The first clue they got that the team was approaching this farm was a trap. Raith came up behind him Silas as the [Ranger] squatted down, closely inspecting something on the ground. As he grew closer, the ring from Willoughby vibrated on his finger, causing him to jump and nearly yell out loud.
Weaver’s tits. I forgot about that thing. At least now I know it works.
He paused a few feet back, not sure where this trap was.
“Can I come up there?”
Silas looked over his shoulder and gave a nod.
“You can come up even with me, but don’t go past. I’m still trying to figure out what this is.”
Peering over Silas’ shoulder, Raith was very careful to stay slightly behind the [Ranger]. Much like before, this patch of dirt and leaves looked like any other to him.
“What, exactly, are you seeing here that indicates a trap?”
Silas had been cordial since Raith’s apology, but he wasn’t sure if asking for scouting lessons was a pushing things too far. The [Ranger] looked up at him, considering the question for a long moment before coming to a decision.
“Tracking and trap detection have a lot in common, especially out here in the wilds. The question you need to keep asking yourself over and over is: How did it get like that?”
He shifted his foot and reached down to pick up fallen leaf. It was damp, brown, and partially decayed. He offered it to Raith.
“See the crease? That big diagonal fold?”
Raith looked, and sure enough about a third of the leaf was folded over like a piece of paper. He nodded and handed it back. Silas looked at him expectantly.
“So how did it get like that?”
“How would I know?”
Silas frowned and shook his head.
“Think about it for a second. Do leaves grow with creases in them? Do they spontaneously crease after they fall from a tree? How could that fold possibly have gotten there?”
“Someone stepped on it?”
The bright smile he got from Silas gave him the same warm glow he remembered as a kid in the lorehall.
“Exactly. And that’s all we’re doing. You keep a baseline of what your environment should look like if it were undisturbed, and if anything deviates from that baseline, you stop and ask how it got like that. See a broken twig: How did it get like that? Hints of a pattern in the dirt: How did it get like that? A stone knocked from its socket in the ground: How did it get like that? Sometimes the answer is a deer or a bird rooting around in the brush. Sometimes it’s trolls or a bog beast.”
He gestured in front of them, and Raith finally noticed a stretch of leaves that were very slightly raised in a line that went on for several feet. Much too straight to be a stick lying beneath the ground cover.
“And sometimes it’s a trap.”
Raith shook his head in amazement.
“I never would have noticed that if you hadn’t pointed it out. Do you have a perception [Skill]?”
“[Trap Sense] and [Danger Sense] let me know something is there. Nothing that helps me visually locate it, though. Just lots of practice. What else can you see now that you know where the trap is? Start by considering what the baseline should be, then see what’s different.”
[Life in Staccato]
This was a perfect application for his [Divine Skill], allowing him all the time he needed to carefully evaluate the environment. Silas was a surprisingly good teacher, and Raith was slightly giddy at the chance to fulfill a small slice of his childhood dream to become a [Ranger]. Learning the basics of trap detection was also obviously hugely useful.
Presumably, that was a rope beneath the leaves. Whatever was at the end closest to them was beyond his ability to discern, but at the other end he caught a glimpse of something at the base of a nearby tree.
Focusing on the spot, he could finally pull out the pattern of fibers and unique color of beige that indicated that it was, in fact, a rope. There was just a sliver showing that he could see from this perspective, but it was unmistakable.
He ended the [Skill] and pointed.
“There’s a bit of rope peeking out of the leaves as it runs behind the tree over there.”
Another smile from Silas.
“Very good! You found that really quickly. You would have made an excellent [Ranger].”
Raith was embarrassed by the praise, feeling like he sort of cheated with his [Skill].
“Yeah, but I have no idea what’s right in front of us, though. There must be something at this end of the rope, right?”
“Yes, but don’t feel bad. I can’t see it either, which is what I was trying to figure out when you came up. The fact that I can’t see it tells us two things. First, it is at least slightly sunk down, probably in a deliberate effort to conceal the trap. Second, it’s been there a while. All the leaves here are thoroughly settled by wind and rain, and aren’t noticeably different from the baseline.”
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“So what should we do?”
“My advice is to go around. This was presumably placed by the farmer we’re supposed to meet, and folks usually don’t take kindly to people setting off their traps for no good reason.”
Raith agreed, and they guided the team in a wide arc around where they had found the trap. For the next couple of hours, Silas tolerated Raith breathing down his neck and asking a lot of questions about every little detail of the woods they traveled through. The further they traveled, the more frequently they encountered traps. It was excellent training, but there were enough that Raith became worried about the state of paranoia that would motivate someone to place so many.
Further out, the traps were large enough for men and monsters, but the closer ones seemed targeted for smaller prey. A number of them had been sprung, but were mysteriously devoid of any sign of victims. Raith was thrilled to spot several of them before the [Ranger], although the ensuing praise still felt undeserved as he constantly used [Staccato].
“There’s a corn field up ahead,” Silas advised.
After seeing the alarming number of traps, and the fact that this farmer was probably not accustomed to visitors, Raith decided that the wisest course of action was to make their presence very obvious rather than risk surprising a dangerous man. He cupped his hands to his mouth and called out.
“Hello! The Owlriders said you may be willing to lend a hand to our adventuring team!”
A moment later, the corn began to loudly rustle, as though a great beast moved through the crops. The team took a nervous step back as the noise grew closer, placing hands on weapons but not drawing them.
A deep grunt and snort emerged from the foliage, and that proved too much for their nerves. Thea’s shield came off her back and Silas’s bow appeared with an arrow knocked, although he kept it pointed towards the ground. Tolliver moved behind Thea, preparing to cast a spell or transform and fly off, depending on what sprung forth.
The rows of corn finally push aside to reveal the largest boar Raith had ever seen. It had to weigh more than their entire team combined, and astride the enormous beast sat a heavily muscled dwarf holding a gigantic war axe.
The dwarf was absolutely filthy, from his thick, matted, wild brown hair to his tattered clothing. A waft of body odor made it to Raith’s nose, and he had to make a conscious effort not to gag. Somehow the pig was the clean one of this pair.
They looked at each other in silence, and for a moment Raith feared the scowling dwarf would attack. But then he spoke.
“I don’t like cunting visitors.”
It took a moment to figure out what he said. Thickly accented, the dwarf’s voice was deep and rough, clearly not accustomed to being used. Once he sorted out the words, Raith wasn’t sure what to do with that information.
“Yes, well, we’re very sorry to intrude, sir. We were hoping you might have a barn we could stay in for the night. Perhaps information on where to find the closest river crossing. We plan to be out of your hair come first light.”
Raith inwardly winced at the thought of what might be living in this man’s hair, but tried to keep his expression bland and pleasant. At least this time, he remembered not to try a fake smile. It still stung a little to recall Terra saying it looked like he had the Grins.
The dwarf moved his enormous weapon from one shoulder to the other, swinging it with effortless strength. Raith gulped as he imagined that thing cleaving towards him.
“Ye haven’t got any of those knife eared, fancy boy cunts with you?”
He peered at each of them suspiciously. The scowling gaze lingered on Nyhm for just a moment before narrowed eyes searched the woods behind them.
“Uh, no sir. Just us. Again, I’m terribly sorry about all this. Our ship wrecked on the river and we’re just passing through on our way to Old Valen.”
“Bah! Boats,” he spat to the side. “Cities!” he spat again and glowered. “What do you think, Bernhold?”
Raith looked around in alarm, wondering who the dwarf was talking to before he realized it was the boar. Bernhold, for his part, did not seem to be interested in offering an opinion.
“Well, Bernhold don’t object to you wee folk smelling up me barn for the night.”
Before anyone had a chance to cut him off, Tolliver burst out.
“Us smelling up your barn? Have you smelled yourself?”
They all froze, and the dwarf’s eyebrows arched impressively at the [Mage]. Tolliver gulped, but thrust his chin in the air defiantly. Everyone held their breath until the Farmer burst out laughing in a bray that sounded like a donkey with a throat full of rocks. Bernhold seemed to like the sound, shuffling around and adding a couple of snorts to the raucous laughter.
“I like that pale one,” he said, patting the boar solidly on the flank. “Come on then.”
He gestured for them to follow and brought the great beast about to head back into the corn.
“I’m Raith, by the way. And this is…”
“I don’t care what your cunting names are. And you’ll not get mine either, so don’t bother asking.”
“Uh, ok. What should we call you?”
“I don’t give a shite what you call me.” He stopped Bernhold and looked over his shoulder. “Except for elf. If ye call me an elf I’ll cut you in half and leave your strewn entrails for the crows.”
“Noted. The halflings called you Farmer. Why don’t we just go with that.”
The dwarf gave a nod and moved on, leading them through the thick rows of corn. They had to move single file, and Raith found himself in the front of the team, right behind the smelly Farmer. The high plants didn’t allow for a breeze, and Raith tried to take shallow breaths which didn’t seem to help much.
Silas tapped him on the shoulder and nodded to their right. With a little training now under his belt, Raith could see that one row over a cleverly hidden spiked board was set to spring into any unsuspecting intruders. He was suddenly very glad to have the stinky dwarf leading them safely through.
They emerged from the corn into a large vegetable garden with a wide path down the center leading towards a small stone house and wooden barn. Raith only recognized about a third of the plants, but they’d probably look more familiar prepared on a plate.
“Stay on the path and don’t be steppin’ on me vegetables.”
They arrived outside the barn and Farmer gestured towards it with a meaty, dirt covered hand.
“That’s where you’ll sleep. I’ve got work yet to do this day and my eternal foe awaits. Do what you’d like but stay the feck out of me house and out of me garden. I’ll be back for evening meal, which I’ll share if ye haven’t given me cause to murder the lot of you.”
With that, he whacked Bernhold’s flank and trotted off, leaving the Seekers to let out a deep breath of relief, and then draw in a clean one for the first time since this encounter began.
Tolliver was the first to speak.
“Eternal foe? That man is a lunatic.”
Everyone chuckled, glad to relieve some of the lingering nervous tension.
“I don’t think any sane person would live out here alone like this,” Silas answered, and the others agreed.
“I wonder why he’s doing it,” Raith mused.
Thea gave a snort.
“You can be the one to ask him.”
“Yeah, that’s definitely not going to happen. Let’s go rest for a little while before he comes back. Anyone want to take a guess on what he considers dinner?”
Everyone groaned at the thought, and Thea gave him a playful shove. He smiled at her and she smiled back. Raith realized she hadn’t done that since the fight on the river, and something in his heart unclenched in relief.
His friend was back.
