by David Greer
Chapter 10
The White Rock tavern bustled with life, banter, and sucker punches. Ale flowed like a river rapid into the eager mouths of stone-workers, traders, farmers, and anybody else looking to wash away a week of labor and stress. The sun had descended below the horizon and outside it was cloudy, dark, and cold but inside the tavern a roaring fire and roaring laughter kept bodies and spirits warm.
The door swung open letting in a gust of chilled night air. A man entered with a quick, steady step and a second man followed whose large muscular frame took up most of the doorway. The larger man went straight to an empty table in the corner while the other approached the jovial crowd. Nobody took notice of the two newcomers. The crowded tavern was focused on a man whose voice boomed from the center of the crowd. He spoke of a strange horned monster he recently killed. Gasps of shock and awe surged through his captivated audience as he described the beast while bouts of laughter rang out when he told of his stumbling friend drunk on tea.
Tea? Odd for somebody to be drunk on tea, Leo thought to himself as he swam through the crowd toward the storyteller. He slid easily past two more men and found Grimey at the center of the crowd, mug in hand toasting with several others. Leo recognized Smythe sitting nearby looking a bit red in the face as several other men clapped him on the back laughing.
Leo listened intently as Grimey described the snarling beast with saliva-drenched jaws. Very aggressive from the sound of it. Leo noted that the monster appeared after a man had committed murder in an act of mindless rage. Leo recalled hearing about the banshees being abnormally aggressive when the last kingpin showed up. The memory of the sneering giant eel shimmered in Leo's mind and the hunter wondered to himself if all these events were somehow related. It was like he could see the dots but couldn't connect them into a coherent picture.
“Leo my lad! You're back!” Grimey's voice boomed bringing the islander out of his daze. The bearded hunter clapped Leo on the back. The islander stumbled at the impact then noticed the frothy mug Grimey was holding out for him. Nothing like a little refreshment after a journey. Leo accepted the mug with a smile. When nobody was looking, Leo stealthily passed the mug to his companion, who was at his usual table in the corner.
“Now this man surely has a tale to tell!” Grimey boomed when Leo reappeared. All eyes turned to Leo.
The crowd at White Rock Tavern was in for a treat that night. Not only were they riveted at Grimey's story of a new monster but they were also treated to part two of Leo's tale about Northern Island's mysterious tragedy and his unrelenting quest for answers, which had led the islander to Thurn. Such excitement was rare in Quarry Town and the townspeople soaked up every moment and every detail so they could retell their own distorted versions and later on argue amongst each other over who got it right.
For the most part people from Quarry never left town and while they knew of Thurn and the archives they didn't know how it came to be. And Leo never shied away from an opportunity to share a story and a little history. He explained that long ago a group of men, who would eventually become known as the Seekers, set out on a quest for knowledge. Their mission was to learn all they could about all regions of the known world and record their findings in the hope that that knowledge would unify the regions. Imagine if travelers knew a town's customs and trade items before arriving. Imagine if hunters knew all the different monsters throughout Arlynd. People could communicate better, trade easier, and generally understand each other better.
The Seekers traveled tirelessly and recorded all they could. They mapped geography, learned about local economies, arts and crafts of different regions, local cultural practices, local heroes and hunters, and so on. After many years of travel, the Seekers reconvened, pooled their records, and created the archives. The archives were open to all who pursued knowledge. Many made their way and settled around the archives and the town of Thurn was born.
Throughout the generations the descendants of the original Seekers upheld their ancestor's title and tradition of gaining and recording knowledge. Others were welcome to contribute to the archives as well. Those who familiarized themselves with the records quite often became successful traders, renown herbal healers, master craftsmen, and more. However, over time some learned that knowledge could be used for profit and their intentions turned malicious. Records began to disappear. Conquerors and dictators began to rise in power taking advantage of economics and controlling trade routes. The Seekers did not intend for the knowledge of the archives to be used in this manner and as a result, the Seekers closed the archives to the outside world. But this did not keep the treacherous out. The archives were broken into many times. Some attacked and took records by force.
The Seekers, in turn, utilized their records of military strategy and defense and recruited soldiers. Thurn transformed from a town of scholars into a garrison of soldiers dedicated to the protection of the town and the archives. A thick stone wall was constructed around Thurn and only one gate allowed entry. Visitors were greeted with suspicion and weren't allowed near the archives. Scholars were scrutinized as possible spies and thieves. The philosophy that all knowledge should be open and shared had been locked away behind an iron gate.
Over time the thieves stopped bothering Thurn and the town hadn't been attacked in generations. The garrisoned soldiers did their job well. However, Thurn remained guarded. Even to this day sentries stood post at the gate and along the town wall at all times. Their duty was not to keep out people, or even monsters, but to ensure the archived records stayed within the walls. Only those of renown scholarly status or those who contributed to the archives were granted access. Leo was one of the fortunate few non-scholars to have access to the archives since he had been able to contribute a few records about Southern Island.
“Why can't they make copies of the records and share those?” a scruffy stone-worker called out.
“A bit greedy with them books wouldn't you say?” Grimey pitched in.
Leo gave the bearded hunter a short glance and continued. He switched from history to his current pursuit about ocean phenomena. All continued to be captivated much to Leo's pleasure. He had poured through records filed across generation of sailors and fisherman. There were stories about boiling seas, giant whirlpools, water spouts, Kraken attacks, and many other fascinating things. He also came across a story of a group of hunters that banded together to take down the Kraken. Five vessels sailed out into the deep ocean. Only one returned with less than half its crew. But there was nothing about an ocean event devastating enough to wipe out an island. The town of Port was once destroyed by a giant water surge. But again Leo realized that destroying a town is much different from wiping out an entire island and its people. Many in the tavern nodded their agreement.
Leo went on to tell how after having been buried in the ocean records for so long, he drifted towards the historical records about Orion.
“You went and read bedtime stories?” Grimey asked.
“Bedtime stories inspired by true events, yes.” Leo answered. Orion was a hunter of legend. A man who's skill saved the world and rid it of the most powerful monsters to ever exist, as the story goes. Leo, much like everyone else, grew up hearing of Orion's great feats and victories against dragons, giant lions, evil forest spirits, and so on. It was even told that Orion had defeated the Kraken, a feat nobody believed was possible, especially since the Kraken still lurked in the deep ocean.
Over the centuries the stories of Orion had become so embellished that the line between history and fantasy blurred. Many took the stories of Orion to be pure fantasy while few held to the belief that every story was rooted to an actual event. Leo was one of the latter. But whether they were mere bedtime stories or valid history, Orion existed nonetheless.
The townsfolk at the White Rock listened to Leo's description of Thurn and his search of the archives with wide eyes and quiet mouths. Event Grimey kept mostly quiet, though he accomplished this by keeping his mouth occupied with constant draughts
of ale.
The night went on and grew into early morning. Casks of ale had been emptied and Leo had long ago finished sharing his stories. Many had gone home and the White Rock had settled to a small gathering of friends accompanied by a few stragglers. Smythe had left long ago still red in the face from the ridicule he endured. The once roaring fire had become a pile of bright glowing embers that cast the tavern in a deep orange. Leo had been waiting for the crowd to thin and took the opportunity to approach Grimey. The islander had questions about the small furry monsters he recently met.
“Cute little buggers aren't they?” Grimey said. “Deadlings is what they're called. Beady eyes, fluffy fur, and their barks sound like harmless whimpers. Yeah, them little critters are deceiving things. You try and pet 'em?”
“Yes.” Leo answered. “It was strange. I knew in my mind I should not have reached out but a yearning in my heart guided my hand. I was helpless but yet I relished in the sensation. Next thing I knew I was being bitten and they were trying to drag me to the ground.”
Grimey took a swig from his mug while he listened and then explained the deadling's ruse. Their gaze has the ability to entrance those who stare too deeply. The critters then turn on the charm and lure their unsuspecting victim closer. Then they pounce. Deadlings may have soft eyes but their teeth are sharp. The critters are solitary monsters but others are never far away. When one has a hold on somebody the others sweep in like scavengers to get a piece of their own.
“One deadling is a nuisance but if enough of them gather they can topple a man over. And when they get you on the ground is when they can tear you apart.” Grimey said. “Can't let them ankle-biters knock you down.”
“You seem to know the monsters in these parts well.” Leo said.
“A man must know his home and his trade.” Grimey took a drink.
“Listen. My companion and I.” Leo gestured to the muscular man in the corner whose head was propped up on his fist once again catching up on his sleep. “We will be traveling to Port. We could use someone of your knowledge to help us through the woods.”
“I'm flattered Leo but my place is here. The banshees been acting strange and deadlings usually don't show up along the roads this time of year. I watch out for my own folk before I go wandering foreign hills and woods.”
“I understand. But think about it my friend. We will be heading out in a matter of days. I'll ask again if you'll join us at that time.” Leo stood to leave and added, “Clyde and Smythe seem more than capable of fighting off the banshees and deadlings. And from what I've heard from your tales, Scully is shaping into a rather fine hunter. I doubt Quarry will be in danger if you leave for a few days.”
“Your companion.” Grimey said. “He's got a name don't he?”
“Yes. Perhaps you can ask him for it.”
Grimey sat back easily as he watched Leo and his companion leave White Rock. The bearded hunter took a long draught and emptied his mug. He sat by himself for a long while pondering. Why did the islander ask him to come along? They've traveled through the woods many times. Could one encounter with deadlings shake him up that much? Doubtful. There must be another reason. Although Grimey had to admit he had always been curious about who those two really were. Travelers? Traders? Mercenaries? Thoughts swirled in his head and he turned his attention to the fireplace. The once orange embers had faded to a dull red.
Outside, along the outskirts of Quarry, Leo stood under a clear night sky gazing into the heavens. He searched the skies and found the figure of Orion, the legendary hunter from centuries past. A hunter so grand in his accomplishments that he was awarded a place among the stars. He spotted the three stars that made up Orion's belt, and then the faint stars of his blade. Then the brighter stars which made up Orion's legs and shoulders to the start that curved smoothly to form Orion's bow. Leo thought of his own bow.
Every time the islander gazed up at Orion he became filled with purpose and wonder and an unceasing motivation for greatness. It was Leo's favorite constellation ever since he was a small child star gazing from the shores of Southern Isle and it was his dream to become a hunter great enough to earn a spot among the stars right next to his hero.
This night, however, Leo sensed a difference in Orion. A difference just on the verge of perception. The red star Betelgeuse, which made up Orion's shoulder burned slightly brighter than usual. Leo knew Betelgeuse varied in brightness from time to time but his knowledge of celestial signs told him this was different. Leo would keep a close eye on Orion in the coming weeks. When Betelgeuse burns brighter than usual it's the first sign that all of Orion may burn brighter in the night sky. And when Orion ignites it's a clear warning of a coming danger.
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