Chapter 31 — The Blue Raptor Tavern

When Toren and the Hatterwicks left sated by an early breakfast of eggs and leftovers the morning following the insisted day of intensive training, it was with four new members to their stead. A breeding pair of adult horror hounds and a second pair of just-weaned pups. The female of the breeding pair was the one that had taken to Falma during the walk from town. The male was carefully selected for his loyalty and sensitivity to mana.

Marton’s eldest boys, and two squads of horror hounds were joining them as agreed, eager for the adventure. As on the way to Marton’s stead accompanying Joric, traveling in a group surrounded by hounds made the trip much safer than expected. The zoots that slunk around to investigate possible easy pickings were quickly routed, and in the view of Toren’s [Mana Sensing], mostly they fled deeper into the jungle at the sound of the hounds.

According to Marton the hounds weren’t native to the Corvast Jungle but imported from a volcanic region in the shadow of a floating continent where the locals raised them to protect villages from shadowbeasts and nobles from assassins. Even so, Toren observed that the zoots were beginning to recognize the hounds as threats to stay away from—a welcome sight when considering the limited numbers he would have guarding his stead once Harthol and Korta finished helping him clear the place.

The morning wore on, and the group pressed hard in hopes of reaching the orchard while Horevi still lit the skies above and the jungle below. Occasionally, narrower berms also topped with cobble met up with the main cobbleway. Harthol and Kort were quick to talk about the neighbors that lived at the nearby steads and how most of the boys around the area chose to become [Hunters] rather than [Farmers] for the quick levels that hunting provided.

When Korta brought up the topic of the Silent Hawk Lodge not far past Levish’s tavi orchard that many of the tier-1 [Hunters] operated out of, Toren participated in the conversation with interest, querying about how the lodge worked.

“Unless Old Gerdim bans you, the lodge is open to all hunting the jungles,” Korta answered. “He does charge for services, but his prices are reasonable. It’s one of the few places nearby where we can buy supplies, buy and sell meat and pelts and such from our hunts, swap information about hunting spots and threats, and organize hunts for tier-2 monsters. There’s a mission board there too for earning credits.”

“Bans, huh… Are there any individual [Hunters] or groups in the area that we should be wary of?” Toren asked.

Korta shrugged. “Steader types tend to look out for each other, so it’s not too bad.”

“The noble brats are the ones better avoided,” Horthal volunteered, bow in hand with a forefinger holding an arrow nocked as he actively scanned the mix of broadleaf trees around them for threats. “Who knows what they’ll do when bored, irritated, or looking to be offended out here in the jungle where no one is watching them.”

“[Hunter] Revos, maybe?” Korta offered to the original query, having thought of a name while his brother was talking. “They say he’s mean as a wyvern and twice as dangerous.”

Horthal grimaced. “Tall and lanky, always wearing a tattered dark hooded cloak, pale skin, dark hair and beard. Came across his camp once. His aura was intense even when just sitting there stirring a pot over a small fire. Traded him some onions and seasoning for a bowl of the stew he was cooking. Figured best to be friendly just in case, ya know? Didn’t seem to want to talk much.”

“Yeah, better distant but friendly with a guy like that,” Korta agreed.

Toren made a noncommittal hum as acknowledgment for the answers. If that was all the danger from other people that the brothers could think up, leaving the town was sounding more and more like the right decision.

The rapid clickity-clack thump-thump sounds of clawed strides on cobble again prompted them to make way in time for a pair of raptor riders to speed past.

Not much later, the source—or at least, one of the sources—of the raptor mounts that others had been using to rapidly travel the local roads came into view around mid-morning settled around a location where the cobbleway branched. The large tract of above-flood-height land around a branching of the cobbleway had been cleared and made into fenced pastures holding a good number of mostly blue raptors. Past the split, a row of unoccupied wagon tie-offs and a handful of wood and stone buildings stood out as testament to civilization carving its presence into the jungle, one building clearly livelier than the rest.

“Blue Raptor Tavern and Ranch,” Korta cheerily informed them and motioned toward the northward road. “That’s the road we want, heading toward the settlement of Mistmire.”

“Where does the road we’re currently on go?” Falma spoke up, curiosity in her voice.

Korta grinned at Falma’s enthusiasm. “Deeper into the jungle and eventually to the outposts being built to secure the land against the Ith’zi tribes.”

“Ith‘zi?” Laiya followed up, resting her spear over her armored shoulder and relaxing some now that there was fenced pasture between the group and the treeline.

“Yep. Native lizardmen with settlements of their own in the jungle depths.”

“No doubt unhappy about humans encroaching their territory,” Warnel groaned. “Are raids and attacks something we need to worry about?”

“We’ve never met any,” Korta offered with a shrug and looked to his brother for confirmation.

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“There’s rumors of sightings sometimes.” Horthal also shrugged. “I hear the raids attacking the steads near the outposts can get bad sometimes.”

Korta and Horthal called the free-ranging hounds over to one of the wagon tie-offs together with the hounds pulling the pair of hunting sleds each brother had brought along.

“I’ll stay outside with the hounds,” Horthal volunteered as he opened a sack of jerky and began rewarding the barking mass of excited faceless horrors. “You all should rest and take an early lunch. You, too, Falma. I’ll watch over your pair and the pups.”

“Ah, thanks, Horthal.” Falma gave him a smile. “Should we leave our backpacks here, too?”

“Yep. No one is getting past Pouncer and his hound-pack,” the eldest brother confirmed.

“Thank the gods!” Warnel exclaimed in relief after a confirming nod from Toren, promptly shedding his heavy travelpack along with the rest of their group—to amused chuckles from the brothers.

They had reached their first planned—and hopefully only—stop for the day, not counting brief breaks to rest or dress the zoot kills.

Toren kept his senses sharp and his [Danger Sensing] firmly in mind as Korta led the group toward the tavern’s entrance, chatting up Falma and Laiya about the drinks and food usually on offer. The surprising number of saddled raptors tied to hitching posts at the front of the tavern suggested the place was a lot busier than he would have preferred. If the Conclave’s reach extended outside the town’s walls…

He turned to Emina. “You and the girls should stow your helmets now, so you don’t have to take them off to eat and can keep your cloaks covering you as much as possible while we’re in there. We don’t want to draw too much attention.”

Emina seemed to be thinking something similar and called her daughters back to have a chat of her own with them.

“Thank the gods, there’s a place to stop and rest out here—maybe even trade,” Warnel muttered, shoulders slumping and feet dragging from hours of tense walking in the humid jungle only made worse by the padded armor and travel packs.

“With the number of saddled mounts here, I wonder if they are more affordable than expected?” Toren pointed out to his haggler-in-chief, whose eyes widened upon noticing.

“Not just for purchase,” Korta interjected, motioning to the pens. “Rentals. Renting a raptor is much more affordable. Fast, tough, and the bigger ones can pull wagons if needed. Though, you’re still probably better off using orrogs for heavy loads.”

That meant reaching town from their stead and getting back before nightfall was actually doable. Toren had worried about how Falma would be able to return to town to work for the [Alchemist]. Whether this was a solution or not would depend on price.

~~~

『Name: Toren of Theravos

Race: Human

Age: 20

Profession 1: Level 2 Burningblood Berserker (1700/3000)

Mana: 26/29

Strength: 16

Constitution: 12

Dexterity: 14

Agility: 12

Wisdom: 12

Intellect: 8

Will Power: 17

Perception 14

Appearance: 8

Charisma: 8

Luck: 10

Attribute Upgrade Points: 1

Traits:

Sacrificial Guardian

Abilities:

Burning Blood (Rank 1) Proficiency: Low

Slow Bleeding (Rank 1) Proficiency: Low

Ability Upgrade Points: 1

Profession Skills:

Pain Tolerance 4

Severe Wound Recovery 3

Berserker Knife Arts 1

Spear 9

Club 8

Combat Awareness 3

Intimidate 2

Skills:

Theravos Language (Speaking) 15

Theravos Language (Reading/Writing) 10

Religion 10

Meditation 5

Bone Strengthening 3

Hunting 20

Butchering 13

Archery 19

Stealth 17

Arithmetic 4

Foraging 16

Tree Felling 6

Running 12

Mana Sensing 14

Danger Sense 1

Wound Binding 8』