After leaving, I went to find the girls I’d seen during the emergency meeting. At every barn I stopped where Big Tree people lived, people would shake my hand and thank me. I was even more popular than Elfindor because of what I did. At barn #4, I spotted the first babe. A short, busty brunette who reminded me of an old flame, only sexier. After shaking a lot of hands there, I asked to borrow someone whom I could bring to introduce me to the other Big Tree villagers, as I wanted to get to know everyone personally.
“You, miss. You seem like you could do the job. Would you mind?” I pointed and asked her.
Someone who looked like her father nodded and nudged her to step forward.
“No, of course not, Mr. Alster.”
Of course, the whole thing was an excuse, and I used every trick in the book to get her to open up. I started with a corny joke to lower her guard around me and stop calling me mister. She was around my age, so it felt weird. Her name was Maricia. Her favorite food was bananas with honey drizzled over it, she had a cat named Mr. Whiskers that died tragically, she was an only child and living with her father after her mother passed away. What a coincidence. Me too.
That common connection was the key to getting her to open up. I gently put a hand on her shoulder and asked if she ever needed anything, I’d be there for her. She thanked me and smiled a smile that melted my heart.
“I’d love to introduce you to my fiancé Chase. He also came with us, and I know you two would get along. He—”
Ugh.
I stopped listening. Of course she’s taken. Bet 100 dollars it was a childhood friend. You don’t let a beauty like that escape your grasp if you can help it. We continued walking toward barn #5, with me nodding and laughing half-heartedly.
There we found beauty #2, a beach blonde with delicate features and a slim, curvy body. Solid wife material. I’ll take it. I again shook a lot of hands and got a few important names. Beauty #2 was named Elise. She introduced her long-term boyfriend, who had been eager to meet me and potentially secure a good job here in the village.
Damn it!
By the time I left with Maricia, I was exhausted.
“Is something wrong, Alster?”
“Oh, just… talking this much is exhausting.”
She giggled. “I’m sure. But you have a talent for it.”
I walked her back to barn #4 and left. There was only one beauty left to scout and I was demoralized. I mean, what if she was taken, too? I shuddered at the thought and decided to just scout people to work for Ernie and call it a day.
“Not him.”
He pointed at people like they were defective pieces of junk, right in front of them. As soon as I brought them in, he gave them a pair of shears and had them each cut out a square palm-sized section of one sheep for him to judge.
“Not her.”
Ernie was a tough critic. He shot down all but two potential workers I brought in (twelve). The only candidates remaining were two women who were single and childless. Without husbands to provide for them, they had to work and do whatever they could, so needless to say they were extremely thankful for the opportunity. Ernie said he would provide meals, and Ernie was one of the few people in the village with access to meat on the regular so the offer carried even more weight.
“Mr, Alster. Thank you as well!” the first woman said. She wore a loose blue dress with seams ripped, showing age. She graciously hugged me. The other woman did the same.
Look at me, doing good things for this village and getting thanked. But this wasn’t the thanks I wanted.
I’m just as exhausted as before and still not living the life I want.
I wanted to leave the village—explore new options.
I crawled my way back to Trent’s house, practically dropping to my knees from emotional exhaustion at the doorstep with just enough energy to knock. Granny Eleonore helped me up. That old girl was strong for her age.
“Oh, Master Alster, you’re back,” Matilda said, stuck in Trent’s embrace.
“Welcome home, son. You look beat. I take it your date didn’t go well?” he teased.
I shot him a dry look. Look at him. Arms all over a pretty girl.
I was jealous.
“No, it didn’t go well, Father. Because there was no date. She shot me down.”
Matilda was released from Trent’s embrace and walked over, putting a hand on my cheek like a mother. “There will be other girls, Master Alster.”
With that said, I excused myself to sulk in my room in peace.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
Before going to bed, I realized I had forgotten to restock the meat I’d eaten earlier. It was a good thing I was a heartbroken boy in their eyes, so no one brought it up.
Today sucks.
* * *
The days rolled by. Before we knew it, it was time for the first hunt.
The people of Big Tree spent the last two days of the week scrounging for the best weapons for their men. A group of fifty of the most capable men over eighteen as well as twenty in reserves were selected. I convinced Trent to let me and the chief join the expedition. My reasoning was that we would hang back and watch the performance of the villagers. We’d see how they hunted, where, and if they managed to bring back meat, whether they had just been lucky.
Trent had strong reservations, but Elfindor also said it would help to know where good hunting grounds were. That way we could produce our own hunting crew if Big Tree failed. It was useful to scope out the place. Not to mention, if Big Tree did hunt down monsters, their importance would skyrocket. A lot of farms might trade things they grew at a big loss just to get their hands on meat, especially if they only brought back small amounts, since we were already promised half of their catches. This measure would prevent that.
Traditionally, Little Rock had kept to themselves as a mid-size farming village. This was a chance to expand.
Trent still didn’t like it but eventually gave us the OK. When Big Tree found out Elfindor and I would be joining, it got them even more pumped.
On the first day of the third week since Big Tree joined us, the huntsmen woke up before dawn for an emergency meeting. They sharpened the spears they’d made with rocks and tested the wooden shields we’d been able to get. It was nothing fancy, just a round piece of unpolished wood with the bark still on the outside and a handle to grab. And the spears were just long poles with iron arrowheads fixed to them with special knots. That was all the gear we could make in such a short time. They had to hunt with clothes.
So we’re supposed to be hunting animals but monsters will get in the way, is that it? Will this gear be enough?
Still, a sense of excitement spread through muffled voices whispering as the chief’s assistants took up a podium.
Elfindor started speaking and people looked up to listen. It was a speech like if a king were sending men to war. At the end he said something about failure not being an option and that their families expected results to survive.
“Hunt like your life depends on it!”
Village war cries filled the air.
* * *
We marched north for four hours until it was almost afternoon. The sun was overbearing as usual, and the men were starting to fatigue and walk slowly. Some people complained about blisters in their feet. But most complained about being thirsty. I kept myself hydrated by hanging in the back and occasionally taking a sip of card water and splashing some on my face so I couldn’t relate. Elfindor eventually noticed what I was doing and asked for some, too.
We had packed lightly. As in, just the gear and clothes on our backs. No water, no food, no other supplies. Why? Because someone in Big Tree joked he’d run into a monster so they had to be close by. A friend of his chimed in on que with, “I saw it too! Oh, wait it was just your mother!”
But mostly it was because Elfindor said the first day should be for just scouting, since we had no clear destination. If we found even a single monster, we’d make a note and hurry back with haste.
The forests beyond the village were thick and rivers, mountains, large hills, ravines, and large ditches covered the land. There was a cleared trail of cobblestone leading to the nearest town, Lord Fuoril’s city. But obviously there would be few around there. Or even close by us, as one of the lord’s duties was keeping the monster population around the entire domain to a minimum.
We saluted and bowed every time we passed by a Holy Knight on horseback, who were still searching for the bandits terrorizing villages. We were stopped three times by three different groups, but they didn’t bother searching us with so many of us saying we were just trying to find some hunting grounds. Their lie detector cards must’ve been picking up a lot of truth signals. The third time, after we gave our usual explanation, they simply laughed and called us fools.
“Do yourselves a favor and leave that to adventurers. Novices will just end up corpses.”
Jerks.
I watched them take off. I’d been tempted to create a pool of water right above them.
“They’re not always like this,” one of the big tree guys said.
“Yeah, they must be under a lot of pressure to find those bandits.”
We also saw people in armor and weapons without the crests of the margrave occasionally scouting. Big Tree said they had to be adventurers. People with skills in monster extermination, licensed by a large organization called the Adventurer’s Guild. The job was in high demand and had a high death rate because very few people had the balls to risk their lives every day and the skills to make a regular income out of it.
“Pst. Elfindor,” I said, pointing to a group of three in a party. An armored person with a large greatsword, an archer with a bow and quiver on his back, and a dual dagger wielder in hard leather.
“What?”
“Maybe we should check out that Adventurer’s Guild later. We can ask info about monsters and how often they drop spellcards.”
“Yeah, good idea. I know where it is. I saw it last time I went with Trent to see the lord.”
At the four hour mark, we were finally out of Lord Fuoril’s territory.
The land was pretty barren. The dirt was course, turning to sand at some point. Sheer mountains of the stuff made it harder to make progress and had to take our first break. Okay, they were more like hills, but still. Everyone dropped and sat on a big mound, catching their breath and taking off a shoe or two to rub their feet.
“Chief, should we look for another route? I don’t think we can cross this desert without food and water,” a tall, skinny guy with ginger hair asked. It was the person who’d made the Your-Mother joke earlier, named Fredward.
“Frankly, I’ve never been this far myself,” Elfindor replied. “Anyone know how far the desert goes?”
Lots of head shaking and no’s.
While people were starting to doubt themselves, a wind picked up and an ominous sound made everyone instantly shut up.
Howling. Not too far from us. Multiple sources. Everyone stood up and picked up their gear.
“What was that?” someone whispered.
“Wolves?”
It wasn’t long before we had our answer. Ten big wolves with a large horn protruding from their skulls were running toward us, climbing and leaping over the sand hills with ease. Razor claws the size of fingers stuck out from their massive paws.
“Oh, shit! What are those things?!”
“M-monsters!”
“Horned wolves!”
If we’d known the desert would have those things, we would have stopped short and turned back to come up with a battle strategy. But now, we were in the thick of it. Big goops of saliva drooled from the creatures approaching like slime. There was no time to run. It was fight or die.
The young guys, who’d been nothing but bravado and show-offy earlier, huddled together like scared mice.
Even I started thinking I might die, unable to calm my trembling hands. Fear made my mind go blank. I could barely think, unable to distinguish my own internal voice from all the shouting around me. That’s why, when Elfindor’s voice cut through the air, shouting to get in formation, a tiny flicker of hope returned.
“Fifty of us, ten of them! Five men to a wolf. Spread out! Don’t charge in! Only attack when you have an opening!”
People naturally clustered and separated as they shouted their group of five was done. As the beasts stopped and surrounded us in a circle, the groups had finished forming.
The wolves ran in.