Fyn baited one more pike. While Grace cleaned the fish, Fyn built a fire pit a good ways back from the shore. They moved in silence, each motion made with exceeding care. When the fire was built, the snap and pop of the flames were offensive in their clamor.
Grace took over the cooking. She brought out a grill attached to stout metal legs, which was placed over the fire. Pouches of salt and other spices were withdrawn from her belt purse, and she attended to the preparation of dinner with a seriousness that forbade conversation.
Fyn left her to it. He padded on reluctant feet to where Bram's remains lay. Standing over the warrior, Fyn's gut twisted and heaved. Ricky's claws had shredded armor and flesh. The mace and shield lay in pieces. Half of Bram's visor had been sliced away, revealing a mouth gaping open in shock.
The only serviceable bits of Bram's gear was his belt pouch. Drenched in blood, the pouch slid off Bram's belt where it had been cut. Fyn picked the bag up with two fingers.
Or, at least, he tried to. The bag was small enough to fit in his palm, but its weight required all of Fyn's strength to lift. He set it back down, panting.
Bracing himself, Fyn reached for the pouch again. With a grunt, Fyn hefted the bag onto his shoulder. Staggering back to the fire, Fyn let the bag drop onto the ground next to Grace. In another physics defying feat, the pouch flopped onto the ground, exactly the way you would expect an empty leather sack to flop.
"Bram keeps extra weapons in there," Grace said, tending to the grill as Fyn put his hands on the small of his back and stretched, "Surprised you could lift it."
Fyn grunted, rubbing his shoulders as he caught his breath and started walking to where Sophie had fallen.
Sophie was intact, and, somehow, that was worse than Bram. Her hands and face were scratched where they had made contact with trees and bushes, but there was only a single serious wound. A penetrating strike through her heart. There was almost no blood. Her death had been quick.
At first, Fyn thought that Bram must have carried Sophie's extra gear for her. There was no belt pouch. Looking closer, Fyn saw two chains, one gold and one silver, around the woman's neck. He had to lift her head to pull them free, and they tangled in her hair as he tugged on them.
The silver chain was connected to a green pouch of soft velvet. There was a flower embroidered on the outside, a cute touch for the hard faced woman of few words. The bag was heavier than you would expect, but not in a backbreaking way.
The gold chain held a square pedant, with a fancy D engraved on it. It was exactly like the pendant Fyn wore around his neck, apart from the letter. Fyn rubbed the metal between his fingers.
Grace had said Sophie and Bram were "second tier, D ranked guild members." The letter on the necklace must relate to their rank. Fyn closed his eyes.
It seemed like all guild members had tags like these. Some sort of identification, maybe? That meant Bram probably had one as well, and the custom seemed to be to wear them around your neck.
Fyn's stomach rebelled at the thought of going back to the mangled mess of meat, but he did. Fortunately, Bram wore his guild tag on a leather cord. Fyn was able to cut it free without touching Bram's corpse very much.
Back at the fire, Fyn set Sophie's bag next to Bram's, and traded the tags for a wooden plate of grilled fish. Grace held the pedants for a moment, then tossed them next to Fyn and picked up her plate.
"When you register at the guild, you can turn those in and report the deaths for a reward," She said, casually, eating the fish with her fingers, "If I were you, I'd stop wearing the one you took from Lucas. It's illegal to claim a rank you don't deserve. Could be trouble if anyone checks."
Fyn nodded. Setting his plate in his lap, he put all three guild tags and the firestick into his belt pouch. He poked at his share of the fish. He didn't feel like eating after the events of the evening. Fyn finally forced himself to swallow a bite, not from hunger, but for the sense of normalcy that eating brought.
"Shouldn't you turn them in?" Fyn asked, licking salt from his fingers, "They were your friends."
"Sophie and Bram were friends," Grace corrected around a mouthful of fish, "Those two were a team. Lucas and I were temporary hires. I wouldn't say I knew any of them well."
"Oh," Fyn took another bite. Not sure what to say to that, he concentrated on his plate.
It was Grace who spoke next. Clearing her throat, she looked towards the hidden grotto, "That thing is afraid of water."
"Mmmm," Fyn swallowed. He didn't hear any accusation in her tone, "Ricky doesn't like water. Saying he is afraid of it, though? I wouldn't go that far."
"You might have mentioned that," Grace snorted, wiping her fingers on the grass.
"Would it have changed anything?" Fyn's lips twisted into a grin that held more grimace than humor.
"Who knows," Grace shrugged, "I don't blame you. You didn't owe us anything."
Fyn's picked and chewed at his dinner. The change from boiled fish to grilled and seasoned fish was starting to bring out his appetite, and that settled the unease he had been feeling.
"What was the plan anyway?" Fyn asked abruptly, "What made you think you could win?"
"The plan," Grace set her empty plate aside and picked up Bram's bag, "was for Sophie to kill the unique with her first shot. If that failed, Bram would draw its attention while I looked for the chance to hit it from behind, and Sophie reloaded."
She tied the blood soaked pouch to her belt and opened her status. All Fyn could see from his angle was a blank, and transparent blue screen. Through the screen, Grace could be seen pressing and scrolling, though what she was doing was anyone's guess.
"I didn't know Ricky could get big like that," Fyn said to keep himself from asking what she was doing, "You think if he had known, Bram would have gone home?"
"Not a chance in hell," Grace clicked at her status and items began to appear on the ground, "Bram and Sophie were second tier. If they had more information, they would have changed their skill set, and we'd be eating… what did you call it?… weasel-rabbit. It was ignorance that killed them, not weakness. That happens."
A broad sword, a leaf shield, a bedroll, and a set of cups, more items began to build a small mountain next to Grace. Fyn's jaw hung open from a combination of what he was seeing and Grace's claims of Ricky's defeat.
Out of all the items, the only ones that held any interest for Grace was a leather bag that jingled when she set it down, and a yellow silk pouch that rattled. Closing her status, Grace removed Bram's pouch and tossed it into the dark. Picking up Sophie's velvet bag, Grace hung it around her neck and repeated the process.
Fyn finished eating while she was busy. Taking Grace's plate along with his own, he went to the river bank and found a calm, shallow spot, protected by a few large stones. He used a handful of sand to scrub the dishes and rinsed them in the river. Carrying them back, he set them by the fire to dry.
When he sat back down, Grace had finished manipulating her status. New items had joined the pile, including various crossbow bolts, and spare strings, obviously the contents of Sophie's bag.
A flick of Grace's wrist sent the velvet pouch with its silver chain, flying through the air to land on Fyn's lap.
"You don't have an inventory bag," Grace tilted her head to the side, "that one isn't as big as Bram's, but considering the state his is in, I figured you'd like that one better."
"Thanks," Fyn held the bag, and ran his fingers over the pattern embroidered on it, "How do I use it?"
"If you want to put something in, press the bag to it and will it to happen. As long as you know what is inside, accessing the contents is as simple as a touch. If you forget what you have put inside, you will have to use your status to check." Grace frowned as she explained, "Didn't anyone in your village have one?"
"My mother did," Fyn thought fast, "she is the only person I saw using one, but hers was different. It didn't get as heavy as these do. I thought they might work differently too."
"Sounds like your mother had a storage bag," Grace chewed her lower lip and added, "You have to be C-ranked to buy a storage bag."
There had been no accusation in her tone when Grace realized he had held back Ricky's aversion to water. Fyn thought it was funny to hear the suspicion in her voice now.
"She was a Soldier, before I was born, before we came out here to farm," Fyn improvised, looking at his lap, "I'm not sure what rank she was."
"A C-ranked soldier, killed by bandits?" Grace said it slowly, her eyes narrowing, "Did they get her while she was asleep?"
"She fought," Fyn spat angrily, balling his fists and lifting his chin to glare at her, "They all fought. The bandits were dead, the village was burning… burning, but we would have been alright… then the beasts…"
Fyn trailed off, his shoulders slumping. He closed his eyes and hoped she wouldn't notice the nervous sweat that covered him. If she asked about the beasts, he was done for. He couldn't lie about details when he didn't know what kind of monsters were around.
"Alright, I'm sorry," Grace said. Fyn heard a rustling sound but didn't look up. Three white pearls hit him in the chest, "Those are from the fish. Should have given them to you earlier."
Twenty, Fyn thought, curling his hand around the white orbs, enough for two complete attribute points or the prerequisites for six classes.
Out loud he kept talking as if he hadn't heard her, his voice low and numb, "The smoke and flames were everywhere. Bodies, torn apart… my mother…father… I ran. Ran for… it felt like days. Ran until I collapsed and then ran some more. I hid at night, drank out of puddles… I lost track of how long it was. I ate horrible things I think."
"I didn't come out of it until, one day, hiding under the roots of a tree," He looked at her now, "I saw a man. He was sitting there, not hurting anyone. I thought about asking him for help… but he didn't live long enough for that."
"Lucas wasn't the type to help lost kids for free," Grace rolled her eyes, but Fyn thought he saw a flicker of guilt on her face, "You've had it rough."
"And it doesn't get better from here on out," Grace began to hold up yellow crystals, four of them, one by one, she set them on the ground in front of her. Making sure Fyn was watching, she added three red crystals to row.
"You heard Sophie, Fyn," Grace said once all the improvement points were displayed, "you can follow the river, south from here for a week, then upstream when you hit the Crag River. Do that, and eventually, you will find yourself in Crenset Crossing."
"That's a couple of hundred miles through woods infested with predators and the monster tribes," Grace raised her eyebrow at him, waving her hand over the pile of equipment, "You can take whatever gear you want from this lot, but you will make the trip alone."
"Or," She continued, leaning forward, "We can travel together, east to the road. From there you can walk to Crenset or come with me to South Mallasory. If you come with me to the road, the four yellow and three red improvement points are all yours. You can't use the reds yet, but if you pick herbs as we go, you might hit level 5."
Fyn tried to keep a sullen expression on his face as he peered at the offered crystals, "Why would you do that? What's in it for you?"
Grace picked up two of the yellow crystals, "First, you will use these to gain the Map skill. And, you will switch out Freshly Picked for Map."
"I know that will affect your leveling," Grace said quickly as if to forestall his objections, "But it's necessary. It's easy to get lost in the Blood Woods. Without Map and Sense of Direction, we could end up walking in circles."
"Couldn't you just take the Map skill yourself?" Fyn asked, his lips curling downwards.
"Teams need to have clear divisions of duty, Fyn," Grace clicked her tongue, "My skills will be keeping us safe. Yours will keep us heading the right direction."
"This is really the best option, Fyn," she tossed him the crystals as if he had already agreed, "Together, we can keep watch at night, look out for each other during the day. Even second tiers like Bram and Sophie brought along extra help to travel the Blood Woods."
Fyn nodded as if that meant something to him, while inside he begged her to explain what a second tier was.
"If you think it's best," Fyn sighed, clenching his jaw as if he had come to a major decision, "I'll come along."