Grand Saint Alloy

Tristan looked at the equipment he was handed. It was a spear with a wooden shaft and needle like steel head. Luke had trained him on how to use a staff, as they were the most easily accessible weapon. He wondered how much of that could be transferred to a spear. Probably most of it.

Armor was handed out, and it was better than Tristan expected. There was a gambeson which draped down to his knees, it would be good against bludgeoning and some kinds of thrusts. It was perfect for large crabs. The other piece was a pair of thick waders protected his feet and ankles. Tristan suspected that he would struggle to stab a normal knife through them.

Everyone got a pouch, which caused a lot of unrest in the division. The pouch contained the standard fire kit first aid, and two vials of poison. The poison was not lethal, but it would kill any parasite eggs inside one’s body. Unfortunately, the only way to take it was to drink it. The poison would make you feel very queasy, with diarrhea and a fever, so it was necessary to stay hydrated. In some cases it could even give hallucinations.

Many of the members of the division were unhappy that this piece of information was kept from them. There was a good number of tier ones who had signed up without knowing all the facts. However, with the poison it was not like it mattered. In Tristans opinion, this was a great thing. Unlike scorpions who had very similar tails filled with lethal venom, these ghost crabs laid eggs. Eggs that had a time frame of a few weeks before they became dangerous. This meant that Tristan would always be able to get back to safety before the eggs became dangerous.

Lesly shouted to get everyone’s attention, “I know that many of you are unhappy, however, desertion is a capital offense. Exile is the most lenient punishment you will receive.” She met the eyes of everyone she deemed a trouble maker, “Turn your attention to the bags your team leaders are carrying, place the stingers of any crabs you kill in their if you want credit for the kill.

Bruce tossed a bag to Clive who scrambled to catch it, “What, why do I have to carry this, Sage is stronger.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow, “Exactly, why slow down the fighters. And yes I do think that everyone here is better than you at that.”

Clive grumbled as Lesly led the division across the bridge and told them to scatter and hunt. Tristan had to scratch his head, how far would they have to go to find anything. He assumed that everything near the fort was already hunted down. Most of the day would most likely be spent walking.

Fortunately, it seemed that having a relative as a division leader definitely gave Bruce access to better information. Bruce directed them to go straight for a small farming community about ten miles away. Most of the sight lines were blocked by rows of corn, which concerned Tristan, he was under no illusion that he was good enough to let his opponents sneak up on him. However, with a party of tier one and higher, a ten mile walk should only take a few hours.

Tristan fell back to walk beside Clive, he was a farmer and Tristan did not despise him so much that he would not get information from him. Clive was a manager who oversaw the farms. However he was tier one, which made his appearance here optional. Except, now that Tristan knew that the hang up with the extermination was agricultural in nature, it made sense to force a few farmers to come.

“Glow stick,” Bruce flinched slightly and made sure that Tristan was not talking to him, “You were a farmer in the Forest Caldera, what can we expect at these farming communities?”

Clive seemed about to refuse the question, but then he remembered Tristan’s aggressive disposition and the rest of the team listening in. He sighed, “Farming communities were gathering points for harvested produce. They would warehouse food until it could be transported to markets or silo’s. Many times small dwellings will spring up around them. Not having to walk ten miles home every day puts an extra six hours into their available work hours.”

“Just as a hypothetical, if a whole bunch of farmers were over run by crabs, how many would there be.” Tristan asked.

Eve’s face paled, “Oh those poor people.”

Clive gulped, realizing he was now in those farmers shoes, “I guess there would be twenty to thirty at most.”

“How about if you include the beasts of burden?” Tristan asked.

“Those are less common than you might expect, a dedicated plow man can do a lot with a bull and a dedicated artifact,” Clive said, “Maybe fifteen more.”

Bruce butted in, “So we could have around forty five sizable crabs on our hands?”

“It is a possibility, so that is what I would plan for,” Tristan said, “It would be better to plan for forty five and only meet ten than to plan for the reverse.”

Bruce nodded, “Sage, what do you suggest we do then, It sounds like you have experience with them.”

Bruce did not sound desperate, or even surprised. He most likely already had a plan ready. This question was likely an attempt to gauge Tristan. It raised his view of Bruce a little.

Tristan was willing to play that game, “I would get to high ground, like the top of a building and stab them as they try to come up over the edge.”

Clive looked like he wanted to say something, but Bruce beat him to it, “In theory that will work, but the houses have thatch roofs and that won’t hold our weight, the warehouses have tiled roofs, but they are too large to defend. ”

Bruce looked around to see if anyone else had ideas - Eve obliged him, “I would go with the warehouses. The doors open outward making them difficult for the ghost crabs to open, and we can utilize an open door to face the crabs one at a time.”

Bruce nodded, “Exactly, funnel them down in a location that is easy to defend.”

Several hours passed while they discussed plans. Tristan was pulled out of the discussion by the sounds of corn stalks rustling. He mentally chastised himself. Just because things had been quiet did not mean that they would stay quiet. His eyes flicked to the rows of corn that blocked his vision. This field had the rows set parallel to the road, so he could not see much.

Eve noticed his reaction and turned to face the field, just as something limped out. It was not a crab, it was a white herding dog. Eve had her spear pointed at it, but upon seeing its pitiful state she lowered it. The dog whined at them. Tristan looked down at the poor creature, it looked healthy, but was also acting hurt.

Bruce came to the correct conclusion first and stabbed his spear through the dogs heart. There was a sliding noise followed by the steel tip impacting something hard. A second shove pushed the spear all the way through with a crunching noise.

Eve made a choking noise and yelled at Bruce, “What did you do that for!”

Ray knelt by the body with a knife and cut the dog open, “It was the right call.”

Tristan may be one of the more cold hearted people here, but the only animal he had killed was a boa constrictor. Luke had gutted it. Ray pulled out a bloody mass with eight legs and a tail. The egg had hatched inside and started eating it from the inside out. A hole was cleanly punched through its center where Bruce had stabbed it. Eve wretched at the sight while Ray removed the stinger.

Tristan focused back onto the corn, “Well, Lady Squeaker, just let everything within earshot know where we are.”

It was not long before seven more crabs came rushing out of the corn. They were small, around the same size as the dog that had just died. However the major difference was that these ones had time to let their shells harden. Tristan was the closest and also the first to react.

Unlike most of his team mates, he had been given a lesson on their biology. The upper and lower plates could separate like a clam with teeth lining the interior to eat meat. Kale had told him about it and he intended to use that information. The needle point of the spear slipped cleanly between the plates and stopped the first crab in its tracks.

It collapsed, which created an unforeseen issue. Tristan could not get his spear out in time to handle the next one. So he dropped hit and drew his knives. He threw one at the closest crab and cut the tail off the next with the long knife. His sword breaker was not meant for throwing, but its edge was so sharp that it only needed to hit blade first.

The one without a stinger was pissed, but unthreatening. He had time to use his foot to brace the deceased crab holding onto his spear and jerk it out with his free hand. Almost as an after thought he cut the stinger-less crab in half and stabbed a second one. He had a bad angle on this one and while the point caught, it did not penetrate. Fortunately his body weight was enough to drive it to the ground.

He looked around to see Eve and Bruce handily eliminating their’s. Clive was sitting on his butt, scrambling back from one that Ray had tackled. He was using his knife to little effect to stab the crab. Tristan contemplated helping, but realistically, they could make it back before any eggs could hatch making this confrontation harmless in the long run. Best to let Ray get some experience.