for a moment while I’s takes a looks inside. Reload. Keeps’em lids open. Prepare you’self for more greens skum to pile out from forest any moment.” Dale said, entering the burrow.
Inside, Dale found two dozen weapons of human make and reasonable quality. A small woven basket contained Alioas flower petals, a key ingredient in the making of Al-runs juice. The drink was something between tea and potion. It could keep a man up for an entire night while providing him with an equal amount of stamina to do any tasks needed in that time. Any pirate would recognize it, one of the best ways to man a ship when losses had piled up. The only catch was that it gave you the runs for the next day, so clean drinking water became the new concern.
To the side of the burrow entrance, Dale noticed two half empty sacks of rice. The two youngest spiders were tasked with divvying out the weapons. The largest of his young spiders took the basket of Alioas flower petals while Dale carried the two sacks of grain.
Before they departed back to the monastery Dale had the young spiders strip the goblins of anything of use. When all was done he had them slice off a goblin ear each. They used their twine to loop the ears and wore it around their necks.
“To remember ya’s first raid” Dale said as he nodded approvingly at each of his young spiders.
Dale pushed the now slightly burdened and drained young spiders to their limits as he raced back. He wanted to put a fire in the bellies of the older spiders, he wanted to give them something to prove. He needed them to forget their woes and dedicate themselves to the tasks he set.