Monster Hunting 401: A LitRPG Fantasy Adventure by Andrew Karevik (book suggestions .TXT) 📗

Chapter 17

Eckshaw—the armored man—led me and Trig through the dark forest, speaking very rarely. His companions scattered ahead of us, into the darkness to ready the village for our arrival. Their green torches did glow, but were hard to see in the dark past a certain point. Certainly a useful item for stealth.

The village wasn’t terribly far from our own camp site, perhaps a mile or so at the most. Distances were really the first casualty upon entering this forest, but we were working out a simple measuring system. I had taken a particularly long stick and thrust it through my belt, so that it would drag across the ground as we walked. This let me keep track of our movements, while also allowing us to continue concealing our footprints. A drag on the ground was hard to spot unless you were looking for it.

Great braziers made of stone lined up the edge of the village, green flames rising up from them, illuminating the entire area in a pale green glow. From twenty feet out, we couldn’t see them, but once within the radius of the light itself, the flames were instantly visible, as well as the rest of the village. It was like a form of invisibility, in a way. One moment the village was hidden, the next it was visible, plain as day.

“Wow,” Trig said as he came into range. He had taken to follow us a few feet behind, to make sure no one tried to get the jump on us. It didn’t matter that we both had extrasensory perception abilities, his paranoia had grown quite strong. Then again, paranoia was justifiable in these kinds of situations.

The village was constructed out of wood, with leaves lining up the roofs. These leaves were black and gnarled, ugly and twisted, pasted together in all directions to give each home its privacy. The huts themselves looked well crafted, professionally designed and relatively spacious. Each hut had several windows, a chimney and two doors, one in the front and one in the back. Inside of each home I could see people eating and talking, sleeping or doing chores. No one seemed to care about us, the two strangers entering their village.

This nonchalance at visitors was alarming. Everywhere I had been, villages were usually freaked out to find other survivors. They were worried, excited or worse, looking for an opportunity to take from another tribe. But here, our presence was business as usual. And that did not feel right to me. How could these people be so calm at strangers visiting in a dark place, where a shadow creature consumed those without light instantly? There was no possible way visitors were commonplace.

I decided to test Eckshaw, to see what I could glean from his words. “You have visitors often?” I asked.

He shook his head as he led us towards the largest hut in the center of the village. This hut was surrounded by braziers, the flames dancing in all directions, casting an eternal green light across the walls. “Just the hunters that come in from time to time. They arrive, offer some kind of service in exchange for lodging and then vanish without a trace.”

“How many come by?” I continued as we stopped in front of the great brass door of the central hut. While this building was indeed made out of wood and adorned with black leaves, the door was made from the same material as the braziers. How very curious.

“A few, here and there. We don’t bother tracking time in this realm,” Eckshaw replied. “We sleep when we tire, we eat when we hunger. Time more or less is of no consequence here. So who can say when they came and when they left?”

An odd line. They didn’t track time? That made no sense. Even underground, where we lived in perpetual darkness, we found a way to track the passage of time. How would they get anything done otherwise? Or even know who the elders were? I didn’t buy it. But I held my tongue, knowing that it wasn’t worth getting into an argument right now.

“Here is where the Eldest lives,” Eckshaw mumbled, placing an armored hand against the brass doorknocker. It was a round handle, though the metal seemed quite banged up, having seen much better days in the past. “I cannot enter, for I am one of the shamed armorbearers. You two may speak to her alone. She has been expecting you.”

I glanced at Trig who shot me a worried look. Entering alone was a bit worrisome but at the same time, we were both superhuman Venators. What could these people possibly do to us? With a shrug, I motioned for him to follow as the door slowly creaked open, inviting us inside.

The green lights from the outside seemed to seep through the matted leaf ceiling, creating little pockets of light in the otherwise pitch black room. The large hut had nothing within it, no shelves, no bookcases nor office furniture. There were no walls to separate rooms. Nothing but darkness and a few patches of green light here and there. Nothing except for the Eldest.

She was sitting in the shadows, her body avoiding all light within the area. The darkness seemed to cling to her, creating only a mere silhouette of a massive woman. She was fat and tall, far taller than a human should be.

“Welcome, hunters,” the woman said, her speech slow and ponderous, as if speaking each word was a struggle. They did not flow out eloquently. “I have been waiting for you for some time.” The words were strangely disconnected from one another, as if she had no understanding of grammar or speech patterns. The delivery was mechanical. Inhuman.

At once, I raised my bow and Trig his blades. The enormous woman in the shadows emitted a raspy chuckle and began to move forward, towards us. A skittering accompanied her