The Hunter’s Guide to Monsters - Chapter 71

Krow tried not to look guilty. “Are you the owner of this field? Sorry about the mess.”

The bearded draculkar shook his head, sighed. “Don’t apologize. To survive a Silverstripe, I’d have done more than just destroy a few fields.”

But for a village, a single field was likely the support of a whole family.

Krow coughed. “Since I hunted on your land, it’s good to pay a fee for the damage. Will the skin be enough? I don’t think the meat is quite…fresh.”

The draculkar nodded, grimacing at the corpse.  “I wondered why a Silverstripe would come out of its caves. Something wounded it, and the festering drove it mad.”

He quirked a smile at Krow. “Are you sure you want to give it away, though? Silverstripe Snakeskin, a big one like this, it’s worth at least fifteen serpens to the right buyer.”

“I already have snakeskins.” Krow waved at the Tasseline Verdant Serpent carcasses in the nearby fields.

Fifteen serpens was mid-high for an Uncommon monster skin. Considering the decay caused by the possession though, Krow doubted it would earn that much.

“It’s not giving anything away. These are Bloodstripe Lavender plants, aren’t they? Considering the size of the field…fifteen serpens isn’t enough.”

The other chuckled, knelt at the edge of one of the herb beds. He examined a leaf. “More than enough. Half the plants are still harvestable. Hm.”

He looked up. “You are Krow, aren’t you? I am Hulach. The ears of the village are full of gossip about the pest killer who came to visit.”

“Perhaps not so short a visit. There are a lot of monsters in the area.” Krow took out a knife. “I’ll just skin this for you then.”

“A hunter then?” He watched Krow’s knife slice through the flexible scales of the Silverstripe’s underside. “And a trained butcher, it looks like.”

Krow smiled. “A traveler must always be prepared.”

“Hm.” Hulach went back to harvesting herbs.

Krow flayed the skin of the Silverstripe from the sides of the carcass, then turned the whole thing onto its belly. It was a simple matter then, to just pull off the skin.

[You’ve butchered a monster to acquire its Silverstripe Snakeskin!]

[You’ve butchered a monster to acquire its Tasseline Reptilian Mane!]

[You’ve butchered a monster to acquire its Feldrop Fangs!]

The fangs still had the venom sacs attached. Krow flicked it into Inventory.

He rolled up the leathery skin, face contorting as he examined the unnatural dark veins that crawled all over the Silverstripe snake meat, especially around the head.

Now that the carcass had been opened, the stench spread.

The herb field owner frowned, got up and dusted off his hands. He came closer. “That’s not a normal wound.”

“No,” Krow agreed. He placed the roll of skin on a rock, topped it with the tasseled Mane. “Have you ever seen anything like it?”

“Perhaps.” Hulach shrugged. “Best dispose of it as soon as possible. We don’t want it in the water.”

He waved to a few more people.

A boy bounded down the steps, two at a time. The shade of his hair was dark as that of the draculkar beside Krow. “Father!”

“The skin has already been scraped,” Hulach smiled at his son. “Take it with you. Your mother will know what to do.”

“The Mane as well.” Krow stated when the boy made a motion to put it aside. “It will sell too.”

It was butchered after all.

It should have some value.

The boy looked at his father uncertainly, and the draculkar frowned.

“I did damage to some of the other fields,” Krow pointed out. Those were minor compared to the decimation of this part of the herb fields though.

The draculkar nodded, and his son stacked the skin and mane, almost looking like a monster himself as he left.

The rest of the villagers hacked the corrupted corpse of the Silverstripe into pieces.

Krow looked at the carcasses of the Tasseline Verdant Serpents.

Only ten or so needed to be butchered.

He left the rest to whichever villager would notice, and started tracking the Silverstripe’s path. It appeared on a lower field. The markings of its passage were distinct. Thankfully, it led away from the gathered villagers.

The snake had already proven that it could slither up a vertical drop, so he checked the edges of the drops for signs.

A few minutes later, he was at the ruined edge of the town, past the waterfall.

The marks continued to one of the broken towers. The large openings of the tower base let in enough light to see. But a path of scratched stone tiles led to a stair, tunneling downward, the bottom steps in deep shadow.

Krow brought out a lamp, walked past what looked like dungeons, lower still to the water drain system.

He paused at the noises up ahead. His steps slowed and his gun lifted.

It was just water.

A reservoir to the old tower, still containing reserves.

A part of the wall had broken recently and scummy water gushed out in rivulets.

The tracks of the snake ended at the broken wall.

Krow stowed his gun and boosted himself up the wet stones.

The pale crumbly mortar on the broken stones spoke of the newness of the hole in the wall. The dank smell was strong. Enough that it wasn’t quite kept out by Krow’s mask.

The light of the lamp played over raw stone. The tower was built over the quarry its stone had come from. The tunnel he traversed now wasn’t a tunnel then, most likely, but a pathway up the cliffside for stoneworkers.

He paused, swung the lamp here and there.

The marks pointed out by his tracker subclass were gone. He retread his route.

A glow on the wall caught his attention.

He looked up.

A…door?

He jumped up. The carved stone was high enough that he needed Doublejump to reach it.

It was a door.

A secret room in a secret tunnel.

Alright.

It wasn’t stone.

He touched the side that was discolored by time and damp, rotten, where a mass of crushed splinters told him he was still on track. The carvings were on a type of wood.

Krow raised the lamp. They were faint. But the door was carved with symbols of the gods.

He lifted a brow. One half of the Zushkenari pantheon was represented.

The Nine of Creation.

Common enough.

People liked to separate the Destruction and Creation deities anyway.

Krow kicked in more of the door, widening the hole.

He ducked in.

From being behind such a dramatic door, the room was disappointing.

It was small and bare. The walls were raw stone.

There was a table and a chest in a corner.

Krow ignored them for the moment, walking around the room. There was an airvent in one corner, overgrown with pale moss.

There was a mass of moss on the floor under it, like a sweeper pushed it all out.

He’d found the entrance of the Silverstripe Tasseline Serpent.

Now, was it corrupted when it entered?

A cage lay in shadow, the light throwing dancing effigies of bars on the wall when Krow moved. He hadn’t seen it earlier, hidden behind a fall of rock.

He brought the lamp closer. Stopped.

Ha, the snake wasn’t corrupted when it entered.

“I suppose you are Anaret Gren, Lvl 31?”

The cage contained the corpse of a dwarvir.

Only bone remained, even that had half-crumbled, and yet the feeling of rage and despair tinted every inch of the figure.

Krow sighed.

He put the lamp on the table.

It tilted.

He grabbed the lamp and placed it on the floor instead.

In the warm light of the lamp, he kicked the cage to pieces, then started to loot the corpse.

Krow returned to the sunshine not thirty minutes later, with a set of dwarviran armor centuries old, a ring that radiated malice, and the two surviving books from the chest in the room.

*

Chapter End

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