Stan and Lucas broke camp the next day. Lucas had completely worked through the area surrounding the pond. Stan had debated going back after Lucas' incident in the pond but decided to follow through with his initial plans. He felt that Lucas’ curiosity was sufficiently cowed that he didn’t need to worry about his son disregarding his instructions again.
As they headed west, following game trails and ridges for the most part, Lucas continued to scour the ground for herbs from his list. As he worked, he remained abnormally solemn. The near-death experience and being chewed out by his father had had quite an impact on him. The constant headache accompanied by draining his mana pool completely as soon as he could use his [Combat Focus] ability may have had something to do with it. His red hair was matted to his head and his blue eyes, normally shining with an inner light of playful curiosity, were somewhat dimmer.
Mr. Snugglepuss wasn’t doing any better. Multiple days in the harness with it only coming off at night for Lucas to clean and oil it had rubbed certain spots raw. That morning, as he was putting the harness on his cat, his father had given Lucas an ointment to apply. His pet didn’t fight him as much when he placed the harness back on with some padding in the areas where the soothing ointment had gone.
They worked their way slowly through the forest, making decent time. The plan was to stay out for three weeks. Randolph felt that this would allow Lucas to encounter enough different varieties of herbs that he would be guaranteed the [Herb Lore] skill. Lucas ate jerky and sipped from his canteen for lunch, but they never stopped moving until the sun was riding low in the western sky. There was still some daylight left, but it was becoming gloomy under the dense canopy. Lucas was having more and more trouble finding plants to “attempt” to gather. His multiple pockets were remarkably bare for the amount of herbs he had gathered. Most of what he had picked up in their stay so far had not been viable, so Lucas had been forced to dispose of it. Some of it was basic herbs or vegetables that could be cooked, and Stan had relieved him of those each night when he prepared supper.
Lucas was on the verge of asking his father when they were going to stop when he noticed that his father had stopped moving forward. Stan was looking at a tree in the path with an odd tilt to his head. He then took two steps back, grabbed Lucas by the shoulder, and began moving back down the trail at a brisk pace. Lucas was scared but didn’t say anything. After twenty minutes, Stan had to pick his son up and carry him the rest of the way. They diverged from the path they had made in the forest and came out near a stream, possibly the same one that had left the pond where they were at.
“Take care of your cat,” said Stan as he set his son down. “I’ll start putting together dinner. No tents tonight, just bedrolls. We won’t be staying here any longer than we have to.”
“What happened, dad?” asked Lucas.
“Did you see that tree in the middle of the game trail?”
“Yes,” replied Lucas.
“How many trees have been dead center in the middle of any of the game trails that we’ve followed?” his dad inquired.
Lucas thought for a second and then replied, “That was the only one.”
“This is a beast range, son,” his father stated. “Anything out of the ordinary is dangerous. Animals just don’t run into trees. If a game trail moves to a spot and suddenly stops, something made the animal stop. The tree was a normal oak. Nothin’ abnormal about it. If I had to guess, I’d say there’s a bloodvine in there somewhere. You know what that is?”
Lucas didn’t have to think hard before nodding his head, it was one of the plants that was in his book. The bloodvine lived on another plant, generally a tree, and blended in with the foliage. It wasn’t sapient but let off a scent that reduced perception and attracted animals. Once something was close enough, it latched on with suckers like a leach and began to drain the victim dry while delivering a toxin that numbed and sedated the animal. It was rare for any creature to escape a bloodvine.
“This should be far enough,” Stan said. “You’re gonna’ have to keep your pet in the harness tonight and keep him leashed to you. I’ll have you tied to me, just in case.” Without another word he turned and began to lay a fire. Lucas sat in a fairly open spot and removed Mr. Snugglepuss’ harness and began applying the ointment. The areas that the harness had rubbed raw were already healing and the hair under the padding actually looked healthier than the other areas. With a judicious application of the spicy smelling ointment, he finished taking care of his pet and quickly got him back in the harness before he could escape. Lucas then fished a piece of rope out of his bag and tied it through one of the rings of the harness and around his own waist.
“Can’t risk you getting eaten by a bloodvine, Mr. Snugglepuss,” he said to his cat with a quiet voice.
He then began setting up his bedroll. Almost by reflex, he noticed that his mana was back to full and he activated his [Combat Focus]. The effect since reaching level two was far more pronounced. The world seemed to immediately drop into slow motion for a full four seconds. Sounds became lower pitched and seemed to be from farther away. Even the rustling of the leaves in the forest took on a darker, more ominous tone. Luckily, the effect only lasted for a brief moment before Lucas’ mana pool was empty once again. The persistent headache had had the additional effect of leveling his pain resistance one more time, which had saved Lucas from having to do it manually. He could still feel the headache, but the pain was dulled and he was able to focus on finding his plants a little bit better.
They made it through the night without incident, but Lucas was unable to sleep peacefully knowing that his friend or his dad might get up in the middle of the night and wander into the deathly embrace of the predatory plant. The chances of that happening were one in a million, but Lucas didn’t know that.
The next day, Stan led Lucas around the area that was claimed by the bloodvine and the continued southeast into the beast range. By midafternoon Lucas had identified half a dozen new plants and summarily destroyed five of them attempting to gather them. The forest was denser this deep into the beast range, with mana levels rising as the pair progressed farther into the explored zone.
“Dad,” said Lucas as they moved towards a ridge that Stan had pointed out as their main camp for the remainder of the trip. They were only a couple of hours away, and Lucas hadn’t seen any plants that he could gather for a few minutes now.
“What do you need, son?” his father asked.
“How deep are we going into the beast range? Will we see any big monsters?”
“Not deep at all, son,” Stan said with a laugh. “It takes two weeks of hard traveling to get to the edge of the deep forest. We’re about the middle of what people like to call the safe zone. Beasts don’t get too big here and there’s rarely anything in the second tier, let alone a third tier monster like a wyvern. That one that your grandpa killed was old and he’d been driven from the deep range. There’s a river that flows down from deep in the range, brings mana rich water out of the range and mixes with the Atrondul down south of the border.” As Stan talked, he continued to walk along the trail and scan for any threats. His [Perception] was high enough that there wasn’t much that could catch him by surprise in the safe zone.
“So, do you hunt in the deep range?” his son asked.
“No, that’s what got your grandpa.”
“What do you mean?” asked Lucas. It was rare for his father to talk about his own parents at any length. He heard the occasional story, like with the wyvern, but not much more.
“He felt like there wasn’t much of a challenge left in the safe zone and decided that, with ma dead, he didn’t have any reason to stay.” Stan replied. “Left me the homestead and went into the deep range ‘bout fifteen years ago. I ain’t seen him since, he’s probably dead n’ gone now.” There was sadness in his voice, but it was old. Stan had long since finished grieving his father and knew that, if he somehow outlived his own wife, he’d probably do the same one day. Every time he went to the edge of the deep range he felt the call of the unknown. Only his duty to his family and his love for his wife kept him from moving deep into the unexplored wilderness to see just what was on the other side of that boundary.
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They didn’t talk much more as they progressed and soon Lucas was introduced to a wonderful sight. The pond that was their first camp was pretty, but somewhat dull. After the initial excitement of being in the beast range wore off, it was just like any other pond. Albeit with man eating, three eyed frogs. In front of Lucas was a beautiful site. The small tributary of the river that his father talked about flowed over a rocky ridge, making a small waterfall of about three meters in height. Just enough to churn the water on the rocks below and keep the water clean and fresh. The little river was only fifteen or twenty meters across, but the water was relatively clear and Lucas could see the river bed on the other side. On the west side of the bank that Lucas and his father stood on and far enough from the falls to not have to worry about excess moisture was a small recess in the rocky ridge. It wasn’t a deep cave, but it was recessed enough to keep the worst of the wind and weather out and there were some small metal rings embedded just inside the roof and around the entrance.
Achievement Unlocked!
Explorer
You have discovered Grant’s Grotto. This is the favorite spot of famous adventurer Grant “Firefist” Hunter, who once fought a mighty battle at the base of the waterfall. You are the third human to visit this location of note in the Western Continent Beast Range. You will receive bonus experience for visiting this location.
Current progress to Explorer title: 1/5 locations visited
(Experience rewards for achievements deferred until full System Access is acquired)
Lucas didn’t say anything to his father, he just stared around camp in wonder at the fact that he was only the third person to ever come to this spot. It must have been a pretty important spot to his grandfather for the system to name it and create an achievement for finding it.
“Go ahead and set your stuff down and go gather some firewood back along the trail. If you can’t hear the falls, your too far away. I’m gonna’ to set up camp,” said Stan, knowing what his son was likely seeing and not saying anything about it. “This is where we’ll be for the next couple of weeks.”
“But what if there’s another bloodvine?” Lucas asked his father.
“Don’t worry, son, those are rare and I scanned enough of the trail to know that there’s not much danger back the way we came,” replied Stan.
Lucas did as his father asked and moved back along the trail. He had Mr. Snugglepuss move out to a preset distance and follow. Eventually, he would train the cat to range in front and to both sides, looking for signs and acting as a scout with his greater [Perception] and natural woodcraft. Once he reached a reasonable distance he started scavenging for downed branches and wood of the appropriate size. Ideally, he’d find a downed tree that was in decent condition that they could trim some branches from to get their firewood for the stay in easy to carry segments.
It took about an hour to gather the firewood needed, making multiple trips with small bundles carried by himself and his pet’s handy harness. By the time they returned to camp with the last load, Stan had managed to secure one of the tents to the recess by way of the rings. This made something like a lean-to against the front of the cave entrance. A quick dinner of dried meat in a stew of wild onions and tubers was followed by their first night in his grandfather’s camp.
Over the next week, Stan and Lucas searched for herbs on both sides of the river within a half day’s walk of the camp. They were working their way along the east bank as the sun was working its way up to the middle of the sky when Lucas noticed his father coming out of the brush. Lucas finished placing the herb, a successful harvest, into one of the packs that his void cat carried attached to his harness.
When he turned back around to ask his father if they were stopping for lunch he noticed the blood splashed on his father’s leather vambrace. He waited until his father was closer instead of yelling out as he had planned. When Stan got to Lucas he pulled something from inside his vest and knelt down next to Lucas.
“There’s gobs near here, small splinter clan if I had to guess. See this?” he asked as he pulled displayed the torn, pointed ear he held in his hand. “Only one piercing on the leader of a squad. Normally they’ll have three or four piercings before they can get enough other gobs to follow ‘em. Guessin’ their clan had a hard spell this winter and kicked ‘em out,” Stan paused for a moment to put the ear away and take a drink from his canteen. “I’m sorry, son, we can’t leave ‘em to multiply or it’ll be too late. It’s spring and they are in an area without any big predators. Give ‘em two months and there’ll be close to a thousand of the damn things runnin’ around. That’ll draw bigger beasts to the area to eat the gobs, n’ lead to an increase in beasts and monsters in this area. The result would be a horde that would eventually spill out of the beast range. I’ll get you home n’ come back to clear ‘em out.”
Lucas just stared at his dad for a minute before answering. “Dad, if you can clear them out yourself, can’t you do it while I’m in camp? Then I can finish getting my skill and we can go home.”
“Too risky. I’d have to leave you back in camp alone and it’ll take me a couple of days to scout ‘em out properly. I can’t leave you alone for two days, there wouldn’t be anything left of the forest.”
“Can I just come with you?” Lucas asked.
“No, it’s too dangerous. You have skills, but not the ones you’d need to keep up with me in the dense brush away from the river and stay hidden from gobs and other things. Now, that’s enough. No lunch today, we need to get back to camp. We’ll pack up, stay the night, and had back to the pond in the morning,” Stan said with finality.
They began to make their way back upriver to the crossing. It took a couple of hours, but they eventually arrived at the best place to cross the small but dangerous river. Spanning from one bank to the other was the remainder of a massive tree. Stan had told Lucas about how his father had found the tree almost exactly the same as today and had purchased a spell to [Petrify] the ancient tree. A little work on either end to set it permanently and they had a safe bridge across the river and deeper into the beast range without having to go to either the bridge to the north or the ford across the border to the south.
As they came into the small clearing where the end of the tree was secured to the ground, Stan stopped and quickly placed a hand out behind him to stop his son. Lucas didn’t say anything, but he immediately began searching for whatever had startled his father. Without a work, Stan motioned Lucas to stay where he was and melted into the growth at the side of the small trail they were following.
After a few moments there was a yell from the other side of the clearing, and a small humanoid, only slightly taller than Lucas’ four-foot height. The gob, that’s what Lucas assumed it was, had brown, leathery skin covered in dirt and filth. His nose was long and sharp, and he had two tusks sticking out from his lower jaw over his upper lip. He was bald and had two big, leathery ears flopping around as he ran out of the forest towards the bridge. The gob’s dirty jerkin was torn and ragged and flapped behind him as he flew towards the perceived safety of the river crossing.
Out of the forest flew an arrow that took the terror stricken goblinoid at the base of the skull. He immediately fell, tripping over his big feet and lay twitching on the ground. Lucas didn’t say anything, but he quickly placed a hand on the hilt of his rapier. A few seconds later his father came running out of the clearing after his arrow.
“Quickly! Cross the bridge, Son!,” he yelled out. He got to the bridge and knocked an arrow to his bow, waiting for the unseen threat to come out of the forest behind him. “The whole damn band must be migrating south.”
Lucas hesitated for only a second before sprinting the fifteen or so meters to the end of the tree trunk bridge. With only a guide rope to help keep him steady on the still slightly rounded tree trunk, he began to cross over the quick flowing river below. A yell from behind grabbed his attention and Lucas paused in his trek to look back. His father was releasing an arrow from his bow and must have been using a skill to fire because in the short distance between his father and the edge of the woods there were already two other arrows in flight. Laying on the ground at the edge of the clearing were two new dead gob bodies, each as dirty and ragged as the first, with arrows embedded in their chests.
The lack of attention to his footing cost Lucas dearly. A thrown spear from the forest passed his father with meters to spare, but it headed dangerously close to Lucas. Lucas, responding instinctively attempted to step sideways and put some distance between himself and the dangerous spear. There was a brief moment of wrongness where Lucas’ feet didn’t want to go to the place where he had imagined them. Instead of the slick but steady trunk of the tree his left foot had caught on a nub of a branch. With the loss of balance and his poor positioning, he fell, putting all of his weight on the old, waterdamaged rope.
There was a moment, the longest moment Lucas had ever experienced outside of his [Combat Focus] where he knew exactly what was coming. His father looked on, eyes widening in terror, the first time Lucas had ever seen his father scared. When the rope gave, there wasn’t a sound, just a sudden loss of tension. There should have been a snap. Lucas thought to himself as his head went below water. That was his last thought as his head struck a log and blackness consumed him.