by Heath Pfaff
Arthos’ voice drew me from my thoughts. “Sometimes it’s a particularly nasty set of brigands. Occasionally there is a beast or beasts from Revenant Swamp to be dealt with. We had to deal with a dangerous cult once.” He shrugged. “It varies time to time.
“Revenant Swamp?” I asked, the words sticking in my head. “I didn’t think revenants were real.”
Arthos mulled this over for a moment before answering. “There are many dangerous things in that swamp. They’re all natural, but some of them mimic very unnatural things. Legend says that bodies laid in the swamp’s waters will sink down into the mud, and then rise again full of hate and malice. In a way that’s true, but it’s because of a particularly nasty parasite. It lives in the mud at the bottom of the swamp and infects corpses, taking over their husk and using it to move from place to place in the swamp. They only eat the dead, though. It’s horrifying to see, but not particularly dangerous. No, there are far more dangerous things in the swamp than the so-called ‘revenants,’ but people are horrified by the thought of dead things returning.”
“Are they horrified of the Wardens, then?” I asked, since in a way most of us were revenants, though revenants created by our own Will.
Arthos just smiled. “In a way they are, but they don’t see us as undead, and I’m not sure we qualify as that anyway. There is no magic that keeps us moving. It is the force of Will, and that is a wholly natural thing.”
I wondered at what point Will stopped being magic and became natural to Arthos. It still felt like magic to me, even if I was beginning to understand how it worked, and how it could be used to shape things around me. There were still parts of it that were not only magic, but a mystery as well to me. The things that could be done with sharp control of Will interested me. The truth could be pulled from a person, or their individual Will could be broken and overridden with the right application of precise power.
A powerful Will user with control could use other people as puppets if they so chose. That was terrifying. I still remembered what it felt like to be locked in place by Will, to be compelled to speak of things I didn’t wish to. It was a terrible feeling, and that seemed to be magic if nothing else was. Now that I had gained Will of my own, those complex manipulations were still magic in my eye. Arthos wasn’t even teaching me the basics of such skills. My control was simply too far lacking.
The tower loomed above us before long, and then we were being guided inside. A nervous looking man dressed in expensive clothes was babbling at us about the honor of being able to greet us while at the same time looking as though he’d rather be anywhere else in the entire world. His emerald green robes were covered in tiny, shiny bits of metal that reflected every light we passed in a dazzling way. The robes themselves were too long. They dragged on the ground, and the sleeves were several sizes too large so that he had to hold them back from his hands. It was the most impractical outfit I’d ever seen. Some small part of me, long buried beneath training and discipline, wondered what it would be like to have a dress made out of the same shimmering material, perhaps something clingy and revealing in places. Would I look pretty? Perhaps the shining lights would take away from what I thought of as an ugly face, and people wouldn’t notice that my body was covered in scars. Some small part of me still wanted to be pretty and desirable.
This line of thought ended as we reached an ornate door carved with intricate designs and our guide cleared his throat and knocked. “Sir, the Wardens have come.” He announced loudly.
I heard hushed swearing on the other side of the door, and our green clad guide winced and shot a worried glance at us as though we might strike him down for his associates foul language. It was clear that the man on the other side of the door wasn’t happy we were there, but a moment later a clear, commanding voice answered.
“See them in, Telfrod.” He called, and our guide nearly tumbled over himself in his haste to open the door and let us into the room beyond.
As it turned out it was an office, excessively large, with a shocking amount of glass along the wall facing out. I could only guess how much money had been spent to build such a luxurious thing, though there were some cracks in the large pieces of glass, and it was dim in places so the pane had probably been cheaper than it should have been. How did it affect the strength of the wall? I wondered. I’d never seen glass at even a quarter of that size.
A man sat at a desk in front of us. He was dressed in an outfit of bright blue with green accents on it. It was in a similar cut as the man who’d led us up the tower, Telfrod. Clearly this was a fashion of some kind, though I’d never seen it in Black Mark. Bright colors were rare to be worn in public there, and no one would put on something so ridiculously oversized. It seemed one would be likely to fall over their own clothes in such an outfit.
“I’m glad you’ve arrived! It has been too long, my esteemed friends.” The man at the desk said, standing and bowing deeply. “Arthos, I haven’t seen you in a few years. Did you not venture out beyond Mark last year?”
“I was on a different mission last year, Galidol.” Arthos answered, not going any further into it. “We’ve come to take care of any difficult business you might have, as a show of trust and faith between your city and the capital. Do you have tasks for us?” The words seemed like a formality, something said every time he came here.
“We do.” He said quickly.
Arthos looked just a bit surprised, but I doubted anyone who didn’t know him would notice. He did a wonderful job at disguising the expression with a nod.
“The northern trade road has been repeatedly accosted by monsters, willifen. The damages have been terrible. Traders have been taking other routes. It’s costing them, and us, a fortune. A dozen hunters went out two weeks ago to do something about it, but they didn’t come back. We’ve had to close down the road entirely.” Galidol looked a bit uncomfortable. He shifted nervously in his seat and I wondered why. Was he lying? I’d read a few passages on the creatures, but they had only been mentioned passingly, and then only as possible legends.
“You’re certain it’s willifen? Could be a rabid bear, or perhaps a pack of wolves that decided men were easier prey?” Arthos looked a bit suspicious himself.
Galidol still looked uneasy, but he nodded. “It was definitely willifen, Arthos. Believe me, I wouldn’t make a claim like that lightly. We have a few witnesses now and they all report the same thing. Several large creatures that walked on their hind legs, but could also run on all fours. They had the shape of very large wolves to a degree, longer snouts full of teeth, resistant to arrows. They moved together and attacked with cunning. Bears don’t attack in groups, and wolves aren’t big enough, dexterous enough, or clever enough to perpetrate these attacks. I am convinced it’s willifen.”
“They’ve never traveled beyond the swamp before. Do you know what brought them so far down into the valley?” Arthos asked, still looking unhappy.
“The attacks started abruptly. At first we had one with a few witnesses no one believed, and then nothing for months, and then another happened with a few witnesses. A week later a single witness returned, then another single witness. That one died shortly after he got here. After that traffic stopped coming through the road and we began to get birds with messages about missing caravans. I have the accounts of the incidents if you wish to review them. They are all pretty much the same. If it’s not willifen, I don’t know what it is.” It was clear Galidol was upset, and I was beginning to understand why.
Willifen, were uncommon enough that reporting one, or a pack of them, was akin to laying blame at the feet of Forest Spirits. Most men thought they weren’t real. Arthos seemed to know otherwise, but even he didn't think they’d be here. I had a great many questions, but I kept them to myself for now.
Arthos gave a sharp nod. “I want all records of the accounts, and local maps with the areas of the attacks marked. We’ll investigate this and clear the road. Was there any other business we should look into while we’re in the are
a?”
“There have been a rush of strange events beyond the walls lately, sightings of unfamiliar things in the woods, whispers of families vanishing from their homesteads. I have a report . . . “ He looked down at his desk, shuffling through the papers for a time, and then pulled out a bundle of papers that had been wrapped in a leather binder. “This one. This says that a group of men in black robes came down the road to this man’s farm and banged on his door, broke into his home, and chased him and his wife into their own storm cellar before vanishing. Vanishing! They didn’t leave. They vanished. I mean, these are strange stories, and those go about, but it seems the last couple of years we’ve been getting more and more of this . . . this madness.” He sighed and shrugged.
“If you’ll take care of willifen we’ll be happy. That is the most pressing concern. The rest of this is just strange and confusing.” He tossed the report back on his desk.
Arthos nodded. “We’ll look into things. Just get me those reports. Will we be staying in our normal room?”
Galidol nodded. “I imagine it was being set up moments from when you were spotted at the gate. I’ll have the reports copied and the originals sent to you as soon as I can.”
Arthos gave another nod, and then he turned and headed for the door. I fell in at his back, questions almost overflowing from me. It was difficult to hold my tongue as we made our way from the tower to an inn that was nearby. The inn was called The Wanderer and looked to be rather fancy. The moment we stepped through the door a man leapt up from the front desk to greet us. He bowed deeply.
“Master Wardens, your accommodation is already prepared. Shall I show you there now?” He said, voice crisp and formal.
“Yes, and we’ll want food delivered in the next hour.” Arthos replied.
“Of course, sir.”
We were led to a room in the back of the fancy establishment, past rooms that looked to be of considerable size. The entire place was well taken care of, the hallways clean and clearly maintained. The rooms were all quiet, meaning they were built with keeping sound in as a priority. When we reached our room, the man who’d greeted us opened it with a key and handed the key to Arthos.
We stepped inside and pulled the door closed behind us. Arthos locked it and then we walked in and put down our packs. The room was as well cared for as the rest of the building, with two small beds, a desk and a few chairs. It also had a small fireplace with wood stacked nearby in case we wished to have a fire. That was a nice touch for a place like this. Most didn’t trust their tenants with fire inside.
“What’s a willifen?” I asked, deciding my questions needed to start somewhere. The little I knew of them was far too incomplete if we were going to actually face such creatures. “Why is it such a surprise that they are attacking people?”
Arthos nodded to himself. “They really should have educated you better on the more dangerous creatures that travel the world. Willifen are the creatures that inspired old stories of shapeshifters, men who could turn into wolves or bears. They look a bit like men meshed with beasts, but the truth of it is that they’re natural creatures, or maybe another type of people but with not quite as much civility as humans have taken to over the years.”
He went to his pack and pulled out a map that seemed to cover the local area. “This is the city, where we are now, and here . . . “ He pointed to a large dark area on the map. “This is the Revenant Swamp.” He drew his finger up past that to the opposite side where an area was decorated with mountains and rocks. “This is where the willifen make their homes normally. Sometimes they come down and hunt in the Revenant Swamp, but they don’t go past those murky waters. They have no reason to most of the time. Occasionally we’ll encounter one that has left its lands for some reason, and usually they run away. If they do attack, usually they’re dealt with quickly, but judging by what we’ve heard today, they’ve come down in force. That is troubling news indeed.”
He went on, only pausing briefly to gather his thoughts. “Most people consider them folklore, legends, old stories to scare children. In fact there are all kinds of stories about willifen sneaking into homes and stealing naughty children, or going after kids who play outside after dark. That’s the sort of stories you expect a place to have. It makes sense to scare children away from bad behaviour. You take some monster you’ve heard about and give it a purpose. Eventually people forget what that monster was based on, what the truth is behind it. No one wants to talk about the willifen seriously because they have been just stories for a long, long time.”
“But these ones aren’t just stories, correct?” I asked, wondering if he thought this was a real case, or perhaps just brigands making themselves seem like monsters. That seemed like it could be a possibility. It would be easy enough to wear disguises and scare folks.
“We’ll have to investigate to know for sure, but brigands leave signs of their passage. People would see fires burning near the roads. Willifen, even if they used fires, travel fast enough that they would be far away from the road before starting one. A band of brigands pretending to be willifen would have to be very committed to the cause to leave the accounts we have here.” Arthos noted, shuffling through the papers. “They’d have to forgo horses, bows, swords, and then still be able to take down an entire caravan. The wounds on the survivors also match the kind a willifen would leave. I’d say we’re dealing with beasts of some kind, and they might well be willifen.”
A knock sounded at the door and Arthos went and opened it. A man was there with a tray full of food. Arthos thanked him, took the tray, and came back into the room. We sat down at the desk and began to eat as we continued talking.
The warm meat and bread filled the air with a delightful scent that forced me to address exactly how hungry I was. It took some effort not gorge myself on the surprisingly delicious food. Even talk of monsters on the roads couldn’t forstall my hunger.
“The other stories? Are those the normal kind of things you hear about?” People vanishing, and the strange sightings had immediately reminded me of Camiden. I still wasn't satisfied with having left the place behind, though a part of me never wanted to return there. It had been unsettling to say the least. The well, I knew, would haunt my memories for a long time.
“I don’t know exactly what to make of those stories. There are always strange whispers about. It doesn’t mean they have anything to do with what we saw in Camiden.” Arthos answered, but his answer gave away more than he probably meant it to. His answer indicated that he was thinking the same thing I was. This sounded much like what had happened in Camiden, and neither of us had put it behind us yet.
“What if the willifen coming down also has something to do with what happened in Camiden?” I pressed that line of thought. This felt like a way to explore the mystery that still scratched at the surface of my mind.
“That’s highly unlikely. Right now our main concern should be the willifen. I’ve seen them, but I’ve never had to fight them before. We’ll need to put a big enough dent in their numbers to make sure they retreat back to wherever they came from. They’re pack animals, or at least animals with a pack mentality. They tend to hunt in groups, and they will come to the aid of one of their own. That makes them very dangerous. We’re not immortal, despite how you might feel coming off of the water test. There is no cure for having your head chewed off. Healing yourself with Will requires that your body be mostly intact.” In that moment I thought that Arthos looked a bit tense.
“Are you afraid of the willifen?” I asked, curious. I was afraid myself, but I was doing my best to hide it.
“I am, and you should be too. Willifen are large, powerful creatures. They are bigger than men, usually, with bodies comprised of mostly muscle, fur and claws. They have jaws like wolves only much larger, and small yellow eyes that can pierce the dark. They don’t see well at a distance, but within combat range they see better than you or me. They use their claws as a primary means of attack, but their teeth will come in quickly if you bind
up their claws. They don’t generally choose to fight humans, but clearly this pack has a different mindset. They always fight together, and that is what makes them the most dangerous. We don’t know how many are out there, but it’s enough of them to wipe out a caravan. That is trouble.” He looked at me in a meaningful way, and I realized that his fear was all about me. He wasn’t worried that he’d be able to handle what was coming, but he was concerned that I wouldn’t be up to the task.
“I’m plenty afraid, and I’ll be cautious.” I assured him. “We have to do this, though, don’t we?” I asked, guessing that this wasn’t a commitment we could back out of. We proved our strength to this city by doing the tasks they couldn’t. They had to see us as indomitable for us to remain a symbol of strength and authority. The Wardens were always right, and they were always strong enough to defeat the enemy. The Iron Will could not be seen to bend.
Arthos nodded. “We do. We’ll review these reports tonight, and then leave first thing in the morning. Rest and knowledge will be our most important weapons. Well, our most important weapons that aren’t our actual weapons.” He seemed to relax some as he spoke. “Once the fighting starts those will clearly be our most important weapons.” He grinned and winked at me.