Lightning flashed against the sky and cut through the black belly of night and a heavy blood of rain began to come down. Beneath its heavy patter and the pound of thunder was the slow steady slosh of footsteps and the ring of armour. The gatemen who sat upon their hard stools, squinted into the darkness and saw a man come into view.
"Halt, who goes there?" they called out.
The traveler stopped, and beneath his hood a harsh voice responded in turn.
"I just need a place to stay," The man said, as he shook between breaths. "It's very cold. Will you please let me in?"
The guards sighed at the desperation of his words.
"It is a long way to get here. You walk all of it?" they asked.
The man's black hood shook. "No, my horse twisted its leg a few leagues back. I had to put her down. Will you please open the gate?"
One of the guards made to immediately let the man in, as was the custom to do with these weak travelers in need of help. However, he was stopped by the other. For his comrade was a more cunning individual and he felt a certain tension from the traveler. His companion disagreed with him though and cursed at him and motioned to the sorry state of the man.
So for a moment the guards grumbled suspiciously amongst themselves. It was strange, this man, the guard, tried to argue to his comrade. For lone travelers rarely ventured to this town. Even if they did there was not much for them here. Especially during this time of the year. And what was he carrying on his back? All good stuff I bet, the other guard had tried to argue in turn, as he pitifully looked down upon the stranger. That would not suffice for the other guard though and it would not suffice for the lord of this place. The suspicious guard turned back to the man.
"What are you here for? Are you a mercenary, we have no need for such trouble here?" The suspicious guard shouted.
Again the man's hood shook at the question. "No," he said and gestured towards himself "I have no weapons at all. Except for my hunting knife. And I would never use a blade for gold. The gods don't allow it."
He spoke with a conviction and the suspicious gatemen seemed to relax a bit. A dagger was nothing, they could take him easy if need be.
"However," he said and the gatemen tensed again. "I know how much it takes to survive. And I always pay my share."
Suddenly his arm flicked up and the gatemen hands shit to their crossbows, but stopped when two silver coins clattered at their feet. The pair looked at each other and then back at the stranger.
"It'll cost two gold." They respond in turn.
The man shifted and looked back the way he had come and then his shoulders sagged.
"Of course, but I can't throw the gold in the dark. I don't want to lose it..."
Then he laughed a very shrill laugh, an almost nervous laugh and the guardsmen laughed too. However, they laughed at their luck and thought hungrily of the gold and things they would buy as they caressed their crossbows.
-------------------------------------------------------
The Inn's door opened and another gust of wind blew over the patrons, and once again Izaak grumbled to himself.
Snow and cold I hate this miserable place, Izaak thought.
Despite being from the Iron Peaks, the cold and its abundance no matter how mild or bone freezing made him seethe at its touch. He embraced his cup of tea and felt the warm steam against his face.
Why don't they have bath houses here?, he thought. These uncultured Rovani' could use one for their stink at least.
Izaak sighed to himself and looked up at the man who had just entered and quickly averted his gaze when his eyes met the stranger's. He was not so tall, but he seemed to loom in the doorway like a dark storm cloud. His mail was black like old blood, his boots black like dark earth, his hair black like a raven's, and his clothes black like the night sky. And his sword…
His sword was black like the void. It was a hulking thing. Double the thickness of a regular blade and wider too. Yet the hilt was the same length as any other. There was nothing to balance the accursed thing out. If any normal man swung it, the momentum would carry him along with it. And even the largest and strongest men would have difficulty pulling it back after a swing. No, men who could wield such weapons were of different ilk. They were not true men anymore.
Besides what would men like that come here for. To this petty town, with a petty keep, and an even pettier lord. Such men went for greater things. To the lands heroes embarked to, and to the call of opportunities that most feared to even think about. But not here.
The other patrons shuddered at his sight too and flinched at his heavy footsteps that fell upon the floor like hammer strikes.
He stopped in the middle of the room and slowly turned to the crowd.
"Are any of you the lords men? He asked, his words sharp and cold.
In response a large black bearded man with a big chest stood up, a sword swinging at his hip.
"Who asks?," he demanded.
"It was me just now. Are you blind or something," the stranger replied with a wolfish grin.
The big man scowled at the remark and placed his hand on his hilt
"You know I could have your tongue for that," he said and stepped towards the man. "I'm the Captain of the guard here. And I won't let soiled mouth whoresons talk to me like that."
All the patrons of the inn now looked upon the two with silent breaths. Despite being nearly a whole head taller than the stranger, the two seemed quite equal in height.
"Ah, well this is very good," The stranger said gleefully. "You are exactly the kind of person I was looking for. You see, I have something very special to show to your lor…"
The stranger was cut off as the inn door loudly crashed open and a stampede of metal boots fell upon the floor. Outside the shouts of men could be heard between the ring of frantic bells. Three red faced guards now stood at the entrance and a thin one with a scarred ear rushed forward. His face was pale like a ghost.
"Captain! Captain something broke in. The gatesmen are all dead! Something… Something horrible killed them." The thin guardsmen said as he collapsed at the captain's feet.
At his words the patrons started to whisper words of anxiousness and several rushed out on shaky legs.The captain stared at the guard in silent bewilderment for a moment, but then went red with furious confusion and yanked the guard to his feet.
"What in the name of the gods are you talking about?" he sputtered. "How could nine armed men be killed without so much as a peep. Who was on watch? Who fell asleep?" He said and he turned to the other guards and screamed at them. "Go guard the lord."
The guard shook beneath the Captain's grasp and stammered. "We have, he is safe. But the beast it's still out there. It took Estev and Costin, quick as they stepped in the dark to meet it. Their plate did not to stop its claws at all apparently. As soon as Dorel told me of this, I raised the bells and made sure to call the rest of the guard."
The guards report made Izaak sigh and he continued to think his dismal thoughts. Gods what a horrible place this is. He then paused for a moment though and thought curiously, 'apparently' that's odd, and he looked at the stranger and his imposing blade.
The other patrons were not in thought like Izaak, but of course in a frenzy of panic. More ran away in fright and there were wails of despair from some, and a child began to cry as it clutched at their mother for comfort. "What do we do?" they asked the Captain.
The Captain looked at the thin guardsmen and simply said, "Deal with the beast, I'm going to check on Lord Riese," and he stomped away, completely forgetting about the strange traveler who Izaak thought looked very much annoyed.
The thin guardsmen now stood glassed eyed as the townsfolk demanded what they should do. He stood perplexed and as was common with the guards here, as far as Izaak had noticed, the man quickly lost temper.
He brandished his short sword at them and hissed, "Just stay inside and quit yer noise and I'll make sure you aren't hurt. But if you…" and then he paused as he felt a strong hand clasp on his shoulder.
"I think I can be of help, " the Stranger said. "If it's the beast I think of. I'm sure I can stop it." Once again the stranger gave his wolfish grin.
The guardsman lowered his sword, not sure what to say, but then saw the man's horrid blade. "Fine, " he quivered, "Just don't get in the way." He then left with the other guards and the strange swordsman in tow.
Izaak looked at them miserably and thought, what a destitute hunting party, and mournfully looked at his tea. Slowly he felt the heat come back to the inn, now that the door was finally closed. I really do hate the cold, he thought, I just hate it so much. But I hate this place even more. Gods what do I do? Then with two big swallows he finished his tea and made to catch up with the hunters.
-------------------------------------------
He trailed them from the shadows as they made their way to the gatehouse, the rain masking his steps. In their march there, several other guards had joined the group. The stranger by some silent agreement had taken the lead. Though this was not surprising given the sorry state of the guards. Many of them were unkempt and thin like the one who had talked to the Captain. Others had a largeness that stole too much breath from their lungs to make them good fighters. Only the strange Swordsman who now led them seemed worthy of defeating the any formidable threat.
"Costin is here" the thin guard said and stuck his torch out to the corner of the wall.
The dim light shone over grey stone and several bundles of shredded steel and cloth came into view. From it glowed the dull white of bones and the dark red of blood. The swordsman approached and squatted next to what had been the man's chest and then stopped. His head snapped to where Izaak stood beneath the shadow of a roof. The guards twitched at the fast motion and shared angst at where the Swordsman was looking. The thin guardsman rasped over the rain.
"What is it? You hear something?"
"No. But there is something over there," he said and pointed directly where Izaak stood.
Izaak remained where he was though, nervous but not afraid. He could see the Swordsman's eyes and could tell that the man's sight could not perceive him. How could he? If he did he would just say someone was tailing them. Not 'something'. The swordsman continued to stare in his direction and slowly he reached towards his back where his blade was. He did not unsheathe the blade, instead he brought forth a wicked curved dagger, which flew from his hand as soon as it came into view. It thudded in the dark with a sickening crunch and the guards jumped at the quick action.
"You hit it!" one of them proclaimed.
"No," the Swordsman said, "It moved." He took a torch from one of the guards and pulled his dagger from the frame of the house. He inspected the area looking for prints but there were none. Yet there was a thin streak of blood on the blade.
You'll not find anything to follow you bastard, Izaak thought as he held his bruised rib. He had intended to make himself known to the party but he was ever weary of strangers and now more weary all the more of this one. The stranger possessed abilities that were uncommon and he had the blade to pair with it. It was better to let them sort out this mess with the monster for themselves. If there was one at all.
Hopefully it is and it'll kill some of the guards. It'll make all this mess the easier, Izaak thought and he slipped silently towards the gatehouse before the group got to it.
Just as he suspected there was not a man at the gatehouse. The guards seemed to lack any training or wisdom. The only ones who did guarded the Lord Riese. As he made his way in, his nostrils were filled with the stench of iron and he could see the blood splattered across the beds. Or what had once been the beds. They were mere splinters now that were entwined with mangled corpses. One of them still had his face and his mouth was open in a frozen scream. They had all been killed as if in an instant. Not one of them had seemed to be able to even get out from beneath his sheets. How could something move so quickly? It simply wasn't possible, unless the beast had attacked silently. That was not possible either.
As he made his way up the stairs he found more blood. It was everywhere, sprayed about from the brutal attack. At the top he found two guardsmen clutching their crossbows. Their bodies had not been so ravaged and were relatively whole besides the deep slashes in their leather and heads. There was another one though too. He wore no armour and only had on a thin tunic and not even his boots. He lay slumped over the crank to the door, one deep slash that had cut through his ribs and down to his hip. As he inspected further his foot something scraped beneath his foot. He bent down and found a silver coin that was imprinted with a serpent in collar.
You are very far from home, Izaak thought as he pocketed the coin.
The third man had been drained of his blood. He looked at the man. His hands hung limp at his sides and they were clenched shut. He had closed the door for nothing.
Why close the door? The beast was already inside killing everyone else. All very convenient. Horribly clever.
As Izaak hummed to himself at the cleverness he heard the wail of a dying man and the ring of steel. He turned in the flashes of lightning he saw a guard being dashed against the wall by a monstrosity of an animal. It had a head like a lizard but the fur of a wolf and its body was more akin to a cat's. From each of its front paws protruded four claws as long as swords and they shot through the air to puncture another guard into the mud.
Izaak felt his legs go weak at what he saw and he felt the cold mixing with the rain against his skin. He wanted to leave, to go back to the warm fires of the inn. Back to the hot springs of the cragged peaks. No. No, he couldn't. He couldn't lose this easy opportunity to fear.
Smother it.
He rushed from the gatehouse and he felt his legs gain strength again and his heart race with anticipation. He looked for the Swordsman and saw him as he paced in front of the guards, he did not hold his sword but rather his curved dagger. He taunted it and the beast growled and ripped his claws from a guard's back. It lunged at the man with incredible speed but he deftly sidestepped its claws, but another guard was not so lucky. His arm was torn from his socket and he fell into the mud as he screamed in agony. At the same time the Swordsman arced his blade and carved through the beast's side. It shuddered back and let out sound like screeching metal that made Izaak wince. The swordsman was unaffected by it and once again taunted the beast, who moved on him again.
The swordsman was skilled though and he danced away and he swung his blade in flurry that tore open the wound further. Once again he moved between the guards and three more were cut down by the creature. Only the thin guard and a man with blonde hair remained. The creature having sensed some doom from its potential wound was filled with a frantic rush of survival and it thrashed with a fury at its attackers. The thin guard was thrown back and the swordsman was caught in the chest but his armor held and he rolled to the side.
Sensing his chance Izaak rushed in and pulled his blade. The beast had slowed from its wound and Izaak held the single edged blade over his shoulder. As the beast sought to snap at the swordsman, Izaak brought down the steel in one motion through the animal's tail. In an instant he felt the air rush from his lungs and was flung backwards into the ground. His sword dripped with blood and he tried to stand, but he felt his cribs crack with white hot pain and he fell into darkness as two eyes like burning coals descended on him.