Misadventures Incorporated

Chapter 377 - Giants, Raccoons, and Giant Raccoons VI

Though the first two nights were sour, the party’s mood improved by their third day in Fornestead. They picked up a few day jobs in a nearby town and acquired some of the local currency—the exchange rate was awful despite the use of fool’s gold—and restocked their supplies in each of the cities they passed. For the most part, the nation was at peace. It was almost impossible to tell that it was in the midst of a multigenerational blood feud.

The already tranquil zeitgeist was further amplified by the sheer distance between the individual settlements. Even going at full speed, it took a week and a half—a full fifteen sunsets—to reach the other end of the oversized kingdom. It was precisely because they were nearing the border that Claire was face down in the carriage with all her eyes closed.

Though the forest had a clear size gradient, there weren’t any obvious landmarks or checkpoints to precisely delineate the border between Fornestead and Paunse, and the people flowed naturally between them. Native Fornestines and Paunseans could be found in similar numbers along the highways that crossed between their nations. And as Paunsean males were typically docile and skittish, it was mainly their females that governed their merchant bands. Or in more Alfred-friendly terms, the roads were flooded with catgirls.

They came in all shapes, sizes, and colours. There were tiny kittens with jet-black tails, old grimalkin with snow-white hair, and waves upon waves upon waves of queens in their primes. Some had fancy patterned coats and some had their heads covered in natural tuxedos, but far most eye-catching of all were those with their heads dyed in a dark orange-brown. Their faces, voices, and heartbeats all confirmed that they weren’t her. But from behind, some of them were close enough for her eyes to play tricks on her mind.

It was unbearable, and Alfred’s curse only made it worse.

Claire no longer felt the sickening sensation that had once stemmed from his desires, but it wasn’t as if she had broken free from all of the adverse effects. Her catgirl affinity skill dictated that she could see every catgirl regardless of what they were positioned within or behind. Their clothes, on the other hand, were nowhere to be seen; her eyes were incapable of processing them.

With so many of them nearby, it was truly a nightmare of a scenario. There was nowhere for her to look. They were all over the interconnected roads that ran throughout the region, and many lived within the villages placed by its side; every direction was as cluttered and lewd as the last.

Though she stayed hidden away, so that they wouldn’t immediately go into heat upon encountering her, Claire found the nation unsafe. Even looking up proved itself a mortal risk. There weren’t any of them in the trees, for the most part, but entire clowders dotted the sky. They rode in palanquins carried by giant flying rodents. The transports were effectively flying hamsters—monsters indigenous to Fornestead, obtained through their frequent trades.

Though they could easily move through the air, the oversized furballs did not have wings. They came equipped instead with a trio of tails, each of which featured a set of prongs that could be rotated quickly enough to generate an upward force. They were a little slow for flying creatures of their size, but at the very least, they were much faster than their landlocked equivalents.

“Uhmmm… Claire? Are you okay?” asked Sylvia.

“I’m fine,” said the lyrkress.

“You wouldn’t have your face against the floor if you were fine,” said Chloe. She grabbed a pouch from under her skirt and rummaged around until she found a bright yellow vial. “Would you like some medicine? It’s got a bit of a foul taste, but it’ll help with headaches and motion sickness.”

“I’m fine.” The lyrkress began to roll over, but she stopped in the middle of the attempt and returned to her previous position. “I’m going to sleep. Wake me up when we reach Kryddar.”

“Are you sure you don’t want any medicine?” asked Chloe.

The melted glob of a lyrkress offered no response. Her eyes had closed, her breathing had slowed, and she was already snoring away.

“Maybe we should make her drink it while she’s asleep.” The maid toyed with the potion, spinning the vial like a pen as she observed the half-moose’s flickering tail.

“The medicine probably wouldn’t help her much in the first place,” said Sylvia.

“Why not?”

“She’s not really like, sick, sick. It’s more like she’s sick in the head.”

“I mean, yeah,” said the maid. “Everyone knows that Claire’s got a few screws loos—”

A silvery blue tail flew into her side and cut her off mid-sentence. Confused and winded, Chloe looked at the perpetrator, only to find her still snoring. Her eyes narrowed, she briefly fixed her gaze on the melted blob of a sleeping dragon before slowly shifting it back to the fox.

“Is she actually asleep, or is she just pretending?” asked the half-demon.

“Uhmmm… dunno,” said Sylvia.

“It is always difficult to say,” said Arciel. “She is capable of not only falling asleep at the drop of a hat, but feigning it without error as well.”

“There has to be some way to tell,” said Chloe. “We could try tickling he—” Another strike to the same location. “I’m pretty sure she’s still awake.”

“It’s still kinda hard to say,” said Sylvia. She wandered over to her favourite chair and lightly pressed her ears against her back. “Mmmnnn… yeah, I can’t really tell. Her breathing is a lot slower than usual, and it sounds natural, but that doesn’t really mean it is.”

“She clearly has to be awake if she keeps hitting me every time I say something she doesn’t like,” said the maid.

“I would not disqualify the possibility of an unconscious reaction.”

“This reminds me of the time one of my old parties hunted an arvin,” said Krail. He took a hand off the reins and scratched the back of his head. “It was in the middle of winter, so we were pretty sure it was hibernating, but it kept moving just enough for us to be unsure if it was really asleep.”

“What were arvins again?” asked Sylvia.

“They’re big slugs with wings. There aren’t too many as far north as Vel’khan, but you’ll start running into them if you made for the boundless grove. They’re not docile enough to be made into pack animals, but they’re fast and strong. Tamers use them all the time.”

“Oh wait! Aren’t those the thingies that kinda look like really fleshy birds?”

“Yeah, that’s them exactly,” said the elf.

The party continued to cycle between silly conversations and extended periods of silence as the carriage creaked north. It didn’t take too long for their surroundings to change. The forest—whose various plants and animals quickly shrank back down to a more reasonable size—gave way to a hillscape covered in craggy protrusions.

There were rocks as far as the eye could see, with only short grasses sprouting from the patches of dirt between them. It wasn’t exactly a mountainous area. Few of the stone piles rose any higher than just a few dozen meters, but the slopes were certainly steep enough for the turberi to collapse in exhaustion. Their short, stubby legs were horrible for climbing; they needed to be changed out in less than half the usual time. Most of the locals opted for oxen and horses instead, with the latter as the far more popular choice.

The land was hardly suitable for the traditional farmwork observed in most other domains, but there were still food-producing villages aplenty. They were constructed on terraced hills, most of which had long been transformed into rich rice paddies. A strange plant with large purple flowers made up roughly eighty percent of the local crop, with the rest of it being a mix of rice, taro, and lotus.

Dozens upon dozens of cats stood out in the fields, some tending to crops, others catching the fish and insects swimming around beneath them. While it was mainly women doing work abroad, most of the farmers were male. Unlike their feminine counterparts, the cat siths were without any humanoid traits and often meowed aloud. They could have easily passed for pets If not for their slightly upscaled bodies, their clothes, and their bipedal postures. It was an impression only emphasized by the giants living among them.

Said giant presence was gone by the time they arrived in Volgstok—the city closest to the border. Roughly half a day from Fornestead, it was a bustling port built around the bay where the Volgska river met the Ryllian sea. Despite the similar geography, the city was nowhere near as waterlogged as Vel’khagan. The whole thing sat above sea level, and though it was built on both sides of the Volgska, it hardly incorporated the river into the city’s plan.

The locals avoided the river as best they could—there were several dozen meters of dead space between the shore and the closest buildings, and there was even a set of tall walls erected to keep the water out. Even with the massive bridge that united the northern and southern districts, it was almost more accurate to describe Volgstok as two distinct cities in one.

“Are you sure this is enough feed?” A calico with a long, braided ponytail stared at the wagon as she toyed with her pen and her clipboard.

“I am certain,” said Arciel. “The largest one has little need for food.”

“Well, alright. Then that’ll be twelve hundred bolts for the barn and another two for the food. Fourteen hundred total. I’ll bump it a little higher if the big one ends up eating, likely one to two hundred depending on how much it needs.”

“Is Skarnian coinage acceptable?”

“If you don’t mind a little bit of a surcharge.” The catgirl scribbled a few numbers on her page. “It’ll be two silver pieces if you pay in Skarnian.”

“Chloe, if you could.”

“Of course.” Nodding, the maid retrieved two silver pieces from her pouch and handed them right over.

The party vacated the stable after signing the necessary forms and left the clerk to scratch her head as she examined the animals again. There were a total of eight left in her care. Six were turberi. They weren’t too well regarded by most locals, but they served as popular picks among their foreign guests. It was largely their docility and ease of acquisition that drove their frequent occurrence; one could simply grab a few hatchlings off the beach whenever it happened to be convenient.

The guests’ turberi were not quite as haphazard. She could tell, just by looking at the patterns on the back of their shells, that they were of the expensive Lannais breed; she would have to take good care of them if she didn’t want any trouble, but she was largely unconcerned. She had plenty of experience with similarly expensive individuals.

Far more concerning were the other two creatures the travellers had left in her care. One was a strange lizard with a shiny metal body, which was frankly the more manageable of the two, while the other was a large serpentine creature curled up into a ball.

The party had informed her that she was free to put it away and leave it be. It wasn’t supposed to wake up, but she could continue to ignore it even in the odd case that it did. It certainly looked like it needed a generous amount of space, but what concerned her more than its potentially massive, unfurled form, was the strange feeling that filled her chest as she looked upon it. She didn’t know why, but she wanted to run her fingers across the scales. And so she did just that.

She lightly traced its individual grooves, almost losing herself in the pleasant, smooth sensation before snapping back to reality and shaking her head free of the inexplicable temptation. After ensuring that the customers’ cargo was all locked and secure, she quickly took it out back and shoved it in the barn. Playing with the customers’ animals wasn’t completely out of the question. Some degree of interaction would serve as decent enrichment, but business hours were far from over, and with her brother out for the day, she had to cover the desk herself.

While the stablehand got back to work, her customers frolicked about in the city. The party’s members wandered around haphazardly, taking in the sights as they walked down the street. Most Paunsean buildings were made of cement, but each featured a tall metal rod alongside some sort of runic device. Though marked with Tzaarkus’ symbol, their function was far from clear. One might have assumed that they were meant to keep the buildings safe even in the case of a thunderstorm, but their thick rubber roofs served that particular purpose already.

“Where exactly were we headed again?” asked Krail. “It seems a little early to be calling it a day.” It was just a little past noon, and the party surely would have continued past the city had Arciel not ordered a brief pause.

“There is a matter I wish to attend to in Paunse, though it does not require all of our attentions.” Arciel turned to her maid. “Chloe, once we find our lodgings for the night, I would appreciate if you could gather information on the matter we previously discussed..”

Chloe scrunched up her face. “Okay. I’ll check to see if I can find anything.”

“Wait a second. Does that mean what I think it does?” Sylvia, who had been walking on her own for once, suddenly assumed her humanoid form and popped up in front of the bloodkraken.

“It does. I have caught Claire, on a number of occasions, in the midst of hesitation. I suspect that a more direct approach is necessary to break her, or perhaps all of us, from this cycle of lament.”

She lowered her face, raising it again only when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She had half expected it to be Sylvia’s, but following it to its source revealed the party’s wolf girl. She didn’t say a word, but she raised a hand and gave the queen a symbol of approval.

It was a sentiment shared by the two men trailing just a little bit behind the rest of the group as well. Only the elf let it show on his face. The clam refused to wear anything besides his usual frown even though his eyes had softened.

“It seems like she’s keeping to her word after all. Of course, I’m well aware that she is simply hiding her emotions as opposed to truly overcoming them, but still, she’s doing a better job than I was expecting,” said Krail.

“The idiots are just licking each other’s wounds is all.” Jules paused for a second to scratch his chin. “But I guess it’s worth it if it makes us stronger.”

“You know, I was worried for a bit. I thought you might’ve been a bit too hard on her the other day,” said Krail. “I almost thought she was going to give up.”

“Man, fuck off. I said everything I needed to and not a word more.”

“I know, but it might’ve been better if you didn’t let her down as hard. Most people aren’t quite as hardy as you are.”

“What? Do you think you should’ve done it instead or something? All you’d do is ramble without ever getting to the point”

“Touché.” The elf lightly thumped his back as he straightened it and stretched his neck. “But it’s not like you’re all that much better. You were half venting. I know you’re not happy with how little progress we’ve been making.”

“Can you blame me? We were pretty much leaping over ourselves until we started shitting bricks. Can’t say it feels good, even knowing we’ve been making better progress than most.”

“Doesn’t help that we’ve lost some of our best.”

“You better shut the fuck up about that before she hears you.” Jules shot a brief glance in the queen’s direction before lowering his voice. “They were good men. We’re gonna have to pick up the pace if we don’t want shit to hit the fan.”

“Yeah, I know. I doubt the maid’s going to be doing anything but getting herself killed.”

“Pretty much,” said the clam. “Honestly, I was thinking I’d jump ship. Probably would’ve too, if she kept wasting our fucking time and sulking. The other one’s been acting pretty fucking weird too ever since we got out of Fornestead. Probably talked to Panda again or something. Can’t help but wonder what she knows.”

“Maybe, but it could be something else. One of the kids in my most recent party was like that too. He’d always start getting broody whenever too many of us crowded him. Apparently, he just liked it when it was quieter and…”

Jules nodded along and pretended to listen to the elf’s story. But in reality, he had long directed his focus to the improvement of his spells. It was as they had discussed. He needed to get stronger to make up for their losses, and he wasn’t growing quickly enough.