The Thing in the Marsh: A Fantasy Horror Tale

The Thing in the Marsh

Teagan Cross was miserable.

There were lots of words to describe her current situation.  But the foremost word in her mind was miserable.  Such was the lot of those who had known skill with a blade.  When goblins attacked a village, or a child came up missing...  Those with blade skills were the first ones the frightened eyes turned to.  Teagan was certainly skilled with a sword.  She had, however, zero experience with children, missing or otherwise.  For that was what had brought her to this miserable circumstance.  A missing child.

She and her mentor had been passing through the tiny little village of Greenleaf, just three days prior.  On their way home to the capitol city of Damus-"Jewel in the West", it was supposed to be a stopover for the night.  A stop she was more than willing to take, as she had slept on the ground for a week and a day.  A warm, soft bed, a roof, and a hot meal at the time had sounded like something from the heavens.  Now she was wishing they had kept going through the night.  The long periods of traveling were nothing new to Teagan.  She'd spent the past couple years at the right hand of Jonah Cross.  He was her mentor, her protector,  her father figure, her boss.

It seemed a lifetime ago, when she ran away from home.  When she left the life of privilege that she had been born into.  A life where the outcome and the choices were not hers to decide.  She HAD to escape that life. Once she became old enough to figure out exactly what was expected of the daughter of rich nobles, she felt every second she spent in that life was a link in a chain, shackling her soul, draining her very being.  Then, when all seemed it couldn't be any worse, her parents informed her that they had arranged a wedding for her which would be financially beneficial to both families.  Some  rich fop.  She didn't even know his name, had never met him.  How could she marry this person?  And furthermore, how could her family do this to her?  So she had ran, stole away like the proverbial bandit in the night.  She never looked back, never intended to go back.  Teagan had taken as much money as she could comfortably carry, stolen from her father's coffers, and the clothes on her back. 

Making her way to Damus had been the easy part.  But the little money she had left had run out far too quicky, and soon Teagan found herself on the streets of the capitol.  She was an attractive, young high born girl, and in many ways that made things much harder for her. 

But had Jonah not come across her path when he did, her fate would have been far worse than what had awaited her when she was known as Teagan Darkhayve. As he passed through the busy Damus marketplace, Jonah's keen ears had caught the sounds of a scuffle from a dark alley.  As he burst into the alleyway, he beheld five ruffians accosting a pretty young girl. Well, she'd probably be pretty if she wasn't so filthy and obviously malnourished.....Her clothes torn from trying to fight them off.  Her bright eyes looked at him, full of tears and pleading. 

Their defeat was swift at the hands of Jonah Cross.

He had saved her from a group of brigands with ill intent that day, and after a bit of begging from her, he took her in and taught her to fight.  He had no wife, no children.  In Teagan he'd suddenly gained a daughter.  She was a quick learner, and she had great skill.  She was small, but as her training advanced, she became lean and powerful.  She began calling him father, using his last name.  He didn't object.  Even before he'd grown to love the girl, he'd grown to respect her.  She had become a valuable asset in his work.  They would make a great team.

So when the bells began to ring that night as they lounged by the fire in the common room of the Two Fingered Orc Inn and Tavern, the look Jonah and Teagan shared was a knowing one.  Their travels had all too well taught them the meaning of such a racket.  Someone was in trouble.  And everyone in the tiny village had already heard word of the heavily armed travelers.  By the time the first villagers burst into the inn, they were already geared up.