Chương 18: A Roar in the Jungle

They spent the night there in the bug-strewn hovel, so unwilling was Elias to tear himself away from the newly discovered alchemy bench. He tinkered, he fiddled, he messed about with the few ingredients he had. Eventually, he realized that he was severely limited by his lack of those ingredients. He resolved to take his foraging and plant gathering much more seriously, and he kicked himself for not doing more of that as he'd been traipsing through the jungle all this time.

Hindsight was twenty-twenty, but as a scientist he should have taken more pains to study the flora of this new world. In the end, he'd made three basic bombs. Then, he managed to concoct something called a flashboom with the leftover charge lichen and the last of the fleetcap mushrooms Goggs had given him. But his other efforts ended up being a tad more … pedestrian.

Fiona, although she complained briefly about missing out on the night's expected ale, had eventually settled into a clean area of the hovel and built herself a small campfire. She sat there for the better part of the evening, humming different tunes, roasting the breast of a wild bird she'd caught on a stick. Sometimes she would burst into song. Though her verses seemed unsure, maybe even hesitant. It was as if she were experimenting and working out the best harmonies.

Merlyn sat next to her, panting happily and howling along whenever a song reached its crescendo.

"I think I need an instrument," she said, coming to peek over Elias' shoulder.

"You want a bite?" she asked, extending a piece of the roast bird far too close to his equipment. He was so entranced by the possibilities inherent in the alchemy bench, her words barely registered. But when she spoke again, more insistently this time, he turned and wiped at his eyes.

"I'm thinking maybe a lute," she went on, shrugging and extending the leftover bird towards Merlyn, who gobbled it up noisily.

"Or some kind of woodwind. But I can't think where I would find a thing like that, out in this crazy jungle. Any ideas, brainiac?"

"Yeah … let me think about it." She shrugged and went back down to the fire, where she was soon fast asleep, curled up against the white wolf to stay warm. Elias stayed at the alchemy bench experimenting with various concoctions until his eyes grew heavy and his head began to nod. Then he too lay down near the fire and fell into a deep slumber.

The next morning he was woken by a monstrous call echoing through the jungle. There was a pink sun pouring in through the holes in the thatch roof, making for a completely different atmosphere. Nostalgic with just a tinge of romance. But whatever vibe the pink light cultivated was wrecked by another barbarous call from out in the jungle. Perhaps it was more of a roar, really—something like you would hear a hippo make when a lion sinks its fangs right into its flank.

At first, Elias imagined the sound could simply be some kind of tropical thunder of the type conjured up by a violent summer storm. But another listen soon robbed him of that hopeful notion. The call was so demanding, insistent, almost forlorn. And it could only be coming from something very, very large. Elias shivered to himself as he imagined what kind of creature could make such a bellow. Or maybe that was just the ground trembling below him. Merlyn heard it too, and let out a single woof. But Fiona slept on.

Watching her slumber there, despite the calls of the monstrous creature, inspired Elias to experiment with something he had come up with last night. After he'd rekindled the small flame on the alchemy bench, and pitched in a few of the ingredients he'd scrounged the previous evening, a strong brew began to percolate in the Erlenmeyer. He'd made coffee. OK, maybe it wasn't Colombian dark roast. Maybe it was only the rather bitter brew of some random jungle beans. But it was warm and reminded him of the real thing.

And it did not kill you or make you sick, he had learned that through many trials. It had taken him the better part of two hours of testing various plants and herbs, several of which had poisoned him, to come up with this particular blend. Thankfully, every time he'd found himself doubled over in stomach pain, he had just the remedy. Were it not for his regeneration spell, things could have gone very differently, indeed. The mind reeled at all of the possibilities this world offered.

Fiona began to sniff at the air before she was even fully awake. This, then, was Elias' reward for the long night spent tinkering.

"Is that what I think it is?" she asked, blinking awake. But just then, the monstrous howl tore through the jungle once again, and Fiona lurched up on her feet with a jolt, eyes darting around the hovel.

"Relax. Whatever is making that noise has to be pretty far away," he said, sticking a cup of the brew in her hands.

"Try this."

"Holy crap," she said, smelling it greedily.

"I know it's not a cappuccino, but—""It is amazing!" she said, downing the rest of it in a few hearty gulps. Then she sighed, sitting down cross-legged and cuddling up to Merlyn.

"I suppose I would probably enjoy it a lot more if there wasn't a blightmaw coming for his yearly visit."

"What do you mean? That's the blightmaw?" You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

"Yup."

"And it comes … every year?"

"I mean, who knows what passes for a year in these parts. I'm pretty sure we have eight different suns. But it comes regular like, every once in a while. What do you think happened to this town here? At least, that is my best guess."

"What does it … do?" She took a long slug of the coffee, eyes closed as she relished it.

"I haven't been here long enough to deal with one personally. But they say it has certain … demands. Flesh, buildings, all of the food and resources folks have been laboring away to collect all season. And the one thing it likes most of all is echo coins."

"The monster wants money?"

"Can I have another cup of that?" she asked, extending the glass beaker.

"Sure."

"That's just what they say," she went on.

"Could be a wives' tale for all I know. The Fireknights like to go on about it. About how they are going to put a stop to its routine rampages. Yada yada yada, cue the empty male bravado once the drinks are flowing."

"And have they ever fought it?" She just raised an eyebrow at him over the lip of her flask.

"Let's get going. Your coffee is great but I think you owe me something a bit stronger. Along with a lot of braggadocios tales told at full volume. The only way to deal with obnoxious bravado is to one up it, after all."

"OK, but … How sure are we that we can get back to this spot again?"

"We?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. This caused him to dig the toe of his shoe into some of the bug detritus.

"Well … me. I mean, unless you wanted to come." She punched him in the shoulder.

"Perfect heading," she said.

"Always trust a bard's sense of direction." She laughed as she made her way outside into the pink sunlight.

A few hours later, the three of them were walking into the inn. It seemed to be around lunchtime, with the Fireknights all gathered around a long table slurping down what looked like some kind of a stew. The men at the table eyed Merlyn with wide-eyed suspicion, like they'd never seen a ghostly pet before. Elias hoped there was some fear mingled in there as well, particularly after he noticed the bully he'd had that run in with the first time. Brock, was it?

The man leered at him from the table, showing that he had not forgotten their earlier head-butting session, either. The kindly innkeeper lit up as they approached. He smiled, he grinned, he let out a friendly peal of laughter. Finally, he stuck his arms out and guided them towards two of the best barstools in the house.

"Welcome back!" he said, pouring them two tall horns full of the delicious ale. Elias took a moment to savor it, keeping one corner of his eye in the direction of the Fireknights. They seemed to be ignoring Elias for the moment, thankfully, and were seriously focused on the stew. He could hear them slurping it up from across the room, as if they hadn't eaten in days.

"How went the quest?" the innkeeper asked, his eyes expectant.

"Oh … yes, here are a few bags of the grain you wanted," Elias said, fishing the heavy things out of his inventory and putting them on the bar. # You have completed a quest. Your reputation in Cinderleaf has increased! You are now a Whelp. You can accept quests from the main quest hub in the center of town. # Well that was certainly good news. Elias made a mental note to return to the quest board once he'd refreshed himself for a while.

The innkeeper seemed delighted at first, but the more he inspected the bags of grain, the more grim his features became.

"These have been … blighted," he finally said, as if it was some awful diagnosis.

"Yeah … about that," Fiona started. But her explanation was cut short. Elias felt a finger jabbing into his back and turned to see Brock, the biggest and most annoying of the Fireknights, standing there and looking down his nose at him.

"Not this again," Elias said.

"What do you want?" Merlyn emitted a low growl, but did nothing for the moment. Brock seemed to take the warning seriously, and took a step back.

"I thought that was you," he said to Elias.

"Nothing gets by that steel trap of a mind."

"I haven't seen the pair of you around. What have you two been off doing? Skulking around in the jungle sniffing vines?"

"He actually did sniff a few vines," Fiona said, unable to stifle a bit of a laugh.

"We were actually fighting monsters. Huge, ravenous, salivating wolves with a sports fetish. Fighting and winning, I might add. Fiona here is quite the warrior," he said.

"You should have seen how she … got the better of those canine jocks."

"Is that so?" Brock said, giving Fiona a once over. It came off more like a creepy leer, and she scrunched her nose up at him.

"She doesn't look like a warrior." Fiona shifted in her seat. Elias turned to try and ignore the man, hoping to enjoy his much-deserved horn of ale.

"I don't suppose you two went slinking about in Old Cinderleaf?" Brock asked. he had one eye on the blighted grain bags. The other Fireknights had gathered around now, backing him up. Their white tabards were stained with ale and bits of the stew.

"As a matter of fact, we did," Fiona said.

"And woe betide those creatures that stood in our way. By the end, we basically had the run of the place." Elias winced. There was some kind of intuition niggling at him. Something in him that didn't think it wise to let these troublesome bullies find out about his secret alchemy bench. He tried to cut Fiona off before she could elaborate.

"Yeah … Fiona here gutted at least three wolves. And a bunch of these giant cockroaches. You should have seen her swinging her mighty blade. A masterclass in badassary." Brock did not look very impressed by the words. He huffed. He stuck his chest out, and Elias could see the cogs slowly turning in the giant's mind. He half wondered if that flaming sword might make another appearance.

"Old Cinderleaf is off-limits," he finally said, with a heavy finality to his tone.

"Says who?" Fiona shot back.

"The Fireknight Guild, that's who," said a voice from behind Brock. The other men seemed to all chime in at once, as if affirming that their leader's strange assertion was correct.

"Stay away!" demanded one of them.

"No vine sniffers in the ruins!" shouted another. They were starting to sound quite aggressive.

"It is a sacred place!" Elias could feel Merlyn begin to bristle at his side.

"Why would you want to keep us away from some old piles of stone?" asked Elias. Brock hesitated. The giant's hand seemed to drift towards the hilt of his sword. There was an uncertain glint in his eye though, maybe even a flash of fear.

"That's enough!" shouted the bartender, slamming his open palm down on the bar. It seemed to surprise everyone. The innkeeper was usually so meek and soft spoken. The way his voice now boomed in a commanding tone had caused a silence to fall over the inn.

"We don't have time for this!" he continued, pointing emphatically at the ruined grain bags sitting on the bar.

"As you can clearly hear from the roar out in the jungle, the blightmaw approaches. We have to stop this petty squabbling and prepare." All eyes had turned now. As if to drive home the point, they heard a sound in this new silence. It was the bestial roaring. Once again, it came echoing out of the jungle. It was faint and far away, but undeniable. The Fireknights seemed to recognize it. The shoulders of the men seemed to slacken, and even Brock withered a bit.

"We don't have much time," repeated the innkeeper.

"Have no fear barkeep," said Brock.

"The Fireknights have always been able to satisfy the blightmaw, and this time will be no different." But there was something in Brock's eyes that said otherwise.