Rael Ironflame
Newtale
February, 1703 AR
"My old church..." says the bar-keep, "The one to Pelor...It was recently closed and no one will tell us why."
"Go on," I say as he pauses.
"Well...The church has been in disrepair since then, and that was about a year ago. Windows are boarded up and broken, the fence is rusted, and the offerings of fruit and flowers are decayed beyond recognition, the salts only a bitter mound. Every night, a thick fog appears and shadows lurk about the old cemetery. Some say ghosts, I say thieves. Grave robbers," the man explains as he cleans a mug with an old rag. He looks just like the bartenders in the illustrations of children's books.
"Grave robbers?" Markkason asks, inquisitively.
"Aye," he starts again, "I never seen a ghost with my own two eyes. Why should I believe they exist?"
"They exist alright," replies Markkason, "Ever heard of necromancers? Curses?"
The man laughs.
"You believe that rubbish?"
"I do."
"Hmm," he growls, "Well whatever suits ya."
Sheltered man, I think, Must not travel outside the city much. Otherwise he'd have at least seen such a monster from a distance.
"Anyway, I've heard tourists complaining about this sort of...Aura about it. Say a shiver runs down their spines whenever they walk by. Not to mention the smell of rotten flesh. From open graves, no doubt."
"So what do you want us to do?" asks Elanya, clearly losing her brief moment of superiority.
"I'll let you spend the night for free if you tell me what's going on, and what we can do to fix it."
"How many rooms?" I ask.
"Three. One for each of ya," the bar-keep specifies, "Have we got a deal?"
"Indeed we have," I say, "Thank you."
"You're the one that deserves thanking, Sir. I'm sure you've got bigger matters to attend to."
"Not at the moment."
We walk away from the bar and sit at an empty table near a small, decorated window, looking out to the streets outside. The bards are still playing, but their tune is less wild now. Much more somber, but not what I would call sad. It's fitting for the moment.
"Again, I ask..." starts Markkason, his eyes unfocused, "Where should we start?"
"I'd say with the mayor. His home's just up North of here. The one with the notice board," says Elanya, who seems a little taken aback by our attention to her, "I-I mean he'd know what was happening. Wouldn't he?"
A flurry of ethereal, blue butterflies flutter from Markkason's palm. He smiles and looks up but his countenance drops as he sees us staring at him. The drunkenness shows clearly on his face...Maybe I shouldn't have forced him to drink a pint of ale after all.
"Doubt he'd say anything," I continue, "But it's worth a shot."
"Well I can't see any point in staying here much longer," says Markkason in an almost excited tone.
I nod and lead the way outside where a very happy dragon nearly pounces on me, but I give him a look before he jumps and he visibly calms. Elanya takes the lead and we follow the increasingly less crowded road. It's about midnight now, an odd time to go questing for shelter and small coin, certainly, but we don't have a lot of options.
"See?" says Elanya, pointing, "It's the one with the high rooftop."
"Mhm," I nod as we continue on, Kasai trailing behind us, "You know this town better than I do."
A small human girl, about eight years old, stares at me with wide eyes. When mine catch with hers, she bristles and turns to her friend, a dark haired boy around the same age. She whispers into his ear and they both laugh with high-pitched squeals, but they stop and look at me, afraid, when my expression turns to annoyance.
"He scares me a little..." she says to the boy under her breath. He nods, his lips pressed together tightly.
"He won't hurt you," says Markkason from behind me, his words a bit slurred. He turns to me and smiles, "Right?"
"Hugh," I sigh, "Never. It's my job to slay evil. Not children."
The children don't look very convinced, but they nod their agreement anyway and we continue walking.
"Shit!" curses Markkason.
"What's wrong?" inquires Elanya.
"My violin!" he yells, patting his pockets in nonsensical vein, "I left it back at the Meadowlark Inn! No way I can go back there now!"
"If we want a good night's rest, we have to hurry," says Elanya, seeming excited for no discernible reason, "There's probably a lost and found, we can all check there later."
Markkason looks down at his hands and stumbles forward a bit.
"What's that smell?" he asks as he rights himself.
Sharpening my senses, my nostrils are filled with the bitter stench of death and rot and an odd shiver runs through my body.
"I smell it too," says Elanya, covering her nose.
"The eerie shiver down our spines, the stench of rotten flesh, the fog...It's all true," I say, looking over at a mass of obscuring fog, the faint silhouette of a church among it.
"By Pelor, how did I miss that?" murmurs Markkason.
"I didn't see it at first either," I say, "Strange."
We quickly arrive at the mayor's place of residence. It's a smaller home than I'd expect a mayor to have, but it's about the same size as the surrounding cottages and buildings, apart from the roof. There's a small garden in the front where what look to be a young woman's bare footprints are imprinted into the soft, dry soil. Very few of the plants are alive, but the rows are all thoroughly weeded. I walk past the gate, through said garden and knock on the round wooden door but there's no response. So I try again and the results are the same.
"It is late. I mean last I-" starts Elanya but she's interrupted as the mail-slot on the door slides open.
"Did Bevi send you?" asks the voice belonging to the two, tired, old eyes staring at us through the slot, "Tell him I'll get him the money when Ivy and Erst get me the supply of crops I was promised and tell him to stop bothering me at witching hours."
"Bevi didn't send us," hiccups Markkason from behind me.
He's getting drunker by the minute... I think.
"Then kindly bug off," he says, shutting the mail slot.
"Hang on a minute," I say calmly, "We're here on our own business. Your church of Pelor."
The slot opens again with the same brown eyes peering at us from the darkness.
"What's that to you?" he grumbles.
"Just on a mission of sorts," I shrug, "Questing."
The slot closes again, and the sounds of several locks twisting click from behind the door and it swings open. An old brown haired man with sloped shoulders, a heavy gut and a tired, pug-like face stands before us in a nightshirt. His home is nearly completely dark other that the faint, yellow light coming from one candle to his left.
"My wife's sleeping and my daughter's probably sketching so don't speak too loud. Come in," he says, inviting us with a gesture of his hand, "Have a seat too. We don't get many questers in Newtale, being that there's only two Inn's and little to no monsters."
We all take a seat in some of the many chairs, sofas and loveseats that scatter the humbly rustic room as the man rubs the fatigue from his eyes and sits down by the candle-light. Markkason's cat meows and peaks from the bag next to me before hiding once more, almost as though he was trying to remind us of his presence. True, I had forgotten.
"Sorry for coming so late," I say, "We didn't have much choice."
"Aye, you've no need to apologize," he says, "So you're here to rid us of those foul creatures? My name's Jona Grunt, by the way."
"Foul creatures?" asks Elanya, confused, "And...Elanya."
Markkason's eyes have gone out of focus and his head's beginning to fall forward.
"You don't know?" Jona asks in surprise, "Well then why the hell are you here?"
"A man from Amber Inn said he'd give us rooms if we gave him information on why his church was shut down a year back..." mumbles Markkason as he begins to slide down his seat beside me.
"Well, we don't know what's causing it, but anyone who goes into that damn fog, sure you've seen or heard about it by now, never comes back. The next day, we find their remains, picked clean. We try our best to cover it up, but I'm sure there are rumors."
"Any ideas or theories?" I ask as I pull the half-elf's shirt collar to keep him from falling onto the floor.
"No, never seen anything like it. Our town's protected by an ancient circle of toadstools made nearly a century back. Monsters can't get in so we've no need to educate ourselves."
"Everyone should," I say, "No camp, village or city is safe. Only safer."
"I'd guess a zombie or a ghoul," says Elanya, crossing her legs and leaning forward, "Some kind of necrophage."
"If it were a ghoul, they'd have no reason to attack something that's not already dead. And that doesn't explain the fog," I reply.
"Whatever it is, it's taken twenty-four good men and women as well as one child in the past year. The fog keeps getting bigger every day. If you can get rid of it, I'll pay you a handsome sum," Jona says, "But be warned...I've sent men there before. No one even found their bodies."
I look to Elanya, who nods, then to Markkason who has fallen asleep. I sigh, and nudge him awake.
"Ugh, what's happening? Sorry..." he slurs.
"We're going on a suicide mission, friend," I say with a smirk before turning to Jona once more, "How much gold are we talking about?"
"Two hundred each," he says, "Sound alright?"
I nod.
"Just bring me evidence that whatever is in the fog is dead and I'll reward you. Day or night. Now, I'm sorry but I must ask that you leave. I'm an old man and I've no reason to be awake any longer... I know I haven't given you much to work with but I've told you what I know. Return in a week's time or I'll assume you've perished."
"Understood," I say as we exit the home.
Jona closes the door behind us and Kasai sits up, attentive. I scratch some of the looser, ruffled scales on his neck and a few come off. I slip them into my pouch as Elanya opens the gate and begins walking down the street toward the church, barely visible among the mist and the trees. Looking down, I see that the young woman's footprints have been covered by the giant pawprint of my dragon. I sigh and smile a bit.
"Looks like we'll have to save the day again, buddy," I say in draconic.
"From what?" responds Kasai in the same guttural language.
"Murderous mist...apparently."
"Interesting."
Elanya's pace quickens and she begins to run, raising her staff to her side defensively as she moves. She's running with urgency...She's noticed something. I quickly pick up Markkason to his surprise and drop him on the back of Kasai before I run to catch up with her. She looks afraid.
"What did you notice?" I yell to her.
"I heard a call for help! It came from the church!" she yells, "We have to hurry!"
"Lead the way."