Green leaves were left speckled with blood as the silhouette of a brutish man trudged through the roots and foliage along an abandoned path.

The Outskirts

On the other side of the woodlands, lay the nearby town of Elowyn Glade. This route appeared to have been unused for quite some time. The Elowyn Shire Assembly had likely steered away from funding Eastling Grove’s upkeep and resultantly, it had barely been tended for months. The Grove had been surpassed by other more useful trade routes linking amicable communities in the region. As Baeryian heaved his plate-armoured body through the woody barricade, his breathing became more laboured and wheezing commenced. Scratches and deep gashes marred his limbs like fresh tattoos. Without warning, his huge form collapsed sending the sound of snapping seasoned timber throughout the vicinity. Birds scattered like splashed blue ink against the green of the underbrush.

Under Hoods

Crackling firelight dimly lit the interior of the ale house near the centre of Elowyn. A solitary body was slumped over a table next to a half-emptied stein and remnants of food were scattered about the floor. Wood smoke filled the room creating a veil of anonymity. It was apparent that the two people in conversation in the corner meant not to draw attention, their hoods draped purposefully over their heads. Occasionally their conference halted, as they surveyed the tavern for listeners.

“That’s not enough gold. They should be paying more for this kind of service.”

“We can’t argue. We have not the ability to bargain, Vinaris. Sword-wielders service every street corner in Elowyn village and we need this job.”

“What provisions have you acquired? What’s left of our last excursion?” Sarya questioned Vinaris, despite his persistence on demanding more coin.

“We have ropes, our food bags are barely half full and our weapons need tending. My blades are in need of smithing and I’m sure your quiver requires replenishing. We also have that hammer.”

“You find the armourer. I’ll find a shrine. If the gods believe in our cause, they’ll reward us with someone with the ability to identify whether or not that hammer is more than it appears”.

Satisfied that nobody cared for their conversation or their identities, Sarya lifted her viridian hood to reveal her tightly curled, blonde coiffure. Her delicate features we dulled by the insufficient light the hearth was producing. A source of light twinkled in her eyes as she lifted herself from her position. Vinaris lifted his mug, tilted his head back and swilled the remainder of his beverage. Both left the tavern; Vinaris to find a smith and Sarya for a shrine.

“I’m sure I’ll be done with the armourer before you. I’ll find you. Stay at the shrine.”
Sarya nodded and her light step led her away.

The Watcher

Eyes peered down from a perch within the tangled mess of the canopy. While the watcher stayed mindful and in the shadows, the lumbering stranger grew near. Although high and obscured, his breathing remained silent. His form a statue, as he listened in the distance. Indistinct clanking and hooves thumped the ground. It must have been at least five miles off, but aural amplification made his perceptions heightened to serve as an advantage. While the noise was distant, squandering the time he had wouldn’t be wise. As the watcher silently dropped from the tree into fallen leaves below, the bloodied brute collapsed as his last breath escaped his lungs.

In the next instalment..

What's chasing this brutish barbarian and who has come to his aid? Will the secretive pair of adventurers' mysterious hammer be anything other than a brute-force beater?

Nick

All content is original.