David was slowly moving through the Hungerwoods, towards the general direction that the Everlasting Flock was pointing at.
He was taking things slowly, carefully observing his surroundings and listening for any signs of nearby creatures. With the Hungerwoods being named so because the forest kept “eating” people, he wasn't in any rush to add to its infamy. It didn't help that he himself had never been here before. While he'd trudged through plenty of other dangerous and forbidden-type locales, each had its own unspoken rules, and he'd yet to learn this one's.
His pocket watch showed it had been about three bells since he'd started. A reasonable amount of time, but given his pace, he hadn't actually gone very far.
He'd spotted quite a few beasts and traces of more; nothing he didn't recognize or was too afraid of, but he really only was still in what could be considered the outskirts of the Hungerwoods.
Still, he was very aware that everything could change in an instant, which is why he wasn't too startled when a deep guttural roar echoed from the forest, followed by what sounded like some splintering wood, a few panicked bestial cries and then complete silence as every other critter nearby made themselves scarce.
Staying still, he strained his ears. The roar hadn't been that far off, and it had obviously come from the general direction he was headed in, because of course it would.
After a few minutes of relative silence, as the sound of the forest slowly returned, he resumed his march.
He soon arrived in the area that the Everlasting Flock was pointing at. From here on out, he'd have to use the finger. He moved further in; more likely than not, his true target would be closer to the middle.
Wary of any further disturbance, David prowled forward.
He pressed the bleached finger bone from the latest partial skeleton he'd found against the stupid music box.
No reaction.
Another dud.
He sighed, unfurling a cargo-cloth upon which he'd already stored 5 other such remains and whatever personal effects he'd found lying around them, all that over maybe a 100 meters or so.
Just how many people wandered into these forests just to die?
He'd heard something moving about in the area. Something rather big and heavy, but he hadn't spotted or smelled anything so far. Sadly, he had seen some signs that this was something's territory, mostly claw marks on trees and rubbed-off bark.
Probably some kind of ursine, he thought. It was relatively early in Spring, so the mama bears were probably busy caring for their cubs in their dens and not up and about too much. Most likely, this was a papa bear's territory.
The real question was, which kind of bear?
He hoped for one of the lesser kind: Brown bear, red bear or maybe even the ever-so-lovable dog bear if he was really lucky.
His money wasn't on one of those.
He finished storing the latest skeleton, sprinkled a bit of Gravedigger dust over the area, and moved further in, following the finger as it pointed onward.
He'd finally spotted the beast. A pits-damned Grumble bear. Whoever had named the species had to have had the worst naming sense ever, or wanted to play a cruel joke on everyone.
Such a non-aggressively named bear just had to simply be a grouchy big bundle of fur, surely.
Replace grouchy with perpetually one-stray-look-away-from-pure-rage and big bundle of fur with massive mound of coiled muscles covered in bristly spines.
You were left with a perpetually one-stray-look-away-from-pure-rage massive mound of coiled muscles covered in bristly spines.
He was on top of a small hill, overlooking what seemed to be the grumble bear's den. He looked at the finger, which was happily and blissfully pointing in the direction of said den.
He sighed. Quietly, less the grumble bear heard him.
He weighed his options.
He could retrieve some kind of bait from one of his cargo cloths and try to have the bear investigate.
He could wait for the bear to just go away to forage for food by itself.
He could attempt to fight the bear, although he wasn't really a fan of bear-assisted suicide.
The problem with the first two options was that bears tended to be active in the morning and evening. It was unlikely to be overly interested in moving far away from its den until then, and given that it was just around noon, David wasn't too enthusiastic about bumming the afternoon away.
The problem with the last option was pain and suffering.
He rubbed his chin.
Fourth option? Lure something else into the bear's territory?
That could work.
He just had to find a something else that was either just as dangerous as a grumble bear to tangle with it, or something crazy enough to do so.
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Honestly, he didn't like any of these options overly much, but as they said, no risks, no skeletons.
He stepped off, towards a solution, as always.
Just more quietly this time.
It occurred to him later, as he was investigating the signs of something large, and apparently viscous, if the amount of half-dried snot clinging to the trees was any indication, that he was here, attempting to retrieve a skeleton from an apex predator's den, so that a girl he'd met not even a week ago could purchase a run-down building on the outskirt of a border town at the far end of nowhere.
There were plenty of other buildings in town. Plenty of other perfectly good and available buildings that could have been purchased.
Why was he doing this again?
Right, gratitude for his nephew's life.
Surely this was worth at least one full gratitude? His debt would be repaid. Wouldn't it?
He sighed.
As he unfurled a cargo-cloth that contained an array of rather pungent beast bait and began to drop a trail of it between the viscous things and the grumble bear's territory, he was only distantly aware that this wasn't about repaying a debt at all.
Or rather, he hadn't yet realized. He was still focused on the debt aspect.
He was soon back to his impromptu observing post, on top of the small hill overlooking the bear's den.
He'd spotted the bear sniffing at the air quite a few times, in the direction of the line of bait he'd left behind, but, as he'd feared, it was rather more interested in just chewing on nearby berries and rubbing its ass on every surface it could find than really going anywhere.
So he settled in to wait. Either something would attract the bear, or the bear would eventually leave in search of a more substantial meal. He hoped for the former, but he'd settle for the latter. Whatever kept him alive.
As a Free Courier, you had to be adept at being both in a hurry and very patient. This was a very patient type of situation.
He patiently waited.
He wondered if Niala could brew something so stinky that it would scare the bear away.
He bet she could. She'd probably relish the prospect of coating him in an essence of stink or something as well, and then call him Lord of the Stink, or say that this new cologne suited his personality very well, or something silly like that.
He was almost tempted to return and ask her.
But then he figured that the essence of stink for the bear would probably be the essence of eat me, I'm so delicious to some other horrible creature, so he decided against it.
Mr. Bear, Mr. Bear, please move your ass.
Mr. Bear, Mr. Bear, I don't need your sass.
Mr. Bear, Mr. Bear, go stuff your face with grass.
Mr. Bear, Mr. Bear, you don't need to be so crass.
Mr. Bear, Mr. Bear, you'll be late for class.
Mr. Bear, Mr. Bear, better move all that mass.
Is that an Amberfallian Swallow or a Sonnelian Swallow?
Wait. Something's happening.
David put away his monocular and listened. Something was... rustling in the distance.
He looked at the bear. It appeared to have caught onto something as well, becoming agitated as it ambled around and pawed at the ground in the general direction of where David had left the bait.
It growled and finally began trundling away. David waited until he couldn't see or hear it anymore before quickly but carefully making his way to the den, which was indeed where the finger was pointing.
As he approached the den's entrance, he realized that the angle of view and perspective hadn't done the bear justice. The den had to be nearly 4 meters high, and the bear didn't seem to have that much free height above its body when he'd seen it come in and out.
That bear was massive.
As that little terrifying fact hit him, a roar, angry and violent, shook the forest. Apparently, the bear had met something, if the sounds of bestial struggle that followed were any indication.
He sprinted into the den, bringing out his Courier plaque and activating one of its extra functions, that of a light source, to offset the growing dimness as he walked in further.
It wasn't all that deep, however, and after a few seconds, he came around a small bend that ended in a somewhat larger room. He scanned around and saw in a corner a pile of bones and scraps, towards which the finger was pointing.
Approaching, he indeed spotted quite a few human-looking bones, especially skulls, mixed in among the pile and with a rapid mental tally, he guessed there were at least a dozen humanoid corpses here, which was slightly concerning.
He went quiet and listened. The relative silence told him that the struggle between the bear and the interloper had probably ended. A bead pearling on his brow he quickly unfurled a large, empty cargo-cloth and rapidly shoved as much of the bone pile that he could onto it before storing everything, rolling it back up and turning to leave, rounding the bend and freezing in place, mirroring the grumble bear that had been slowly dragging a giant snake... slug thing back into its den, as man and beast stared at each other for a second.
He swallowed and made for calming, if probably pointless, gestures with his hands as he gently spoke.
“Easy there, Mr. Bear. I'm leaving. I don't want to hurt you. Shhh...”
The bear nearly spat out the snake-slug, reared back up and ROARED, letting David know just how entirely incensed it was.
David closed his eyes and willed, his muscles tensing as a blue glow sprang from within him and along his entire body.
He kicked at the ground, propelling him into the bear, ducking under the bear's claw that slashed where his head had just been, pushing his shoulder into the bear's midsection.
Before the bear could react, David firmly pressed against the bear's mid-riff and pushed with his legs once more, imparting the massive beast with momentum as if his body were a cannonball, man and beast flying out of the den, the beast roaring in panicked protest.
Mid-flight, David grabbed onto the bear's prickly fur and bent his legs up, pressing both feet against the bear's mid-section before pushing one last time.
The bear exploded further along, smashing straight through a tree at the edge of the clearing and embedding itself into another. The top of the destroyed tree crashed to the forest floor, splintered branches flying everywhere.
David rebounded a few meters back towards the den, rolling on the ground, muscles taut and strained.
The glow dimmed and disappeared as he forced himself up and stumbled into a sprint away from the area without even sparing a glance at the stunned and confused beast.
He distantly became aware of something wet and gooey impacting the ground where he'd just been a step ago. A rapid look over his shoulder showed him the snake-slug, Snug?, being very much alive. Had it been playing dead?
Its throat bulged, and another gob of mucus went flying his way. He weaved around a tree, avoiding the projectile.
Then an even angrier ROAR resounded. The bear wasn't happy at all.
David concentrated on running away. He soon heard a struggle erupt behind him, the two beasts coming to blows once more and affording him the precious few moments he needed to escape.
Let's not do that again. He mentally noted as he made his way back south to Riverwall, carrying with him nearly 20 humanoid remains. Hopefully, one of them was Jasmund's.
Surely he hadn't just wrestled with a bear ten times his weight for no good reason.
Snake-slug thing?
