The Hunter's Guide to Monsters

Chapter 32 - The Goblin Caravan (1)

"Having spoken to no one yet, I can assure you those claims are only rumor." Krow sipped his spice tea, outwardly unbothered by the seeming accusation.

Inwardly, he was both curious and irritated. He didn't nearly die several times in one night just to defend whatever 'claim' the man wanted to discuss. Also, what had they heard that they didn't just thank him and move on?

He'd prefer they just thanked him and moved on, really.

But not before they reached the town.

The caravans were actually going at a good clip. He was in the center wagon, and he was close enough to the team following that he could see they were red-eared oxen.

Too small to be the actual monster though. Maybe a strain bred with common cattle?

Krow wondered at their hurry. They didn't even stop to rest in Gremut.

Well. None of his business.

The stories of Trade Clans said they had very direct conflict resolution models if you offended them.

Currently, he was surrounded.

Heh.

"Seinalt claims you both faced a great white tiger and lived to tell the tale." The man took a nut pastry from the selection on the table. "Impressive, if true."

Krow picked up a candied plum, mirroring the man's action, if only to be polite.

"Seinalt is remarkably proficient with the truth. We came across a snow liger – well-fed, since it didn't immediately pounce on us. We waited until something else distracted it, and then ran away."

They bit into their respective treats.

The candied plum was sweet and sour, juicy inside with an outer crystalline layer. Krow dipped it into the small bowl of turquoise salt on his side of the table, nodded in contentment when he bit again. Better.

"The distraction being the condorowl bent on tearing the both of you limb from limb." There was an air of quotation in the statement.

Exactly how dramatic did Sein make that story, and how did he convey it in its entirety when he just woke up less than fifteen minutes ago?

'We were fortunate to be able to leave the nest. In the process, the condorowl hatchling died."

"Enraging the parent, yes. Rage enough to go against a snow liger in pursuit of your lives."

Krow waited for the man to continue.

He didn't. He just stared at Krow for one very long moment.

Krow sipped tea.

The man sighed. "We found the site of the monster battle. It was considerable, I admit." He tossed the last of the pastry into his mouth, chewed slowly. "They injured each other enough to retreat. A draw, I believe."

A glance at Krow. "That was also when we found your trail, and proceeded to follow."

Krow found it hard to believe they just left after. He was sure that if he went back, there would be no sign of the monsters.

"I congratulate you on the good haul." Krow thought it was impressive that the words came out without revealing the envy he felt.

Of course he was envious! Who wouldn't be?!

There were two valuable monsters above Lvl 20 just sitting there weakened by battle and ripe for the picking! What smart tradesman surrounded by a complement of strong fighters wouldn't take advantage?

The man nodded briefly at that, a small smile flitting across his face.

Whoa, it must really have been a good haul.

Krow knew snow liger materials were rare in the south.

Too bad, he mused, quietly fantasizing about the Rare items he could make from the snow liger bones and hide. Every part of the animal could be sold; he was less sure about the condorowl.

Wait.

Wait, he could have just tossed the dead hatchling into his Inventory and butchered it when they were safe! Gah, why didn't he do that?!

Krow blamed the momentary stupidity on the bewildering rush of being alive when he expected to be dead.

He should really be used to that at this point.

The next words the man spoke shocked him out of his silent lamentations.

"You actually had two people trailing you for the last half hour."

Hah?

They what? Krow sat still for a moment, grappling for something to say. "…Sein was really disappointed he saw none of your caravan."

The uncle waved a hand. "He was being watched over."

"And they didn't know if showing themselves would provoke a violent reaction from me." Krow calmly added. Draculkar, he tried not to think, were known slave-owners.

The bone beads in the man's hair clinked as he inclined his head. "I'm very grateful that he is returned to us."

"I'm grateful for the ride. I planned to walk to Nyurajke."

If the man wanted to continue his probing, he didn't get the chance. Sein barged through the curtain separating their cozy sitting area from other sections of the large travel-wagon.

"They do not believe I have profited from this venture!" He plopped himself down beside Krow and stuffed a fruit tart into his mouth, chewing huffily.

Krow smirked. "Do you have a container?"

The kid obviously came to get his proof.

Sein beamed. "I have a box under my bed! Einel won it from a farmer who didn't know how to repair it last week. She said she didn't mind if I borrowed it."

A mage-crafted box, maybe?

Sein grabbed a second tart, tugged at Krow's sleeve with his free hand, standing.

"I'm having an audience with your uncle." Because that's what it felt like. An audience with someone exuding the presence of a crushing mountain.

"I already told them everything important!"

"It's also important to have multiple sources of information," Krow said lightly, "Or there'll be someone implying we fought off a predatory cat five times larger than ourselves and won."

Sein reddened a bit, but straightened his spine and rallied. "In a confrontation where the odds are so imbalanced in the enemy's favor, to live is to win! To live without massive injury is to win gloriously!"

"To be able to philosophize about it afterward is to win twice," Krow added sarcastically.

Sein snickered, unrepentant. "A victory even more magnificent!"

Shameless kid. Krow laughed.

A deep chuckle joined their merriment.

"I see my nephew will pester us to death if he cannot display his treasures." The uncle nodded. "There is time to talk later."

Krow unfolded his frame from the cushion. "I still do not know your name, trader?"

"Uncle is Harnalt," Sein interjected impatiently. "You can call him Harn,"

Krow definitely couldn't. He only had the time to nod politely at the Uncle, before he was dragged to an inner room.

Half a dozen pairs of eyes converged upon their entry. There were three children chattering around a low table, sitting comfortably on padded mats, and three other older members of the caravan lounging around the cushioned platforms attached to the side of the wagon wall.

"This is Krow," Sein announced to the room. "I'm going to get the box."

Then he dove through a smaller curtained doorway, and left Krow alone in a room of women and children.

This was, Krow mused as he considered the formation of the armed riders on horseback, the most protected place in the caravan.

He definitely wasn't supposed to be here.

He smiled at no one in particular, bowed from where he stood, and then turned his eyes silently to a tapestry hung just inside the curtained doorway.

An abstract greyscale work, chaotic.

And yet there was something about it that compelled Krow to study it for itself, rather than just being polite.

A few seconds, and he picked up the faint green and red threads almost hidden in the tapestry. He leaned back. The chaotic patches of grey, black, white suddenly became a monster – a snake-type, from the suggestion of coils in the swirling shadows, a hint of horror.

Krow knew that horror well, now.

It couldn't leave his dreams.

He forcibly focused on another part of the tapestry.

There was a small figure, shades of grey with slivers of black to indicate a shape, indistinct but recognizably female, holding a spear in one hand, the staff of a cleric in the other.

From the cracked patches used to depict her leaning on the staff, probably injured, but her spear was steadily pointed at the monster snake.

A monster hunter, he decided.

But maybe that was just him projecting his interests on an innocent artwork.

Krow tilted his head.

A forest of strangely-crooked trees resolved themselves out of the composition. They looked oddly like they were both laughing and staring with intent at the fight.

Anthropomorphic trees.

Okay.

He caught a green thread in the mess and couldn't help but follow it as it hid and resurfaced in the chaos. Taking its path through the work, it was…a wheel.

What.

He was fairly certain that was a symbol of marriage in the Trade Clans.

He eyed the figures again.

Horror, laughter, fight, black, white, grey. Was that marriage?

A symbol of something else?

Eh, he only took that art theory class in college because he knew the higher-ups in corporations liked to affect refinement by talking about the cultural renaissance of the last generation. That class was, by now, decades in the past. What could he remember?

Yeah, it was undeniably a wheel, it was undeniably limned in hidden green thread. Green for hope?

"Krow!" Sein grinned from where he popped up at Krow's elbow. "Do you like the tapestry? One day, I'll travel to the Water Hills in Souris and fight a Gorgau myself."

The boy's energy at having found his family was really excessive.

And did he say that snake monster was a Gorgon? Then the artist accurately caught the atmosphere of horror around the monster.

Being digested by a Gorgon was slow and painful.

There were stories of people eaten by Gorgons whose cries would be heard for weeks outside the monster's lair before they quieted. Or eaten and later retrieved, but with their skin and faces melted off.

Thinking of it, Krow was almost lucky his last life was ended by stoneshark, which killed immediately.

Perspective, he supposed.

Krow ruffled the boy's hair. "Sounds dangerous. I didn't think the Trade Clans had a tradition of betrothal hunts?"

That was the only reason he could think of that a work depicting a battle would have a marriage wheel in the design.

"Our ancestor got betrothed in the tradition of the other side," answered a voice that was not Sein.

The portiere rustled, falling to its usual limpness as the vaguely disquieting young woman that had fetched him and Sein from the Gremut visiting-house came to stand in the room.

There was something about her swirling eyes that was pointed, very different from Sein's innocence, or even the cultivated gentleness in the Uncle's eyes.

She softly reordered Sein's locks, which were sticking up. The boy huffed and flapped his hands at hers.

"She won, then?" Krow indicated the figure in the tapestry.

Someone saw her fight and decided to wife her, was apparently what the tapestry depicted.

"She was losing, in fact." The other smiled. "But the one who came across the fight was reportedly charmed by her steadfast stubborn refusal to die and deigned to assist."

"Romantic," Krow muttered, dubious. He glanced again at the crooked, laughing trees. The entertained trees.

Dryads, he snorted to himself.

It wasn't like he'd met many members of the race. Of the ones he'd had semi-regular contact with, it was like the word 'mischief' was invented to describe the state of their souls.

It was a great blessing to the world that most dryads preferred to live as solitary reclusive hermits.

"There is a song," the young woman agreed with a sigh, "that details the absolute mess of that romance. It was written by her brother, who had limited skills in the bardic arts but still felt the need to mock his sister in immortal verse."

"Oh, don't sigh, Einel," called one of the older girls sprawled over an upper bunk, smirking. "it's hilarious and you know it."

"Sorry if I don't like speculating on the love life of my mentor, who happens to also be my great-great grandmother."

There were sniggers.

"She wouldn't mind," laughed someone.

"She'd detail it all for you herself," agreed the first girl.

Yikes.

Thankfully, Sein was a bro and pulled him to the table with the younger children, away from the burgeoning catfight.

"If you suggest something to her," Einel smiled, voice never changing from the soft tones. "I'll send a bouquet of poppy ribbons to a certain knight."

"…fine," the other capitulated with half-hearted grouchiness, smirk only slightly dimming. "I'll keep all the juicy, juicy details to myself."

"Please do."

Krow ignored them, once he knew the worst was over.. He'd just found that the 'box' Sein was talking about was an Appraisal Box.