“The problem is we have bears around here,” Kyle said as he and Jason looked at the tracks left behind by the fergax. “Sometimes they get curious and come in close, and their tracks are pretty much identical. Some of the other adventurers that came out thought I was seeing bears and getting rattled.”
“Well, we have the recording now, so at least we can demonstrate there really is a monster,” Jason assured him. “That means a black-mark is off the table, at the very least. Next, we see if we can't do a little better than that.”
Using the watering can again, Jason found a large salt reaction and performed the tracking ritual. This time an aura imprint found its way onto his prepared tracking stone. As expected, it led him straight in the direction of the neighbouring Clementson property, which Jason had anticipated before ever arriving.
It was laid out much the same as the Lindover property but was in full operation. There were workers everywhere, and the magically driven saws could be heard loudly cutting into wood in the mill. The other big difference was the farmhouse. The Lindover farmhouse was large but functional. On the Clementson property, the farmhouse was both larger and more ostentatious.
Jason didn’t bother to hide, striding through the property as if he owned the place. He got a few glances from workers, but the combat robes and the weapons said adventurer, which no one wanted to mess with. A man came out to meet him and was forced to follow along as Jason didn’t slow, letting the tracking stone lead him to his quarry. Where the lumber workers had practical attire like Kyle, this man wore city fashions.
“If you don’t mind me asking,” the man said, “what brings you to my property?”
“Monster hunt,” Jason said, without so much as looking at the man. “You’re Clementson?”
“Eustace Clementson, yes, sir. You think there’s a monster on the property?”
“I’m sure you’re familiar with the troubles your neighbour is having,” Jason said. “A monster appeared there several hours ago, and I’ve been tracking it to the source.”
“Tracking it?” Clementson asked, unable to hide the panic in his voice. It might have been at the idea of a monster on his property, but Jason didn’t think so.
“I managed to get an aura imprint. That imprint led me directly to your property.”
Clementson was starting to sweat, his eyes darting nervously in the direction Jason was heading.
“You’ve obviously been working hard,” Clementson said. “Why don’t you let me offer you some hospitality? You can have some refreshment and I can tell you about the property. It might help you find what you’re looking for.”
“This tracking stone is all the help I need,” Jason said, continuing his rapid stride.
“I’ll leave you to your business, then,” Clementson said and started moving ahead of Jason at a half-run.
“Stop,” Jason ordered. His aura came down hard on Clementson, who staggered and stopped.
“Sir?” he asked, feebly.
“I think it would be best if you stayed with me,” Jason said. “For safety.”
Withering under the force of Jason’s aura, Clementson reluctantly nodded, falling in behind Jason as he resumed his path through the property. They quickly came on a building detached from the main residence, made from stone and an indulgent amount of wood. On a porch swing, a man was sitting up, rubbing his eyes as if just having woken up. He gave the approaching pair a bleary-eyed look, focusing on Clementson.
“Eustace,” he said, “what was that aura I just…”
The man trailed off as he realised the source of the aura was standing next to Clementson. Then his gaze locked onto Jason’s face and his eyes went wide.
94
Consequences
The Temple of the Healer in Greenstone was one of the central temples on the Divine Square. Inside, a man named Neil Davone was making a stand.
“I won't be a part of this,” he declared to the Chief Priest. “This isn't about serving the Healer. I spend my days following around the most petty noble in Greenstone, so I know what power and ambition look like.”
The Chief Priest had all the temple clergy arrayed behind him, ready to move out. He looked at Neil with a dismissive sneer.
“Be thankful that your powers come not from our god, for he would take them from you. If you would stand against us, then you are no longer welcome in this church. Begone from this place, and never return.”
Neil steeled himself, his expression hard. He turned around and strode out of the temple.
On the Clementson property, Jason was confronting the man the tracking stone had led him to.
“Asano!” the man uttered.
Jason frowned. He recognised the face from somewhere, but couldn’t place it, at first. Then revelation struck.
“You’re one of the people that attacked me in Old City.”
“I didn't attack you,” the man said quickly, his voice rising in pitch. “That was Dink! We all left, just like you said.”
“And now you’re here summoning monsters,” Jason said. “Stay where you are, Mr Clementson.”
Clementson had been slinking away while Jason’s focus was on the other adventurer, but stopped short at Jason’s command. He looked back and saw that Jason hadn’t turned to look.
“Yes, Mr Clementson,” Jason said, without taking his eyes off the man in the other direction. “I am watching you.”
Jason had Clementson under the strict watch of his aura sense, the normal-rank mill owner having no way to hide it. He kept his eyes locked on the iron-ranker.
“I don’t know anything about summoning any monsters,” the man said.
“If you don’t want to tell me things, then don’t tell me,” Jason said. “Lying is just going to make things worse.”
The man looked up at the crystal floating over Jason’s head.
“Is that a recording crystal?”
“It is,” Jason said. “Why don’t you tell me your name?”
“Why?”
Jason’s hard expression broke into a chuckle.
“Well, if nothing else,” Jason said, “it can’t be worse than what I’m calling you in my head. What’s your name?”
“Tuckell,” the adventurer said warily. “Dean Tuckell.”
Jason gave him a sympathetic smile, his body language shifting from harsh confrontation to loose and relaxed. Jason casually strolled up to the porch, where the man had been napping on a long, swinging chair. The man tensed at Jason’s approach, giving a startled jerk as Jason casually plonked himself down next to the man on the long chair.
“Nice to meet you, Dean. I’m Jason, but you knew that.”
Jason looked out from the porch. This back building didn’t look out over the lumber mill, but instead at the crops grown to feed the workers.
“This isn’t bad,” Jason said, taking it all in. “If I recall correctly, Dean, you were the one that tried to talk Dink out of attacking me. Is Dink his real name?”
“That’s his nickname,” Dean said hesitantly, wary of the man sitting next to him. “His real name is Jared.”
“I’d definitely take that over Dink,” Jason said. “Was he the one who picked Dink?”
“Yeah.”
“Clearly, some people are beyond help. Alright, Dean; this is quite a pickle you’ve got yourself in. The way I see it, things are going to go one of four ways from here. I’m just going to come out and tell you that I know what you’re doing, who you’re doing it for and why.”
“Don’t listen to him,” Clementson said, from where he was still standing, in front of the porch. “He’s just trying to get information out of you.”