《Beastkin of GRIM》Chapter 2: Healer
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Alphonse hunkered down near an outcropping of rock and observed the wide expanse of the cavern. A number of paths extended from the walls, with webs of narrow suspension bridges crossed above to connect multiple ledges. Pairs of goblins stood watch with ranged weapons, waiting for any foolish adventurers to pass by.
He enhanced his perception and noticed that most of the creatures had stubs for ears rather than the typical long, pointed ones. As luck would have it, the stubby ones stood on the platforms closest to his side of the area. His improved vision also painted some inclines with yellow and red splotches to indicate trodden areas at various time intervals.
A series of connected fissures dotted the flat landscape leading to the opposite side of the cavern - his party's destination. A short tunnel branched off and led deeper into the dungeon. The fodder enemies avoided the area beyond due to a large reptilian creature known as a Migunne setting up house.
The leathery skin of this monster was excellent for crafting material used to carry liquid poisons and acids. It was a nice commodity for almost every class in this world. Maybe it wasn't especially helpful for a mage, but whatever portion he/she received from the loot sold for a decent price on the market. For Alphonse, being a scout specialist, this material worked well to compliment his critical hit damage. Hitting a vital spot on an enemy made poison far more potent.
He counted the number of goblins on watch. They didn't need any sort of alarm to alert their fellow monsters. Just a shout was enough to echo throughout the dungeon. It wasn't the goblins themselves that worried him, but the ogres sleeping in an adjacent chamber.
And that's why his party decided to recruit him as a scout. Scouts were quiet, agile and disabled enemies with silent lethality.
Alphonse heard his comrades shift impatiently behind him.He heard one of them whisper, “You sure about this guy?”
Another voice answered, “Trust me, he's good.”
“We've been sitting here ten minutes.”
A new voice, this one female, “There's no rush. We need to conserve our items for the monster.”
The irritated man who spoke first spit at the ground. “Fine, whatever.”
Alphonse felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned and saw it was his friend, Alex, not the disgruntled fellow disturbing his thought-process. He used the term loosely, but they'd been together since their first two dungeon explorations and a decent amount before entering Hovestile.
The other two members of their party were native adventurers, original denizens of Hovestile.
The big man gave him a curious look.
Alphonse decided to oblige him. “The types of goblins near us can't hear well. You can tell by their ears." He pointed at the patrols. "You three take the side path. I'll sneak to the other side and deal with the ones that have better hearing.”
The woman inched closer so she could hear the conversation. “Why don't we just ignore the goblins and use the fissures?” She pointed at the wide cracks stretching across in front of them.
Alphonse shook his head. “Those aren't natural. I guarantee there's a Manta Worm sliding around down there. They aren't hostile, but their skin is toxic. I'm the only one with enough poison resistance to sit with them and sneak by.”
The young man with the longbow smirked. “Heh, for an outworlder, you know your shit.”
Alphonse gave him a thumbs up. “Well, I am the scout.”
Alex ran a hand through his stubble of a beard as he considered the situation. “So we deal with the goblins that are hard of hearing, and you'll go to the opposite side and kill the other ones.”
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“Right, but wait for me to strike first.”
They all nodded their assent.
With that last affirmation, Alphonse pressed himself against his cover and moved in a running crouch to another position. He held up his hand and observed the goblins wandering above. He waited until they broke line of sight and waved his party members forward. They rushed to the indicated path and went prone behind a short wall of stone. They proceeded to army crawl along the path with the wall obscuring them from sight.
Alphonse watched as the goblins continued their patrol away from him. The ones on the ledges didn't have a clear view in his direction. It was like playing a stealth game. The monsters weren't all that bright and had poor vision. They probably expected anyone passing by to take the open, flat area. Surely no adventurer could survive the toxins emitted from the manta worm in the fissure. So they thought.
The scout dropped into the first fissure and landed on top of a hard, shifting shell. Thin, barely discernible openings in the plating secreted a gooey, purple substance. A light smoke of similar hue emanated and danced lazy circles through the air. Long fins extended from its sides at regular intervals and latched on to the walls of the wide crevice. The tube-shaped creature didn't seem to notice or mind that someone was hitching a ride on its body.
Alphonse patted the worm's tough exterior with his gloved hand. Thanks, pal. Appreciate the ride.
The worm let out a low rumble as if it heard his thoughts.
It weaved through the connected cracks while carrying its occupant. When they reached the steep path on the other side, Alphonse jumped up and heaved himself over the edge. An overhang concealed his movements.
Alright, so far so good.
He glanced at the tunnel nearby. He found it amusing that he could technically leave right then and there. But it wasn't his style, and it defeated the whole purpose of being a scout. He also needed his party to help deal with the giant reptile. He was looking forward to crafting that pouch. Maybe there would be enough parts left over to sell so he could purchase a new dagger.
The path angled at a near-vertical incline and curved away from the cavern's center, all according to his plan. He patiently waited once again for an opening. Some goblins made their way back across the bridge after another few minutes. An opportunity presented itself when a pair of goblins on a ledge watched as the giant worm below slid down. It wrapped around and continued its lap through the fissure.
Alphonse climbed up, clamped a hand over a goblin's mouth and stabbed it through the chest with a dagger. The monster didn't struggle for long as its body submitted to death. He laid the body on the ground gently, pulled the second goblin that wandered too far ahead behind a boulder and finished it off in similar fashion.
He still wasn't entirely used to the whole idea of killing, but it was a necessity in this world. As an adventurer who specialized in assassination, the kills were quick, clean and mostly devoid of prolonged suffering. No doubt the goblins were nasty, vicious creatures, but it made Alphonse feel better all the same.
He started moving towards the next pair of watchers when he saw his party just outside his periphery. The goblins on their side kept a lazy watch, yawning and scratching their bellies, oblivious to what befell their fellow monsters. Alphonse's timing had been perfect. When he made his assigned killings, the goblins on the bridge reached the other side almost simultaneously.
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He frowned when a few seconds passed with no activity. The goblins looked down at the mantis worm as it crawled up another side and broke a chunk off the cliff. One of them pointed and let out a high-pitched cackle as its fellow threw a rock that collided harmlessly against the worm's shell.
The hell? Alphonse wondered what was taking his comrades so long.
His question was answered when he saw the tip of an arrow poking out between two tall slabs of rock. At first, he thought that something really was amiss. He noticed the direction of the arrow angle towards him. Alphonse looked to his side expecting an enemy ambush. He crouched down and lifted his dagger to deflect an incoming strike, but all he saw was the empty air.
Wait...what?
The faint twang of a bowstring reached his ears. The arrow embedded in the wall a few yards from him. Alphonse saw tiny flashes accompanied with dotted shadows. The sparks crawled towards the base of the arrowhead where a small cylinder was attached.
He realized what was happening at the last second.
The arrow exploded and splashed debris that consumed Alphonse's sight. The force threw him back, and he was redirected through the air as his leg glanced off a boulder. It was a painful blessing, for it allowed his frantically grasping fingers to brush the rope railing for one of the suspension bridges. Two fingers managed to curl around and his gloves protected him from the sharp bristles.
Shit! Shit!
He pulled himself up with the aid of his momentum and fell into a roll as the sword of a goblin dug into the wooden supports. He brought his dagger up and thrust it under the goblin's chin. A back kick sent another enemy careening over the railing to the ground far below.
During this brief respite, Alphonse saw his party members had broken cover and sprinted below. A pair of ogres emerged from the tunnel they'd recently left and began their pursuit.
But it wasn't the enemies that caught his attention. It was the look on the archer's face. He noticed Alphonse as he began to pull up his hood. The hint of a sneer crept along his face.
But what would sit with Alphonse forever was his friend's countenance. They locked eyes for only a second. Alphonse thought he caught a glimpse of an apology in the big man's eyes.
Why...?
Goblins poured from the openings at Alphonse's level. Most of the attention had been directed towards the explosion. And of course, he was the closest.
He made a break for the edge and drew his short sword. He parried a sloppy attack from his left and sliced the throat of another enemy to the right. He whirled about and finished off his first disoriented opponent with a stab through the stomach.
Alphonse was about to make his way down the steep path to regroup when he saw that the two ogres opted to give up pursuit of the trio that disappeared into the tunnel. The lone scout was much easier prey.
Alphonse slid to a stop and planted his feet to backtrack. He barrelled through a group of goblins taunting him with spears and sliced a hand off one monster that lingered to the rear. A downward strike from a rusty sword barely missed him, and he stabbed through the mouth of its wielder.
Another bridge extended to a position far left of where his party was meant to proceed according to his plan. He sprinted across and jumped to another suspension bridge that intersected below when more monsters attempted to bar his way. This direction led to another tunnel near the adjacent wall.
He cut the ropes tied to the outcroppings of rock that held the bridge in place and disappeared into the dark. The path fell into a steep decline without warning after only a few steps into the tunnel. Alphonse lost his footing and let out a short cry before he tumbled down the last few feet to the flat ground.
He shook his head to clear his fogged vision and fell into a stumbling sprint. A faint, thin ray of light beckoned to him further in the dark. It continued to expand as he drew closer.
Those remorseful eyes from his friend. That wicked sneer from the damned archer. He wouldn't forget either.
Alphonse reached up and grasped a hand that prodded him awake. The feelings brought out by the memory of the betrayal still lingered. His grip on the pale wrist was tighter than he intended as the emotions rushed through him, but the unknown hand did not retract.
Light. Bright light. He was unaccustomed to it after being trapped in the dungeon for so long.
The dungeon...
Alphonse rose with a start and instinctively reached for a weapon. His free hand grasped at nothing. The scabbard harboring his shortsword was empty. Actually, not even the scabbard remained. He descended into panic mode as his disbelieving fingers continued to search.
A hand pressed against his chest, and he might've grabbed this one as well if it hadn't been so reassuring and tender.
“At ease,” a voice whispered.
His hand froze. His eyes finally adapted to the light.
A room with smooth, stone walls came into focus. A supple, soft sensation pressed into his back as he eased down with the gentle insistence from whoever sat next to him.
He slowly turned and thought he saw a familiar face. When the full sharpness of sight returned he noticed that the one who sat next to him wasn't the catgirl he'd seen in the dungeon.
That's right...I was saved.
The girl observed him with a somber look. Her skin was paler - a milky, smooth white. The similar, spike-shaped markings were on her cheeks as well. The ears on top of her head were a dark red that poked through long, crimson hair that hung to her waist. Hazel eyes with thin pupils gave him a once-over.
She removed a wet towel from his forehead and replaced it with the palm of her hand. When she seemed satisfied, she retracted her hand into the wide sleeve of a white robe. Blue trimmings on the robe traced the contours of her body and met at a cross-shaped symbol near the chest area.
“Who...” Alphonse started. He eased himself up, slower this time. The girl didn't move to stop him.
He flinched as her cool hand pressed against his forehead again and lifted some of his messy brown hair.
“Yes, looks like your fever broke." She reached into a basket and procured a roll of bandages. “It gave you bad dreams. Your leg, please.”
Alphonse complied without a word. She undid the old bandages around his wounded leg and replaced them with fresh ones. Before she finished, he saw the tight sutures where he'd been impaled by the rock.
“You outworld adventurers have impressive health regeneration,” she said. The comment didn't seem directed at him.
She backed away when she finished. “Can you stand?”
Alphonse hesitantly swung his legs over the side of the bed and planted his feet as if the floor was made of nails. He shifted weight to his healthier leg and then over to his injured side. He winced as a sharp pain flared up. It only lasted for a second though. He managed a few steps with only a slight limp.
He let out a relieved laugh. “I-I think I'm good.”
The catgirl spoke in that solemn tone, “My name is Asa. My sister, Kirie, found you near death in the dungeon. She already informed me about those who betrayed you.” She paused and raised a finger to her lips as if she realized how insincere her words sounded. “I'm sorry.”
The girl seemed different from her sister. She still retained a similar blunt tone, but at least her words held a bit of sincerity. She also seemed rather absent-minded for someone so diligent with healing.
“It's alright. Thank you. Seriously. You both saved my life.” He bowed to show his deep appreciation, but also to hide the teary happiness.
“You're welcome.” She gave him a small smile. “Can you walk for a short while?”
“Um, yeah. I think so.”
She nodded. “Good. Please, follow me. Our mother has been waiting patiently for you.”
It took a moment for her last sentence to register. “Your mother?”
The catgirl didn't answer. She turned away and proceeded out of the room, the soft padding of her feet fading as she turned down a narrow hallway.
Alphonse looked around and noticed that the light source was from a wide depression in the ceiling. What light it filtered was beyond him, but he was understandably hesitant to leave the warmth. He'd just woken up, and already this catgirl had him up and about.
He lingered for a short time before following.
Where is this? What are these girls doing here?
He shook his head and willed the questions away. No doubt they would be answered soon.
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