Chapter 020 Forest Paths

-Mark Twain, Autobiographical Dictation, P.357, Wednesday, February 14, 1906

******

******

Spring began to hint at its arrival in its usual fashion. Not by warming, but rather by the temperature dropping even further as winter's grasp grew more possessive and jealous. 

It would break. It would always break. Until such time though, the puddles turned to ice. Rain became snow more often and sometimes lingered for days. Nights, once chilly had become long hours of biting cold that had Neron bundled up in two extra blankets, purchased in the first town they'd passed through after the storm. The sun provided little to no warmth and what it did was stolen by the wind's sharp knives.

Twice more the trio had found themselves confronted by winter storms during their journey south. Once they had been lucky enough to be resting in a village inn, passing the day and night beside a roaring fire as the season howled its fury outside.

The second time they had been unlucky enough to be left to fend for themselves against the elements. Only Neron's new habit, gained due to the lesson he had learned from his long march through rain and gale, of always setting up camp in a position as protected as possible from another storm saved them. It remained a close thing, however. The downpour had begun in the middle of the night and Neron awoke to half the pegs keeping his tent down blowing loose. Hours followed as he forcefully held the tent down against the rain that wished to pry it from his trembling hands.

Baring those two incidents, the journey proved relatively uneventful. Jorry, the cold tearing what energy he had as quickly as he could get it, passed most of it asleep. Bundled in every blanket and clothe Neron possessed, his nose the only part exposed, he was carried in Neron's pack under his cloak. Cuholy sometimes walked, sometimes rode Neron's shoulders. Even as she continued to fill out compared to their first days together, her mass was still not enough to seriously impede the Martian.

Days were spent mostly in walking, with a few hours tracking and acquiring food if needed. Cuholy's sensitive hearing, combined with Neron's rising mastery of his Jacobson Organ, made finding prey easy. Trapping and killing it was not always so simple, but the pair had learned to work well together. Even if Cuholy remained deathly terrified of anything that matched or exceeded her in size, she still followed Neron's orders well enough that they never went hungry for long.

In a world where nothing remained dead forever, over-hunting was not an issue and prey was plentiful even while they remained in Calderinian territory. Even more so now that the road, and the river it followed, had led them from the over-farmed heath to the forests of southern Calderine. They were not quite into the wild, the woods sparser than they would be without the occasional logging mill or clearing for an entrepreneurial settler, yet the carefully managed road had transitioned from a clear path of stone to dirt, interrupted regularly by holes, roots, and fallen debris. 

The Mandory river, one of the few significant sources of flowing fresh water to the south of the capital, ran from the crags in the east in a south west direction, cutting through Calderine territory at an oblique angle. Beholden as life was to water sources, even in this game, the city state did not have many choices for locations of outposts that were simultaneously close enough to water to allow for ease of access while also remaining safe from its denizens. There were only so many people who could be employed in casting Spring at any given point before their Spirits were too exhausted to continue. It might be enough to provide water for a town to drink, but for bathing, washing, crops, or the thousand of other daily uses of water it was not nearly enough.

The Mandory was one of the few that fit every needed category a civilization such as Calderine required. It was large enough to support thousands at any given point. It was rapid enough not to stagnate while still not being so quick as to cause damage to the environment when it flooded in the winter and spring. And, most importantly, it was new. 

The Woe, before which there was no Mandory, might have been centuries ago yet the time it took for not only lifeforms to establish dominance and grow in an aquatic environment was much greater than on land. Certain sections of the river were more dangerous than others, but so long as the new town managed to cull any dominant species that tried to get on land in their area, they could live in only minor danger.

It was because the river was simultaneously dangerous yet also necessary that the road followed it at a distance. At any given point the two were never more than an hour's walk apart, nor closer than a single Ylm. This created a corridor of land with a high density of animals that Neron and Cuholy had used to find the vast majority of their food. 

Neron, who had never been in a forest, even one as tame as this one had relished the change in environment. The trees cut the wind, even if they blocked the sunlight, and there was plenty of shelter to be found when it came time to either camp for the night or when the necessities of real life pulled him from God's Nature. Firewood was plentiful, as were small animals Neron could use as training with his Jacobson Organ. The mulchy scent/taste of fallen leaves. The natural noises of a place so densely packed in life. It was a sensory experience he found surprisingly soothing, even though he knew that danger could be lurking behind every tree.

If Neron enjoyed the forest then Cuholy thrived in it. Nimbly hopping from root or stone, crouching and hiding in every manner of shadow, and climbing trees whenever she got the chance, she took to the forest like a fish to water and it brought out a lively side of her that Neron hadn't seen much of before. Grey foxes were incredibly predisposed to this environment and Cuholy certainly enjoyed it to the fullest extent. It was certainly helped by the fact that, with Jorry sleeping all the time, they rarely got into fights. She'd gorge herself on little prey, from bird nests to woodland rodents, and use Neron to deal with anything that had a remote chance of hurting her. 

She laughed as she chased squirrels. She frolicked through bushed and grasses. She hummed as she rode Neron's shoulder. She never said it, but it was clear that the little fox was having the time of her life.

Neron was still on the look out for the perfect opportunity to ruin it.

Wiping his chin from the grease that had dribbled from his lips, Neron tossed the last of the pheasant he'd caught in his trap to Cuholy. The fox dove at it with a laugh of joy from her log, leaving behind her own meal of a half consumed family of voles for the greater prize. She rolled with her momentum, falling ass over tea-kettle and stopping with her jaws already around the bird's neck.

Neron watched her enjoy the meal with gusto, his thoughts not reflected on his face.

It wasn't that he harbored any particular ill will toward the fox, nor did he find her joy unpleasant to be around. In fact, he much preferred this lively countenance to the frightful manner she exhibited before. Nor was he dissatisfied with her company. She was uneducated, as were all animals due to having no one to teach them, but she was observant, thoughtful, and inquisitive. Most of their travels, when not meeting other travelers on the road, was spent in conversation. Cuholy would ask a question, Neron would answer as best he could, and they'd continue for hours.

If one were to consider these matters solely by personality, then Cuholy was an even better fit for Neron than even Jorry.

Yet it was the snake that Neron had no plans to discard while he could not claim the same for the fox. At least not for this moment. He'd rather not have to, of course, but he would if she failed to meet his requirements. And she'd never get the chance to meet those requirements unless her current happiness was challenged. 

Neron did not plan on stopping his wanderings once he saw the Bone Wall. He still had a year and a half or so in game time before his application process would begin in earnest and there was no reason not to avail himself of the benefits of the pod. Yet many of his potential destinations were dangerous. He was not willing to drag along dead weight. It wasn't that she needed to be useful, she inherently was just by her enhanced senses, but once Neron gained those senses for himself, he would be left with someone he needed to protect rather than someone who would be able to help him in turn. This world was too dangerous to have that kind of baggage.

Idly rubbing a hand across his neck, Neron watched the fox tear a leg from the bird. Bones crunched under canine teeth.

The question was, how should he go about it? It was one thing to have an obvious goal near at hand, such as with Jorry, but it was another thing entirely to set up a situation out of hand while being accompanied by the very being he wished to deceive. Especially when it wasn't for something as concrete as loyalty and for something more nebulous as a willingness to fight... or perhaps courage would be the correct term? 

Cuholy did as he asked and had shown no displeasure with his orders. Granted, he'd given those orders in consideration for her temperament but the fact still stood she had not once complained about her roll as bait. If it were not for the fact that, as proven by the encounter during the storm, danger would not appear on his terms Neron would not mind keeping her around. Even in such a controlled encounters as he'd been able to arrange she still panicked and lost her head.

Neron let out a sigh, leaning back against the tree trunk and gazing up at the small slices of the night sky through the foliage. It was a clear night. The moons were bright. The shadows were long and moving with a slight breeze. The air was cold and the fire was hot. The road was far away, its occasional travelers by invisible and inaudible.

Here, in this half-wild place, with a hungering fox and sleeping snake as his only companions, he might as well have been the only human in this world.

Neron let out a desolate sigh, a profound ennui settling on his shoulders.

"I will be leaving for a while," Neron called out the fox as he began the log out process. "Keep the fire going and eye out for Jorry. If it dies, drag the bag closed and put him in the hole beside the tent."

"Um," Cuholy agreed through a mouthful of cooked meat. She swallowed. "I understand." 

Neron gave her a nod. This was not the first time he'd logged out and left her to take care of Jorry while he was gone but this was the first time he'd done so on whim. Usually he gave her more of a heads up. Strictly speaking, there was no reason to log out. It was the middle of the night in the real world. Anything he could accomplish, whether sleep or studies, could be accomplished better here with the multiplication. 

Yet Neron just needed to get out. Needed to get something out. A boredom... or maybe dissatisfaction. A frustration. Something that wasn't normal or useful or productive or kind or hum-

Neron let out another sigh, this one explosive.

"Is everything okay?"

"Nothing to worry about," Neron told Cuholy as she regarded him with wide brown eyes. "I just have something I need to deal with."

He'd visit a bar or an amusement facility. One that catered to those on the third shift and would be open till dawn and the fourth shift rolled in. One where he could find someone who he could convince to help him exercise this nameless emotion. Somewhere he hadn't been before. Where he could find a challenge.

"...Okay."

When the fox returned to her meal, her eyes continued to track him until the moment his appeared from God's Nature.

******

A monster made life easier for the pack.

We hid easier. We hunted easier. We had options we did not before.

Yet our goal remained the same: to find a territory safe for the pack. And to do that, we needed the missing pack members. We needed the dead. Including the Mother.

It is claimed that Délaash returns our bodies in a location that is 'safe.'

That is a lie.

Délaash does not, can not, care about safety for nowhere is safety found within, upon, or above it.

No, Délaash returns our bodies to where we have opportunities. Opportunities to grow. To get revenge upon our slayer. To overcome that which overcame us.

We found the Mother and our lost pack mates hunting the Blessed and being hunted in turn. 

Players had found them first and were 'farming' them. 

How many times this cycle had repeated in the moon it took to locate them we can not know. We do know that the Mother did not return to being the Mother for weeks. Whether helping them kill the Players killing them sped up this process or not, we do not know.

We do know that in killing the Players, in moving as the pack, in revealing we had a monster amongst us, we became prey dozens, perhaps hundreds of Blessed wished to eradicate.

Our journey gained urgency as prey and hunter switched weekly, sometimes daily. We killed and were killed in turn. So long as at least one of us Was, the pack would survive.

Looking back, knowing what I know now, I recognize that they had traced our path toward the moons' cradle from our victims. Even if we killed and grew and ate, they would return with the news of our position. We were in a race, one we could not win yet we were forced to run.

Even as we ran to our doom.

And our salvation.

I tell you all this because you must understand our situation. Our actions, terrible as they might, were no more or less than our sole means of survival. 

We lived in a world that was disappearing, where our predators encroached upon us by the day, by the minute. All we sought was a safe place. A safe place to grow, to live, to raise our family.

But Délaash can not provide safety. It has never known it. We were chasing a fantasy. And we were running into a dead end.

We were running into the jaws of the Beast itself.

I get ahead of myself.

At that time, half of the pack was not themselves. We'd been ambushed by a group of Players so strong that flight was our only option. Those that died did it so we, who were fully Us, would survive.

We roamed far to find them once more, to bring them back to the pack, yet we did not have the choice to remain. There was no knowing when those hunters, which we could not face, would find us again.

Long were the days we continued to flee south. No break for hunting. No time to let the pups play. We must flee.

Hunted, we were. Vigorously. Relentlessly. 

I will not speak in depth of those days. They are not what you are here for. I will simply say they were long, hard, and violent. We came to recognize our hunters by smell. It was always the same group of eight. I can not say why they did not seek further aid from other Blessed. Had they done so we would have been lost. Perhaps it was revenge.

I believe it was greed. That oldest, simplest, and greatest of greed. The greed for power.

They hunted us for that greed.

Yet, even as we fled, even as we died, we never left one of our behind. 

Even when it cost us, the pack never left one of ours behind. The pack was more than family. It was everything.

It cost us. Both from our hunters and from other, tangential threats.

The birds were the sole reason we survived. They warned us of hunters, of positions, of movements. We slipped into places they thought we would never find.

We, finally, managed to conceal and ambush them one night, during a storm. We knew it was coming and they did not. We knew where they'd seek cover. The pack had a monster to conceal it in the mud and stone.

We waited and then we killed. Rain washed the blood and wind hid the sounds. We ate and grew from their flesh. We destroyed and left them weaker for the loss of their tools.

We ruined them.

And then, using those six hours of death and days of travel our hunters had lost, we continued our travels toward the moon's cradle.

The forest gave us a measure of safety. Prey was plentiful as were those corners we could hide. But we were very aware it was but a temporary refuge, that the hunters would be on our tails soon.

You must recognize that we were smart. We were wise. We were not beasts without thought or reason.

Yet we lacked knowledge. We lacked the communication that Players take so for granted. All we knew is all we learned by tooth and claw and blade.

The smartest thing we could have done was to not engage with the Blessed at all. To pass through the weave of towns and roads, going unremarked and unknown.

Yet we could not know that. All we knew was that every Blessed death was a return of one of the pack to Themselves. Every death was a chance for one of us to Be and for everyone of us that Was the pack was a tiny bit stronger, a tiny bit safer.

So we must keep killing, for only in that manner can we be safe. With strength. The greed of our hunters was no different than our own hunger for power.

And we had plenty to kill in those woods. Travelers were rare, but more frequently vulnerable. Towns were less prosperous and defended. And, most importantly, what new hunters there were could never know the true strength of the pack that lurked in the shadows. We had no schools but what we did learn was to be cunning. Who to ambush. When to do so. 

Thus we were, a pack fleeing our home in search of sanctuary in strength. We were predators introduced to a field of prey that was unprepared for us.

One day, not long after entering the forest, we discovered a feast. A banquet of prey and opportunity.

We had met our destiny.

... Forgive us.

Please, I beg of you, forgive us.

We did not know. We could not know.

I can not blame us for our ignorance but nor can I blame you for your condemnation.

For all that you have suffered. For all that we have suffered.

Our actions might have been against you, but they were never targeted. Just as you never hated us as you killed us, we never hated you as we did the same.

From one thinking, feeling being to another.

From one victim to another.

Forgive us for our trespass, just as we forgive you for yours.

Forgive us for wanting to live. To grow. To give our children safety and hope. To give our pups a better future than that of prey, hunted for levels and pelts.

Forgive us for giving the Beast his fangs.

Even as we can not forgive ourselves.

******

It had been months yet that Neron had been trying to assimilate the Jacobson Organ. Often he would interrupt his attempt to try his hand at other traits, many of which he acquired much quicker. Yet the super sensory organ, for all that it was an enhancement to usual senses, was proving to be much more difficult to subsume into his subconscious as something as banal as fur or an extended jaw.

He wasn't without his progress, of course. Not only had he gotten much better at distinguishing taste/smells, building an internal catalogue that was if not complete then certainly vast. He had also gotten much better at using his tongue as a tuning fork, triangulating the trails of these scents to provide a direction of origin. Quite frankly, Neron was not certain what aspect he lacked to finally complete the assimilation. Would achieving such progress over the course of months be considered fast or slow? Neron did not know.

What he did know was that, though Jorry was the creature he copied the trait from, his use of it differed slightly. The snake, when he could be awake in the cold of late winter, could sense smaller, older traces with much greater ease. The smallest rodent in the grass. Scents that were days, or weeks old. Pheromones that Neron simply could not parse. 

Yet, for all that the snake had a delicate palate Neron could not match, there were some aspects of his usage of the organ that were even greater than those of the black rat snake. This was primarily due to size, and the height at which they their tongues operated. Neron could taste smells from almost a kilometer away if they were pungent enough. He was the first to know if there were birds in the trees or flying above their head.

It was thanks to his continued practice that he was able to sense the fire.

It was in the part of the day, later afternoon, where Neron and Cuholy searched for food and a place to set up camp for the night. They hadn't had much luck in the former, excepting a small squirrel the fox caught and ate in a matter of minutes, but had discovered a recess between three intertwined trees that would serve as a decent solution to the latter. Neron was half an hour away from deciding to give up the hunt as a bad job and pass the night with his dwindling provisions, when he caught the scent of cooking meat and spice on the edge of his tongue.

"Cuholy," he called to the fox crouching in the bush. His voice startled not only her but also the small bird she was about to pounce on and it took to its wings with a trill of chirping that sounded like a small voice crying out 'Noisedangerflydangernoiseah' to Neron.

"I would have had it," Cuholy said, lips and ears turned down in a vulpine pout as she walked up to Neron. "What is it?"

"There are people nearby."

The fox let out a 'yip' of surprise and dashed toward him, using her claws to scramble up his leg, back and hide herself under his cloak. She was careful not to put too much weight on his bag, where Jorry slept, and perched half hidden on his shoulder.

Once she was 'safe,' Cuholy poked her head out and gave the air a sniff.

"Are they dangerous?"

"Let us see," Neron said, curiosity driving him forward. If nothing else, their cooking smelled good enough that he was already scheming various methods of gaining a portion for himself. 

Neron, by dint of being the caretaker of his sisters for over a decade, was not a bad cook and he'd a received a few extra lessons on cooking in the wild during his time at Ysold's. Despite that, he lacked the interest in the art to really push himself beyond the basic necessities of keeping himself fed, defaulting more often than not to those meals which were filling and nutritious rather than anything that tasted good. That meant he was predisposed to accepting rations, forage, and the occasional animal over an open fire, something that many players accustomed to the luxuries of the modern world struggled with. It also meant that he would not turn down the chance of a more flavorful meal if he had the opportunity to receive it with minimum effort.

It was easy to follow the scent through the woods, even at such a distance. As they approached Neron was able to distinguish a bit more about the other scent/tastes. The spices were nothing he was unfamiliar with, being a blend of culpine and visnee, God's Nature's rough equivalent of thyme and tarragon even if the former was a touch more bitter and latter had a greater kick. 

Of more interest was the other scents. Blood was expected, as he could taste the meat being cooked and the kill was probably fresh, yet Neron was interested in the fact that the coppery tang was much more prevalent than should be if there had been a single kill. It was also fresh, as in the last hour or so.

There were other scents below that as well, more subtle. Oil for treating leather. Sweat. An alcohol, closer to pure than that of drink. The taste of smoke from the fire, one Neron could identify as burning spruce as it was one he had used frequently since they'd entered the forest.

"I hear three voices," Cuholy reported as they approached, her ears pointed in the direction they were traveling. Neron stopped, letting her listen. "They sound like they're in a good mood. Talking about how they were fighting... two men and one woman. The woman just insulted one of the men, called him a... limpet? The other laughed and the man responded that she wouldn't understand his... I don't know this word, 'munificence.' He didn't sound angry. The second man, still laughing, asked if that was his 'word of the day.' He said no, it was yesterday's. 'Today's is 'incontinent' but it's a shit word so he won't use it.' The woman groaned and the other man laughed."

Neron forming a rough idea of what to expect from this recounting, nodded at Cuholy to continue narrating as he continued forward at a slower pace. He was not familiar enough with the terrain to pass in absolute silence, but he was at least cautious enough to not make enough noise to overcome the natural sounds of the forest.

"The first man asked if the food is ready, the woman told him five minuets. The first man said he is 'iffy' about it but it smells good. The woman told him to get over it, they will be eating it for weeks and he'll get used to it." 

Now wasn't that interesting. 

"He says he feels bad eating raccoons but the second man told him its not a raccoon, it just looks like one." 

Neron was close enough now that he could vaguely make out the light of their fire in the shadows of a few leaves in the upper half of trees. Yet he couldn't see anything from ground level. Deliberate concealment or a turn of fortune? Close enough to hear the voices himself, Neron paused in the shadows of the trees for a heartbeat, waiting for them to notice him before he approached further. They didn't.

From the exact species of creature they were cooking, something called a coati, the conversation shifted back to their fight with it.

"Once we get the walls further apart it will be a lot easier," the woman was telling the other two. "Right now, we're pretty much facing them one on one. We can switch, but it's gonna be slow."

"It was much tougher than I expected," one of the men answered. "And I don't have a good angle to hit it from behind my shield. Maybe I should try the spear again?"

"Don't bother," the other answered dismissively. "I only use it because I suck with everything else. Sure in a tunnel like this I stick the pointy end forward but that's it. If one of these guys get close to me I'm screwed. I'm gonna be focusing on getting my Spark bigger and quicker. It'll give me some options."

"You want to start fires in enclosed spaces," the first man said dryly. "Just let me know when you do so I can run away. I like the air in my lungs, thank you."

"That shouldn't be a problem," the woman spoke up. "We'll go slow. Make sure the tunnels are wide and we have airflow."

"We can't go too slow," the second man denied. "They'll respawn and if we kill an Elite we'll be on a timer until it gets its mind back. Once one of them realizes we're here the others will be all over us."

"There might not be any Elite's beside the Boss," the woman suggested. "This ain't a big one or the guilds will have picked up on it. And we don't have a choice. If we want to keep it to ourselves, at least for a little while, we need to be careful. We can't handle an entire dungeon at once."

"A week. We'll go slow for a week then we can decide if we can handle it or if we should sell it. Sound fair?"

"Fair."

"Fine."

"If I may point out," Neron said, stepping beyond the trees and into the firelight. "If you wish to conceal your newly discovered dungeon, it would be best to speak softly, not use as many spices, and set up a proper guard or alert system."

All three figures sitting around the fire flinched, heads turning in surprise toward Neron and scrambling to their feet, grabbing their weapons and facing him. Neron did not move, letting them do so as he shifted his body language to one that spoke of easy confidence without any aggression as he got a proper look at the trio.

They were all three human, earthlings by size, and on the younger side. Definitely less than a century, probably younger than Neron, and possibly around his sisters in age. All three had dark hair, tan skin that was more south American than Mediterranean, and a hesitation to their movements that told him they were not used to being ready for a fight at this hour.

"Who're you?" One of the men, the tallest, asked as he held his recently grabbed shield between him and Neron. His sword was out, hanging slightly at his side, yet it swayed while his shield remained steady. Perhaps it was from seeing the origin of the Guardian Nature recently, but Neron found the display singularly nonthreatening despite him only having his staff.

"My name is Kaisar, a Player like yourselves," Neron introduced himself genially despite the hostility. "I was looking for food when I smelled your delicious cooking and thought that I would ask if I could have some. On my way I overheard a bit of your conversation and for that I apologize."

"Noob or Gimp?" The other man, the one hanging back with a spear in his hands, asked and it took Neron a moment to recognize what was being asked.

"I am only on my first Step," Neron answered none-the-less and watched them relax. The shield wielder even went so far as to sheathe his sword. Were they serious? He could be lying. More than a 'Gimp,' as the slang was for someone on their second Step, Neron could be a 'Lemming' or a 'Vet' as third and fourth Step Players were known and they'd have no idea. "And yourselves?"

"Gimps," the woman, a meat cleaver in hand but unready, gave Neron a proud grin.

The threat went unsaid but their confidence had returned. Even if they were the same level, which they almost certainly weren't, as second Step Players they'd have twice the stats as him and there was three of them and one of him. Clearly, they felt secure in their power.

How cute.

"So what're we going to do with you?" The spear-man tried to make his voice intimidating as he leaned forward, and to his credit he managed to scare Cuholy into hiding deeper into his hood, placing his head and body between him and the other Players, but that was all he accomplished. Neron almost wished to point out that his 'cruel' leer was offset by the fact that his feet were clearly set so he could jump away.

"Do with me?" Neron asked guilelessly.  "What do you mean?"

"You know our secret," the woman clarified grimly. "We can't let you tell others."

Neron blinked. Were they serious?

"I mean," Neron began, keeping the incredulity from his voice and only showing confusion. "If you are talking about the dungeon then... nothing? I might not be able to beat you in a fight, and had not thought to try to be honest, but I can just log out and post the location in a game board. Even if my character dies, it is not like I have lost anything of value." 

He probably had more gold in his pocket than they'd see before they reached one hundred and supposedly the Lees Lens was worth a lot but they didn't know that. Nor did they need to for their own benefit if nothing else. Anybody who tried to threaten another Player with violence in exchange for secrecy without the method of follow through after death was simply too incompetent to be trusted with anything of tangible value.

And these three, if not dumb were at least ignorant. Neron could see by the surprise in their eyes and the way they looked to each other helplessly that they were genuinely stumped by his 'argument.' Maybe they were younger than he thought?

"Well..." The woman started, visibly struggling to think up something they can do to keep him from revealing the dungeon. He could practically see the moment she came to the only conclusion possible in this situation. Bribery. "If you can keep it a secret we can let you hunt with us."

"Really," Neron raised his brows as if surprised by the 'generosity.' The two men were making faces as if they had eaten something sour but they did not counterman her suggestion. By making it 'his' secret as well, they tied their wants with his. So they weren't completely stupid. Just thoughtless. Not that he would make it easy on them. "I do not want to impose. I was just interested in maybe buying a meal on my way south for me and my companions."

"Companions?" The tension in the trio rose again and they started 'subtly' looking around. Neron almost felt bad for teasing them.

Almost.

"Cuholy," Neron tilted his head to the side as he lowered his hood.

"Yes?" Cuholy asked cautiously, poking her head over his shoulder to get a good look at the three of them. At the sight of their weapons she let out a yip of fright and ducked behind his head again.

""Awwwwww!"" Both the woman and the man with the shield let out noises of appreciation at the sight of the fox, their stances fully softening. 

"So you're a Beast Master Nature?" The third member of their party had also relaxed somewhat, but kept his eyes on Neron suspiciously, perhaps even more so than before.

"Pretty much," Neron equivocated. "I am traveling with Cuholy here and Jorry. He is the snake sleeping in my bag. He can not handle the cold too well."

"The poor baby," the shield warrior muttered. "Come on, you can tell us more around the fire and let him warm up."

"I appreciate it," Neron nodded with a smile. "I am sorry, I did not get your names?"

"Oh, I'm Luca, this is my sister Belen and our friend Enzio."

"Nice to meet you," Neron greeted the trio as he approached the fire under the watchful eyes of all three. 

A small grill set out over a pit with slices of sizzling meat set out over them. They were a touch too dark by this point, the cook being distracted by his arrival, but Belen hurried to flip them and the other two took seats on a toppled trunk while Neron sat across from them on a protruding rock. It was covered in damp moss but he'd dealt with worse over the last few months.

Setting his pack down, Cuholy leaping down to position herself behind him, Neron looked around the camp site. It was in a little valley where four hills met, the trees towering over them to give them some cover from the rain. They'd set up a three tents, not dissimilar from his own if smaller, in a divot between two of the hills and, opposite the tents, one of hills had a hole large enough to for a human to pass through.

"Is that the dungeon," Neron asked, nodding toward the crevice as he warmed his hands by the fire. The ease with which he moved and talked, the relaxed atmosphere he made sure to present, did more to relax the trio than any reassurance.

"Yep," Belen nodded, looking over the thin slabs of meat and adding another two to the grill from a bundle of paper. "Of course it's not the entrance the monsters use, that's a while away but Enzio Sculpted us this way to connect to their tunnels." 

Neron nodded in appreciation. At least they weren't stupid enough to use the same path as the monsters used for food.

"Do you know any of the basic seven?" Enzio asked.

"All seven," Neron nodded easily. "But only to the degree of use, and not for battle. I have not had time to edit them or specialize."

"Wow, that's more than En," Luca smiled at his friend, who didn't seem nearly as happy for the comparison. "He's a Mage Nature so he knows all of them except Scab. Me and Bel know Spring, Scrub, and Shine and she knows Spark while I got Scab."

"Does Cuholy like her food cooked or raw?" Belen asked as she held up a raw cut of meat. "And can she handle spices?"

"I do not know," Neron admitted, looking over his shoulder at the cowering fox. "Do you have a preference?" Cuholy looked up at him in confusion.

"Um," she hesitated eyes shifting between him to the others around the fire. "I... don't know?" She blinked and tilted her head, her face a picture of canine confusion. "I thought we weren't supposed to reveal we had a self around others?"

"Do you mind if we try one of each," Neron asked with an awkward smile, turning back to the woman and ignoring the fox's question. "If you want I can pay? I do not have much but it should be enough for the meat."

"It's fine," Belen shook her head and tossed the bloody piece to the cowering canine. It landed in the dirt near Neron's feet. Cuholy did not move forward to grab it. "We have plenty and we'll get more with every kill."

"How is it," Luca asked, leaning forward. "Being a therianthrope I mean. I was planning to become one too but I heard its super disorienting."

"It can be," Neron agreed, kicking the food behind him for the fox to reach. "It is different for everyone, depending on what animal you resemble. Honestly, it is the side effect of my first Nature skill that is the main problem for me." To demonstrate, Neron stuck out his forked tongue, flickering it in the air. The trio looked surprised. "It gives me some tricks from my beasts but it is not really useful in combat."

"So you became a fox therianthrope and found a fox? And a snake?" Enzio asked, suspicion coloring his voice. "While still being low level? Must have happened pretty quickly."

"God's Nature is my first game," Neron shrugged, pretending not to notice the suspicion. "I basically wandered around lost. You know how the Calderine Sanctuary has those recruiters?" They nodded. They were low level themselves and thus had to have started in Calderine. "One of them helped me out getting settled. I actually ran into Cuholy here by accident on my travels. She stuck with me because we can communicate to a degree." Neron paused, pretended to realize something, and hurried to add. "Not that she is a monster or anything, but there is a certain level of alertness that comes with a an animal and therianthrope matching."

They seemed to buy it, which was disappointing. Then again, if he could make this a longer lasting scheme, the chance for a favorable outcome was more likely.

"Where are you going?"

"I wanted to see the Bone Wall."

"Really?"

"Well, it is something impossible in real life right? Really fantastical. I figured it was worth a look."

Neron let his eyes go vacant slightly and smile turn to one of wonder, as if imagining the sight even now. The trio shared a few looks, those little moments where long term friends could communicate whole sentences. He pretended not to notice.

From his first appearance Neron had focused on being open, relaxed, and portraying the image of a new Player without anything to be suspicious about. They didn't have a choice in admitting him to their circle less he reveal the truth, but he deliberately framed it as something 'Kaisar' wouldn't do and just a concern they had. 'Kaisar' was open and lacked a duplicitous bone in his body. He obviously had no ties to established guilds because he was completely new to games and traveling alone. Their internal narrative had shifted from 'someone found our secret and is threatening us' to 'a Noob found us and we can use him.' And all with a minimum of lies.

"If you want to get that far south you're going to want to at least be a Gimp," Luca said kindly. "What level are you?"

"Twenty seven," Neron sighed. "My Nature does not really give me combat options. But we are pretty good at avoiding trouble. Cuholy here can hear monsters coming and Jorry, when he is awake, is also very good at following trails. We have made do."

"Still, it is dangerous once you pass the last villages," Belen insisted. "Twenty seven is low, really low, for anywhere near the Wall." Neron shrugged as if to say 'what can you do.' "How about you help us with the dungeon? We could use someone like you."

"Really?"

"Of course," Luca nodded happily. "You said it yourself, we need someone who can keep watch and you can help Sculpt the tunnels. Even if you're not doing most of the fighting you should still get plenty of experience by helping the party. You'll be gimped in no time."

"Are you sure?" Neron asked. "Dungeons are pretty dangerous right? I have only completed a survival Hall and do not have much experience. I would hate to get in your way."

"This one isn't to risky," Enzio shrugged proudly. "So long as you do what we say, you'll be fine."

"The monsters aren't too tough either," Belen nodded toward a mound of discolored dirt. Possibly where they buried to bodies to not attract predators. "They're giant Coati. Think raccoons that reach your chest... or I guess waist in your case. They have sharp claws but they can't get past my brother's shield."

Neron remained silent for a long moment, as if thinking it over. Then he slowly nodded.

"If you really do not mind then I would love to work with you."

"Perfect," Luca smiled, holding out a hand for him to shake. Neron took it. "Welcome to the party."

"Thank you for having us."

"Speaking of," Belen peered around Neron to look at the fox who'd already finished her food. "Is it alright if I pet your fox?"

Neron gave the warmest smile yet.

"If you give her more food I can not imagine she will stop you. The way to her heart is through her stomach and if you do it enough I am certain you will become the best of friends."

Neron would make sure of it.

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