The First Legendary Beast Master

Chapter 556  Poor Route Choice

The novelty of being a Karl lasted about ten minutes, then Hawk returned to his space and his natural form.

Talking to people was overrated. They just kept asking him strange questions about flying, or wanted to touch his feathers.

Rae smirked as Hawk retreated to safety. [See, being here in the shadows is far superior to being out there where people who can bother you. We can't all be Thor, who people naturally want to love on and groom.]

[Have you considered not trying to jump scare people?] Cara asked.

[Considered it, rejected the thought.] Rae confirmed.

Karl chuckled at their interactions and the way that they just accepted Hawk's decision that trying to be human was overrated. But now he knew how to do it, so if he wanted to come out in places where his natural body was too large to fit, he would be capable of it.

No more forced sidelining if they were fighting indoors, though he would likely just remain in his space anyhow and cast out from there.

The fact that they could use skills while in their spaces was the ultimate advantage for the beasts. If they didn't want to interact, they didn't have to, and nobody could bother them in there.

She did come outside for the night watch, though. If there were any lost monsters or stragglers, she wanted the advantage of already being in the area when she detected them. It could save nearly a second in the process between finding them and eating them.

She was the only one from Karl's group that was on watch that night, the rest of the work was being done by the Spellblades. The first light of dawn was Rae's signal to go to bed, and Hawk's signal to start scouting. He could do it at night now, as his vision had changed with his evolution, and he no longer had any issues seeing at night. But that was Rae's turn to hunt, and he didn't want to start family strife.

[There are merchants coming. They must have started moving very early. From the south.] Hawk informed them not long after taking off.

That was not the expected direction, as the road led through the area that had been affected by the spawn in that direction. But if they had come through that way, they should have additional information about the situation. Perhaps it had been mostly cleared, and they wouldn't have to go east to get around the dangers.

"Prepare for visitors. They're coming from the south, out of the danger zone, so they might be in rough shape." Karl warned the Spellblades.

The group was jogging down the road, and Karl noticed that they also didn't have a wagon with them. They had large backpacks full of supplies, but the packs looked like they were hastily assembled, and not the sort of pack that one would choose for a long journey.

Karl stepped out to the edge of the road and raised a hand in greeting as they came into sight, hoping they would stop to give some answers.

The group was entirely made of Trolls, the slender blue skinned variety, and they had a Royal Rank shaman leading them.

Karl could feel the elemental magic lingering on him, like a scent of ozone, but not an actual smell.

The Shaman stopped in front of Karl and bowed slightly, panting hard from the run with a pack on.

"I take it that the road south of here isn't safe? We were coming across from the west and had to turn north to avoid trouble." Karl greeted him.

"You would be correct. We lost everything but what we could carry, plus two of our people. There is some sort of invasion of Cyclops and Giant Boars to the south.

The army is out dealing with them, but there are so many that it will take them ages. Is it safe to go west from here?" He replied.

"Yes, you can go west overland from here, just don't go much further south, or you'll be into it again. It runs all the way to Bethoke Fortress."

The Troll cursed. "So the city markets at Mitford are inaccessible?"

Karl frowned. "The city of Mitford was sacked. I don't know what has survived, but the whole city is in rebuilding mode, and I was told by Overlord Leafa that two of the Council members are there overseeing it.

The problem is that everything from here to there was invaded. You might make good money on what is left, but it would be safer to go west until you are past the Fortress and then turn south if you want to trade there."

The Troll sighed and looked at his ragged group of companions. All of their clothes were tattered, and their weapons were cracked and chipped from intense battle. The last thing that they wanted was another fight.

If they hadn't been Trolls and able to regenerate from the wounds that the Boars and Giants inflicted upon them, they would never have made it out. "I don't suppose that you have any cloth for sale? We might not get through the Fortress gates looking they way that we do right now."

Karl chuckled and nodded. "Yeah, I've got a bit of cloth with me. Consider it a gift in hopes of good fortune." n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

They still had the rough canvas that had been the cover for the wagon, and that would be enough to at least make a basic toga for each of the Trolls, which they could hold closed with their sword belts.

As he was handing over the plain grey cloth, one of the Spellblades came over with an armload of cloth. "Here, take this as well. A simple kilt in Clan McCauley tartan looks good on everyone, and trolls usually go shirtless anyhow." He offered.

The Troll Shaman turned to Karl. "What did he say? I can't understand his accent at all."

Karl chuckled. "He is offering you a bolt of his Clan's signature tartan so that you look presentable, and not like beggars in the rough canvas I have."

The Troll smiled and patted the confused man on the shoulder.

"Thank you. We will look glorious in your Clan's colours. My people will wear it with pride."

The Trolls stepped to the side so they could change from their tattered clothes into kilts with crudely cut canvas tunics.

"I thought that my accent was fairly easy to understand." The Spellblade whispered. "It is for me, but apparently not for Trolls who are used to the local Common accents. They're happy to have the tartan, though. Is there a reason you had so much of it?"

The mage chuckled and shook his head. "I have a spell to make it. I always carry one bolt of it in a spatial storage bag, just in case. I will make another once we're on the road."

"You should speak to Lotus as we walk. She would be genuinely interested in a cloth creation spell that can make fancy cloth. Or perhaps Dana, as she's also a mage." Karl suggested.

The mage shook his head. "Clan secret, I'm afraid. We're not allowed to teach it to outsiders. I've tried to convince the Elders to teach the whole Spellblade Clan, as generations of my family have lived there, but this spell only makes my family's pattern, and they said it wasn't appropriate."

Karl shrugged. "Still, if you change your mind, let one of them know. They might be able to modify the spell to make other patterns."