Chapter 15: Missing

Alanna swirled the bark-colored extract within its vial as she sat on her bed at the Adventurer’s Guild. She could tell there was a glowing core in there somewhere, as some of its light filtered through, but not much. She hoped that was just a peculiarity of Warg extracts and not an indication she messed something up in the brewing process.

She downed the vial. She felt her nose burn for a few minutes, but admittedly, it was less painful than some of the other extracts she had consumed so far. Pinching her nose shut seemed to alleviate the pain somewhat.

However, when the burning sensation stopped and she released her nose, she was not prepared for the onslaught of scents that struck her all at once. The strong herbal scents from Claire’s room, the scents of freshly cooked food and alcohol coming from the kitchen, as well as an overpowering smell of raw meat from storage and adventurers (both washed and unwashed) disorientated her severely, making it feel like things were both far away and far too close to her simultaneously. She fought the urge to fall over and retch as she pulled up her status screen.

“Lesser Scent Tracking: Your keen nose has a much greater ability to pick up on smells, and you have an easier time tracking them.”

“No wonder wargs hate people if their sense of smell is like this all the time,” Alanna thought. She gradually became able to push the scents overwhelming her to the back of her mind in an attempt to ignore them, but it was a constant effort. She hoped it would get easier with time.

She got back to the fireplace where she had set up her alchemy kit and grabbed the next vial she had prepared. It was the same as the first one, another warg extract. The sour smell of the acid and metallic reek of blood that came from it sent her into a fit of coughs, so she pinched her nose shut and downed it.

She waited… And waited. Minutes ticked by, but there was no physical reaction she could detect. She pulled up her status.

“Half-Rabbitfolk Peasant.

Level 4

Hitpoints: 35/35

Mana: 8/8

Strength: 15

Dexterity: 19

Constitution: 17

Intelligence: 13

Wisdom: 15

Charisma: 15

Experience: 9.6%.

Feats: [Good Runner (Racial)], [Great Hearing (Racial)], [Weather Reader (Class)], [Darkvision (Racial)], [Goblin Trapfinding (Racial)] [Plant Analyzer (Class)], [Animal Analyzer (Class)], [Tremorsense, Lesser (Racial)], [Enhanced Reflexes, Lesser (Mutation)], [Poison Resistance, Lesser (Racial)], [Alraune’s Pheromones, Lesser (Racial)], [Ambidextrous (Trait)], [Unicorn Immunity (Racial)], [Unicorn Magic, Locked (Racial)], [Lesser Scent Tracking [Racial])

Conditions: None”

There was immediately something off. She remembered her attributes clearly and none of them had changed, not after the first extract nor the second, and she hadn’t gained any more feats either. She took another warg extract and forced it down her, then watched her status screen. Nothing.

Giddy with delight at her discovery, she cracked open her handbook and began scribbling down notes. Solizzar had filled about half the handbook with all the knowledge he had regarding his new discovery and Alanna had no doubt that Solizzar intended for her to fill in the rest with whatever she managed to discover.

“Extracts appear to cease giving any attribute gains once the monster used in their creation were too weak to benefit the user. New feats also appear to be limited to whatever the monster can offer, so if the user already has whatever feats the monster could give the extract will no longer grant any new ones.”

She then took the remaining two extracts she had created and poured them onto the fire, dousing it and destroying the extracts simultaneously. She really didn’t need someone walking in here thinking they found some free potions, or something.

She then headed downstairs to meet Nywen, ready for their next quest. The catty Rogue was in the Adventurer’s Guild’s main hall, intently reading one of the notices she had pulled off of the quest board.

“Did you find another quest?” Alanna asked.

Nywen focussed her gaze on Alanna. “How good of a tracker would you say you are?”

Alanna blinked. She had to think about how to respond to that. “Well… I have a few feats that might help with that, but I can’t say I’ve ever actually tracked a monster through the woods or anything like that.” Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment at yet another admission of her inexperience.

Nywen nodded nonetheless. “That’s fine, I’ve got a good quest for you then. One of the border villages has had a few missing person’s cases. It’s nothing out of the ordinary, they just want us to find their missing people and bring them back, or find out what happened if we can’t. We get paid extra if we kill whatever’s responsible. That should be a good chance for you to practice.”

“Sounds good,” Alanna said with a smile. “Let’s get to it.”

Alanna and Nywen set out. This time they did not take the main road out of Wildbrook, instead following an old dirt road out into the wilderness. It was clearly off the beaten path, with no sign of the usual horsemen patrolling the roads. Alanna’s newfound sense of smell was much more of a gift out here in the woods than it was in town. She could smell the spring flowers blooming in the forest around her and the scent of fresh green vegetation rapidly ascending to its full height in the sun. The breeze brought the scent of pine from the western hills and Alanna found she had lost herself in experiencing all these new sensations. She looked up at the sky and guessed about an hour had passed without her even noticing.

“Why would anyone settle this far outside the walls?” Alanna asked, breaking the silence.

“I asked myself the opposite when I first came here,” Nywen said with a hint of melancholy in her voice. “I didn’t understand why so many people here hid behind walls their entire lives. My people wander the vastness of the desert, always.” She broke from her reverie. “Oh, but to answer your question, why do you think people want to get away from the walls in the first place?”

Alanna frowned slightly as she thought. Her thoughts wandered to the one complaint she would overhear peasants moving past the walls of the orphanage repeat over and over. “Landlords?”

“Landlords!” Nywen stated excitedly, clapping her hands. “Such an interesting concept, that you can just buy land and then own whoever lives on it. You wanna be a farmer? You get two choices: Do it safely behind the walls, if there’s any space to do so, and pay a hefty portion of your crops to your landlord, or do it beyond the walls and live in constant fear of monsters.”

Alanna raised her eyebrow at Nywen’s response, her curiosity rising. “Your people don’t do it like this?” she asked.

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“What’s there to farm in the desert?” Nywen asked with a chortle. “The desert tribes live off of the desert’s bounty as she grants it, and our families stick together. If you’re born an adventurer you’re expected to help take care of yours. Desert Rangers scout ahead and would guide us around monster nests, Druids would locate water sources, Sorcerers would just summon water from thin air! And of course, the Fighters ensured nobody got hurt if trouble did arise.”

“If adventurers have to look out for their tribe, how were you able to leave?” Alanna asked.

Nywen’s cheery demeanor faded immediately. “That’s… That’s complicated.”

“Oh,” Alanna said. An uncomfortable silence descended over the duo. Slowly, the scents of the blooming forest were being mixed with the smell of rotting, waterlogged wood. In the distance, a motte and bailey became visible. It was much smaller than even Wildbrook, clearly just a log wall surrounding a small town. Several plumes of chimney smoke were visible above the wall, as well the peak of a stone structure of some sort.

“I think we’re here,” Alanna stated. Nywen perked up somewhat seeing their goal in sight and hurried her step, Alanna following in her wake.

There were no guards outside the gate. Alanna tried pushing it open, but there was very little movement. The scent of humanoid habitation came from beyond the wall, prickling Alanna’s nose, though at least it wasn’t anywhere near as bad as Wildbrook.

“Hello? We’re from the Adventurer’s Guild,” Nywen called out. “We’re here to find your missing people.”

They heard some movement behind the gate when suddenly a thin slider was moved to reveal two green eyes set in wrinkled skin.

“You the adventurers we called for?”

“We sure are,” Nywen said confidently. “We’re here to take on your quest.”

The man slid the latch back in place. Nywen tilted her head in confusion before the sound of many bolts being undone on the other side started to ring out, followed by the heavy wooden gate sliding open.

The half-elven man who greeted them may have been strong and handsome back in his day, but time had not been kind to him. His hairs were gray and his back was hunched, he looked almost skin-and-bones, with pale, unhealthy skin. Unlike elves, who never lose the vigor or beauty of their youth until the day they pass, half-elves had much longer lifespans than their human parent but would inevitably age still.

“Finally! I know this may be a small town, but there are lives on the line all the same. The Guild should understand that by now,” the old man said in a shaky voice. He leaned heavily on a gnarled cane. “Name’s Illithor, I’m the mayor of this town. Come,” he said, ushering the duo inside and closing the gate behind them. He then waved for them to follow as he made his way towards the central keep.

The population of this town couldn’t be more than two score from what she could see, just hunters, lumberjacks and farmers with their families. One thing that stood out to her was how nigh-everyone here was armed with bows, axes or spears, something she hadn’t seen before among the peasantry of either Birchhaven or Wildbrook. It didn’t take her long to figure out the reason, far away from any guards or adventurers to protect them these people had to fend for themselves.

Illithor paid them no heed, hobbling along. Alanna suspected nobody bothered them because the old man was guiding them, otherwise they’d probably get more than just a few stares.

“Grandfather, who are these strangers?” a voice called from a distance. Alanna turned and saw a young elven woman carrying a woven basket of fresh laundry, running rapidly towards them. “You know you aren’t supposed to be out of bed!” she yelled at the old elf, who did not even flinch, merely continuing to hobble on his way to the keep.

“Enough, Rumi,” he said dismissively. “I am still mayor of this town! Who will watch the gate if not me, hm? I can’t just be on my back all day.”

The younger elf looked apologetically at Alanna. Her long auburn hair was unusual among elves, who gravitated towards white, black or perhaps blond hair, and Alanna figured it was because of the woman’s grandfather. Humans and orcs could mix with any race, but human half-breeds like herself bore the name of the non-human parent. When those half-breeds then proceeded to have children with one of the two parent races it would produce either more half-breeds or more of the full-blooded parent’s race. Alanna always wondered why the blood didn’t just continue to be mixed all the way down, but she did know certain traits could be carried on, such as unusual hair colors for a race.

The young woman saw Alanna stare and she bowed. “I am so sorry about my grandfather. He has been ill for about a week but refuses to take any rest! He’s the only level three peasant in town, so he has been a tremendous help in making sure our crops have remained healthy and bountiful, but he always pushes himself too hard! I hope he hasn’t been bothering you, we don’t get guests out here often.”

Alanna smiled. “Don’t worry, we’re the adventurers the town sent for.”

“That I sent for!” Illithor said.

“That Illithor sent for,” Alanna corrected. “We’re here to help you find your missing people.”

“We’re so grateful you showed up,” Rumi said. “We haven’t seen Erlathan or Veefra in days. We sent out search parties, but we can only venture so far out of town. Not like you adventurers.”

The group continued on their way with Rumi accompanying them. Farthest from the gate was the most solid building in town, a small keep. The masonry was unfamiliar to Alanna, though she got the vague impression of dwarven handiwork. The walls were made of thick stone and the double doors of solid iron. Though rusty, they opened with little effort from the old man, creaking as they swung. The area within was used as storage by the town, with barrels of food, hides or other goods stored in neat stacks, but this was clearly meant as a shelter of some sort. Alanna figured the idea was the same as that of the walled cities of the world: If the outer walls risked falling everyone would retreat into this inner keep, which most creatures wouldn’t be able to break into. Then they would just hide inside, hoping the monsters outside would lose interest.

Illithor walked up to a large table in the center of the keep. He bowed down onto one knee, reaching into a crate, taking out a rolled piece of parchment, which he unfurled onto the table. He blew the dust off of it. It was a map of the surrounding area. To the south-west was the dirt road that Alanna and Nywen had followed to reach the town, to the west and north were more woods, and to the east and south were vague drawings of the swamp.

“Everyone who lives here knows the area like the back of their hand, but when you hear a hungry troll stomping around nearby you could end up fleeing to hide further away from town than you may like. I’d recommend looking here.” Illithor pointed a gnarled finger at the northern woods. “There’s all kinds of hiding places there, old hollow trees, caves set in the northern hills…”

Rumi made eye-contact with Alanna. The slight frown on Rumi’s face signaled to Alanna that Rumi had issues with her grandfather’s reasoning.

“Grandfather, Veefra went to gather chokeberries in the swamp to the east, remember?” she said, pointing at a place that was clearly deeper into the poorly-charted parts of the map with a slender finger. “This is where she would have gone. And Erlathan went to fetch her when she didn’t return by nightfall. They’d have no reason to be in the northern woods.”

“Of course I remember!” the old man responded with irritation. “I’ve lived in these lands since I was but a young lad. If you’re getting chased by something, you run out of the swamp, not further in. If you can’t run towards town then the only smart direction to run is north. That’s just the way it is.” The intensity of his argument made him break into a fit of coughs, Rumi helping him clear his airways by padding him on his back. She ended up having to fetch him a stool, despite his protests.

There was clearly some disagreement between those two, and Alanna wasn’t sure who to believe. Illithor was clearly the most experienced, but his health was less than stellar and he seemed as stubborn as a mule. If he was wrong she doubted he’d admit it easily. Especially in this cramped environment she could smell the man’s sickness. His sweat smelled sour, like someone who couldn’t stop overheating in their own bed while trying to fall asleep, and the vague scent of blood clung to him.

Meanwhile, Rumi carried an invigorating, flowery scent. It clung to her like a perfume and Alanna wondered where she could have gotten the ingredients for it out here in the wilds.

“Don’t worry, we’ll find them!” Nywen said, puffing up her chest. “They can’t have gone far, and if something chased them into a cave or tree we’ll take it down so it won’t bother your town anymore.”

“We really appreciate the help, miss…” Rumi said questioningly.

“I’m Nywen of the Desert Catfolk,” she said with a slight bow. “This is Alanna.”

Illithor scratched his chin as he looked the two up and down. “May I ask what Class you both have? If you don’t mind me asking. I’d just like to know exactly who we hired and what you’re capable of.”

“I’m a Rogue,” Nywen said, almost as a reflex, but Alanna remained silent. She found her tongue frozen when the question was uttered. Every time she brought up her Class it ended up being nothing but trouble, and she didn’t want to ruin this quest by giving these people a reason to mistrust her abilities. Still, she had trouble lying about it.

“She’s a Ranger, new to the profession,” Nywen said, taking the choice away from Alanna. Despite hating she was now an accomplice in a lie, she breathed a sigh of relief. Nywen put her arm around Alanna’s shoulder, smiling brightly. “I already taught her everything I know. We’ll set out in an hour after we’ve had a chance to rest.”