"What's wrong with stabbing things in the face?"
Claire stopped moving for a moment to blink at the skill's description. Logically, it made sense to her. But at the same time, it didn't. There was no reason not to attack an obvious weak point, after all.
She arrived at her destination shortly after she finished contemplating the effects of her newfound skills. The half reptile was surprised to find that, while the collection she wished to sort through was still present, the hellhog itself was gone. Its corpse had vanished, flesh, bones, and all. Foot and body prints aside, the only remnant of its existence was the occasional crimson stain upon the mossy backdrop. It was a bit off-putting, given that the desperate struggle was still clear in its killer's mind, but not strange enough to distract her from the task of sorting through the deceased hog's trophy collection.
It was difficult to find anything decent among the fleshless carcasses, and not just because everything was more or less the same shade of white. The large hardened fangs she had looted the first time around had been the cream of the crop. All the other potential weapons were notably worse. Most of the other enamel-based constructs were too small to function as instruments of war and few bones were any better off. Nearly every osseous remain she came across was too frail, too dull, heavily damaged, or all of the above. That wasn't news, of course, as Claire's first spear had been made of nothing but a broken rib and a stick, but she wanted to get her hands on something better if she could.
A whole hour of searching and sorting later, she was able to pick out a few passable pieces. The first was what looked to be the tip of a tail from a monster that used it as a weapon. It was jagged and shaped like a three-pronged pitchfork with the base of each blade fused together. It would've been perfect as a speartip if not for how dull its ends were. That wasn't to say that it was unusable, however, as remedying the issue was as simple as grinding down the edges. Claire wasn't a hundred percent sure that it would hold throughout the process, but there was no reason not to at least give it a shot once she got back to base.
Her second acquisition had almost been a veaber tail. Almost. Her plans took a sudden turn for the better when she accidentally smashed it with its replacement during a durability test. It turned out that the tails were a lot more fragile once detached from the veaber's bodies, a trait that was surprisingly common amongst minerals and monster parts alike. Many materials were known to either gain or lose durability based on the amount of mana contained within, and given that the rear appendage's owner had almost been deceased for an indiscriminate amount of time, its frailty came as no surprise.
Channeling her own magical energy through another one of the tails in the collection would have easily rectified the tail's main issue, but the blue blood discarded the idea in favour of keeping the bone she had used to smash it. The hefty organic mace stood at somewhere between half and three quarters of her height. She had dismissed it at first glance, but her tail experiment led her to discover that it was one of the few items still in perfect condition. Surprisingly, it continued to stay that way, even after she tried bashing it against a wide variety of objects for the sake of experimentation. Swinging it around wasn't easy, but the devastatingly heavy blows that it could deliver were well worth the trade off.
The only pre-sharpened weapons Claire managed to acquire were a pair of antlers just a bit longer than her forearms. They were somewhat like the club in that she hadn't actually considered them at first. Being attached to a skull had made them a little too unwieldy for her, even with her Makeshift Weapon Mastery skill. Fortunately, the violent application of a certain girthy bone just so happened to solve that particular problem. It turned out that the antlers were just as good as the fangs. Each featured a lengthy handle in the form of a blunt base as well as a series of pointed ends to do damage with. The only complaint she had was that they were curved as opposed to straight, but she was confident that she would be able to put them to good use with enough time and practice.
Unlike the four that preceded it, her fifth and final piece of loot was much less notable. The prospective spear shaft was thin, long, and light, everything it needed to be and nothing more.
"This supposed to be where the little shit was last seen?"
"It's what I heard. Doubt even the gods know if it's true."
Claire's ears perked up. The long, pointed organs angled themselves upwards and outwards as they caught a pair of distant voices.
Other people.
They were getting closer. Their words were becoming clearer and clearer with every passing moment.
At first, she thought to approach their owners for help, but stopped as she recalled that she knew nothing about the people she had nearly set herself up to encounter. It was entirely plausible that they were the sort that meant her harm. With that in mind, she packed up her newfound belongings, moved behind a large rock formation, and slowed her breathing to minimize the risk of discovery. Though it was uncomfortable, she even tucked her ears down close to the side of her head to further shrink her already tiny frame.
"Oh great, now we're working un-fucking-knowns. Which sorry bastard did you rip the news from this time?"
The first man's voice was fairly deep. For reasons beyond her understanding, he sounded both neutral and incredibly annoyed at the same time. His tone alone was enough to remind her of the ever irritable Rydland and his perpetual scowl.
"Beck, of course. Who else?"
The angry person's conversation partner had an even deeper voice, but unlike his companion, he sounded calm and relaxed, gentle even.
"Beck? Beck!? Fucking brilliant," complained the first man. "We're investigating a Hellhog's lair on that shortdick's terms? I should've fucking known."
"Beck was the only one that had any news."
"Can you two shut up already? You're going to get us killed."
A third, more feminine voice joined the conversation. She sounded almost as annoyed as the angrier man, but for what seemed a much better reason.
"Feh! You're the only one of us that'd get killed, Shortstuff. Unlike your tiny midget ass, me and Niel have got real legs. We're leaving you behind and getting the fuck outta here the moment the hellhog shows up."
"Why did I team up with this jerk?" said the girl, with a tired groan.
"You were worried about Gurd," said the man named Niel.
"Right. Of course I did," the girl sighed. "I'm starting to think Gurdy might not be worth the trouble."
They were so close that their footsteps were audible even through the moss. It wasn't all that difficult to distinguish between the three sets. Each was clearly in its own weight class. From the context of the conversation and the individual voices, she deduced that Niel was something along the lines of a giant, whilst the female sported an audibly generous waistline. She couldn't tell what the angry man was, but his footprints made it sound like he had an average build.
"Quit acting like you don't have a thing for him, Shortstuff," said the most irritable member of the party. "The whole damn citadel knows you want his tiny ass prick between your legs."
Citadel? There's a citadel?
"Excuse me?"
"What? You think we don't see the way you stare at him? Only time any bitch ever gets a look like that on her face is when she's got dick on her mind. Dumb slut."
"You piece of shit! I'm going to kill you!"
Claire was confused. She couldn't figure out the group's intentions. On one hand, they had stated that someone would die if they encountered a hellhog, and on the other, they were screaming loudly enough for her to think that they were trying their best to attract it. Are they just stupid?
"Oooohhh scary! The fat twat's going to poke me to death with her toothpick!"
"It's a sword, damn it, a sword!"
I'm really starting to think they're just stupid.
"Yeah, and it's even smaller than Gurd's dick."
"Buzz off!" she shouted. "I swear to Dorr, Eric, I am going to stab you in your sleep!"
Definitely just stupid. And vulgar.
"Oh, I'm sure you will, Shortstuff. I'm sure you will."
Claire could practically hear the man's idiotic smirk.
"Quiet. This is its nest."
Niel interrupted the shouting contest as the trio came to a stop. They were only a few short steps away from the rock that Claire had hidden behind, but not a single one had been able to detect the girl that had secretly deemed them to be amongst the cognitively inept.