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Brewer King 2 - 01
🕑 Added 2022-04-12 15:52:38 +0000 UTCThe snow crunched under Sanjay “San” King’s boots; the thin crust of ice snapping and his boots plunging into the undisturbed snow. The wind was still, but he could smell smoke in the air. San glanced to Pavano and the old man had a worried look on his bearded face. Their eyes met and the old man checked the crossbow that sat beside him on the wagon seat.
The lead wooly let out a low groan that was echoed by the thirty-odd other woolies pulling the five wagons that made up the small convoy of heavy wagons. Pavano pulled the reins and the team staggered to a stop. Cries and shouts echoed down the line as the other drovers pulled their wagons to a stop behind Pavano.
San climbed on board Pavano’s wagon and used his binoculars to scan the area before them. He could smell the smoke in the air, a smell he had gotten very familiar with. It wasn’t the cozy smoke of a warm hearth, it was the smell of something old and charred. The stink of the fires in White Tower and the remnants they left behind. It was the smell of devastation.
“See anything, lad?” Pavano asked.
“No.” San hopped off the wagon. He reached back into the wagon, then picked up a bundle and unwrapped a pair of pistols from their leather case. He took his lighter and lit the length of match cord and doubled checked the weapons before attaching them to his harness. Pavano handed him a crossbow, which he slung over his shoulder. The bolts went into a small quiver at his hip.
Seeing him arming up, Elgava did the same. The thin woman didn’t say anything, only double checking her sword and crossbow before joining him in the snow.
“We’ll scout ahead,” San said. He turned to the drovers who were looking on with fear in their faces. They hadn’t come for a fight and after the horrors they had seen in White Tower, they didn’t want any of it. “Steady, fellows. We’re going to check and return promptly.”
“We ain’t got no guards,” one of the drovers said. He was a thin and skeletal man. His skin was a dark walnut and leathery as the reins he held in his hands.
“We’ll be back promptly,” San reassured. He headed toward a copse of skeletal trees. Elgava didn’t say anything as she followed him.
“They’re damned scared,” she said after they were out of earshot.
“They’re right to be,” San said.
The woman only nodded as she joined San among the trees. They stalked forward, their breath billowing before them and their feet sinking into the snow. San eased his way pass a skeletal thicket and saw the view down into the shallow valley.
Snow had fallen recently, enough to turn what were once houses into lopsided mounds. The snow hadn’t been heavy enough to fully hide the destruction that had been wrought to the komai. Twisted charred beams stood out among the white snow, depressions formed where buildings had collapsed onto themselves, and the rank stink of old smoke hung in the air.
“Shit,” Elgava whispered.
San nodded. The destruction was not recent, but not that long ago either. San panned his binoculars across the komai, spotting rising smoke in the distance. This was no burning building, but chimney smoke.
“There are survivors, it seems,” San said.
Elgava took the binoculars and nodded. “I see about seven plumes. Could be clustered homes weren’t attacked, only those on the outskirts?”
San nodded in agreement. The snow was untrodden and there were no signs that anyone had been moving about the komai recently. That disturbed San more, as even in the winter months, there was always a lot of work to be done. For there to be no signs of felling of trees, moving of materials, or even tracks in the semi-road that led into the komai; it could only mean that no one was able or willing to go out.
They turned to head back to the wagons. A cackle suddenly filled the air and the two went still. San raised his crossbow and scanned the woods. The laughter echoed throughout the trees, coming from multiple directions.
The sound was ridiculous, a stereotypical witch’s laugh that belonged in a child’s haunted house. Yet even as San thought it was foolish, a part of him tensed up and he felt the crawling sensation of fear. There was a difference between a recording and reality. There wa something out there making that noise. That meant only one thing.
The laughter faded. San and Elgava glanced at one another and stayed still. They scanned the trees and waited, but after several minutes there are no other noises. The two began moving again. They didn’t speak about the noise, keeping their eyes on the trees and ears perked for any other sounds.
The strange laughter was clear enough evidence as to what was happening in the komai. San felt a heavy weight of guilt settle on his shoulders as the pair reached the wagon teams.
“You laughing?” Pavano asked as they returned. “I thought I heard laughter.”
Elgava gave a look to Pavano and the old man nodded. “Ah,” he said. He unconsciously patted his own crossbow as his eyes began to scan the tree line.
“There’s been fighting,” San said. “Some houses have been destroyed, but it looks like there are still people alive.”
Pavano twisted the reins in his hands, a pinched look on his face.
“I’m sure they’re okay,” San said.
“Aye,” Pavano said, “Ob’s a tough shitheel.”
The convoy moved forward, the woolies moaning their deep bellows and their cloven hooves plodding along the snow. Elgava grabbed hold of the side of Pavano’s wagon and pulled herself into the bed, her keen eyes staring at the distant trees.
San walked beside the lead wagon with his crossbow in his hands. The heavy animal smell of the woolies overwhelmed his senses, a combination of wet dog and cattle. The llama looking animals peered around on their long necks and blinked large eyes at him. One leaned over and San obliged by scratching its head. It gave a low murmur.
They crested a hill and San looked down into the Alkavarea Komai. He spotted the obelisk that had caught his interest when Pavano and he had first come through months before. The obelisk stood in the center of a great field, its sides free of snow.
The sight of the strange markings upon the obelisk brought back memories of the battle beneath a similar on in White Tower. A product of the ancient Hanged King’s Kingdom, it was a concentrator of magical power. One that the Kingdom had used to make themselves powerful.
Had the obelisk condemned the people of the komai to Void Horror attacks? The question sat heavily in San’s gut as they plodded along.
They were spotted as they neared the distant houses. A smattering of men, old and young, staggered forward, weapons in hands and fear in their faces. San saw the pitiful weapons they carried; months before Pavano and he had been met with a well organized group defending their komai.
What had happened.
“Pavano the Traveller seeks Orbaris Alkava!” Pavano shouted as they neared the group.
“Halt!” a wiry old man screamed back. He marched forward with a spear and then paused as he spotted the weapons San and Elgava carried. “Stay back!”
“We mean you no harm,” Pavano shouted in return. “We only seek to know if Orbaris Alkava and his kin are still among the living. Does his reek still cause women to faint and men to retch?”
“Fucking Pavano,” a gruff voice cried out.
San had to smile as he saw the tall gaunt man make his way forward. His smile faltered when he saw one arm heavily bandaged and more upon his abdomen.
The man limped his way in front of the group of scared militia. He glanced to Pavano and then to San, his eyes narrowing.
“How do?” Orbaris said. “Foreigner.” He nodded his head to San.
“How do, Alkava,” San said in return.
“The fuck happen here, Ob?” Pavano said as he eased himself off the wagon He gave the tall man a bear hug. “Where’s Magano?”
The farmer’s face twisted and San watched as he burst into tears.
***
“You ain’t here from White Tower?” a woman asked, as she offered up a thin gruel and watered down wine.
“No, mistress,” Pavano said, accepting the bowl. The woman only grunted and continued serving.
Hospitality, even when starving, was still something the Alkavarea komai stuck to. They had suffered, but to show inhospitality before guests was a sin against Senta’s blessing. The gathered men in the kitchen made a show of thanking and smacking lips as they consumed the thin gruel of off meat and dried grains.
“Void Horrors,” Orbaris said. He clenched his fist and stared at the scarred table they occupied.
“A quarter of the families have been hit,” another man spoke. Dikonis Alkava. He had a wispy beard and green eyes that were lost in creases on his nut brown skin. “Came during the storm three weeks back. Was chaos and death, even those that survived the attack, many died from exposure. Fucking way to go, like some tree fucker criminal.”
“They went for the grains and the sovassa we had stored.”
San recalled that sovassa was the Baronies version of kimchi. A spicy long lasting pickled food that was consumed mostly during the long winter months. It was the main source of calories and nutrition for the people of the komai and farmers throughout the Barony.
“Void Horrors don’t act like this,” Orbaris said. “We’ve seen our share, the shit that comes from the North, but not like this.” The farmer shook and gripped his hands tightly before him. His eyes were hard pinpricks of hate. “They killed Magano and two of my sons. We barely got out, me and the little ones, but they followed us.” Orbaris shuddered. “What has become of the world, Pavano?”
“White Tower has been gutted,” Pavano stated bluntly. There was a shock silence, the women working the stoves and fire stopped and stared at them. “On Midwinter, the Hesna cults tried bringing forth their goddess. They did this by turning good citizens into monsters, which managed to escape the city.”
“Hetvana’s bloody cunt,” Dikonis cursed. “What foul tales you speak.”
“On my honor as a Godseeker,” Pavano said. “I tell you only the truth. Many have died in White Tower, the Baron and his eldest son are dead, the Head Healer is dead, many cults are shattered, and a great depression has settled upon those that remain alive. The Hesna cults have devastated the Barony and who knows what will happen next.”
The men chewed on the information, casting fearful glances at one another. There were frantic whispered prayer to Senta in the silence.
“Who shall help us then?” Orbaris asked. “Word is that much of the Levy has not returned.”
“That is true,” Pavano said. “We have returned to the Exonaris komai where we have been for the last months.”
“Exonaris?” Orbaris asked. “Good people, but they’re nothing now that the boy Kovass has gone to war. He return?”
“Kovass Exonaris is still in Sel Sentari,” Pavano stated. “With many of the Barony’s soldiers. To keep the peace and protect the Sentari gold from Suvanna.”
“While our people fucking die,” Orbaris muttered.
“The lad, Azios Exonaris, now leads the komai. Until Kovass returns,” Pavano added.
“Who leads in White Tower?” Dikonis asked.
“Havatair, the Guard Commander. He is regent for the Young Baron.”
“Bastard son protecting a useless son,” Orbaris said. “The Baron’s eldest was the best, a solid commander and skilled in war and diplomacy.”
“He supported the Hesna cults,” San said. “He’s the cause of all this devastation.”
The men glared at San, but did not rebuke him. Their eyes cast away as San stared them down. The desperate fighting and screams still filled his dreams at night. The blood still stained his hands.
“There is naught help from White Tower,” Pavano said. “They’re barely making it through winter as is.”
“Then why you here, Pavano?” Orbaris asked.
“Imbar,” Pavano replied. The gathered men grumbled.
“The fuck you want with imbar?” Dikonis demanded. “That shit ain’t useful for anything now. Most of our animals are dead and we ain’t dying of starvation enough to eat it yet.”
“Only fucking thing the Void Horrors didn’t touch,” Orbaris added. “Burned everything they could get their hands on, but not that fucking useless crop.”
“We have need of it,” San said.
“Do you, Foreigner?” Dikonis snapped. He glared at San, his face reddened by anger. “What is this need then? What do you seek to use it for. Some kind of foreign magic that will hurt this land even more?”
“You speak unkindly,” Pavano said. “San is an Adventurer, he fought against the horrors in White Tower, he helped to save the city.”
“Wooly shit,” another man spoke. “We die here and you come as a foreigner’s pet? Some rich foreigner with woolies and the fodder to feed them through this winter? Come to steal from us in our time of need? I lost my youngest to these fucking monsters.”
“A mad foreigner,” Orbaris said, staring at San. “Near killed my daughter. Mad as Pavano, Mad enough to come to this dying komai.” He laughed bitterly.
“Life is hard,” San said. He stared down all the men and women who had gathered now. They watched him as he placed his hands on the table. They were calloused and hard, and stained with blood. “You know this. What has life given you that you had not first struggled to obtain? How much blood, tears, and sweat was poured in each timber to make these walls, each stone to make your hearth, and each child brought into this world.
“Senta may love you and weep for you, but the world is falling into twilight. The Hesna cults have opened Breaches into the Void. They have brought forth horrors across this land and beyond. This moment, with your empty bellies and fear in your hearts, this is a lull in what is to come. It will take more blood, tears, sweat, steel, and death to see it through.”
Silence fell over the table as the people stared at San. A child began sobbing and a woman hushed them. A few tried staring San down, but they too looked away, unwilling to see the truth blazing in his eyes.
“What madness are you speaking,” Orbaris said softly His voice barely a whisper.
“’Tis no madness,” Pavano said sadly. “The Hesna cults tried bringing their god to this land, they failed and we all paid a great price for it. The land is wounded and bleeding, void horrors have been let loose, and there looks to be no peace in our future.”
“You can tell the future now, road walker?” another man spat.
“Shut up, Kedtrass,” Orbaris snapped.
“I have seen war, boy,” Pavano said. “The Rebellion against the Empire, the war with the Tribes, wars against the Sicklelands. What is to come will dwarf all of that. The Twilight is coming and we must prepare.”
“How can we prepare?” Dikonis asked. “Old men and boys, not trained at all. That’s what we have. Too many have died and we cannot even bury them like true Imperials. Most have been left to the elements, like some Tribal sacrifice.”
“Damn near all of our animals are dead too. We’ll barely have enough seed to plant come spring,” another stated.
“What the fuck does this have to do with imbar?” Orbaris said.
“This lad can make a magic drink,” Pavano said, gesturing to San. “He’s an adventurer, but the gods blessed him with more power than he knows what to do with. So now he makes a drink from imbar and it works. Makes you stronger, cleans your wounds, makes you brave, and casts out the demons inflicting you.”
“Wooly shit.”
“The Regent Havatair has given us the task to make Moonshine for the Barony. There will be need of drinks like Courage and Purification,” San said. “This drink requires imbar as a base.”
“You ain’t fucking with us?” Orbaris asked.
“No.”
“Moonshine,” Dikonis said. “You’re an Adventurer, eh? Have you pledged to Corvanus?”
“No,” San replied. “I am pledged to no god.”
A murmur filled the room.
“We are all good Imperials here,” a man stated. “Senta blesses us and Corvanus watches over us. Kazo forges the souls of our children and Hetvana takes them when their time is done. What foreign gods do you worship to make this… drink?”
“I worship no gods,” San said, his voice hard. “No god has sway over me. No god commands me. I do what I do by my own free will.”
“He was mad when you first brought him to my home,” Orbaris said, “now he rages with barely contained anger. Nice companion, old man.”
“Aye,” Pavano said softly.
San could feel Pavano’s eyes on him, but he refused to acknowledge them. They would be pitying, the eyes holding no blame and no condemnation.
“We would like to purchase your imbar,” San continued. “We will pay fair price.”
“Sars?” Orbaris and the other men scoffed. “What need we of sars when our bellies are empty and our children are dying, when void horrors haunt the edges of our komai. When we cannot even gather wood in fear of that cackling madness that lives in the woods.”
“Then we will kill it,” San stated.
That brought silence to the room. All eyes locked upon him.
“We have no levels,” Dikonis said. “We are not as you are, Adventurer. Death only waits it we try to fight that creature.”
“Death awaits if you do nothing,” San said. “Death awaits us all if all we do is huddle in our homes fearing the dark.”
“We are no cowards,” Orbaris snapped. “We carved our life out of this forsaken land. We drenched our blood in kicking out the Tribals and fighting off the horrors that come from the North. We are not fucking cowards.”
“Then show me,” San snarled, rising to his feet. “Show me the courage of the Alakavarea Komai!”
***
“Good show,” Elgava said as she packed a pipe with tobacco. San paced before the wagon, packing the snow down with every step. “Though to call your host a coward in their own home is seen as being rude.”
“There is a Void Horror out there,” San said, glancing at the distant trees. “They know it and all they do is hide in their homes.”
“They are not us,” Elgava said softly. “They have not been through what we have.”
“That does not matter,” San said.
Elgava puffed a cloud of smoke into the air and sighed. “Sovassa holds back the Spring Sickness,” she said. “They have lost most of their food and sovassa. They are starving, they are weak, they will die before the snows fully melt.”
San continued pacing. “Malnutrition,” he said. “The sovassa provides much needed vitamin and minerals, especially in the long winters. Cold, dampness, little sunlight, all of those lead to weakening the body.”
Elgava continued puffing on her pipe, ignoring the odd words he was spouting. “Do not judge them harshly,” she said. “There was a time when you would have been healing them, caring for them, and doing what you could to help them.”
San stopped in his pacing, looking at Elgava. “I-I’ve…” he stuttered, unable to form a sentence. He stared down at his hands, slowly clenching them.
“The focus here is the Void Horror,” Elgava said. “The people will recover once it is gone. Bandaging and helping those who will only die later will help no one, it will only drain your mana and break your heart. We kill the Void Horror, then you can help the people.”
“What would have Densa done?” San asked.
“Dwell not on that, friend,” Elgava said. “Think of other things.”
“No.” San climbed aboard the wagon and began digging through the supplies they had brought. He pulled out several small amphoras. “Come, we’ll do what we can for those we can.”
“Aye,” Elgava said, rising to her feet.
***
“We can take back your sickest and weakest,” San said. “The Exonaris komai is guarded by some Levy soldiers and has the Regent’s protection. They will not deny us food or material, if we need it.”
“That moonshine that needed?” Orbaris asked. The man sat on a stump, a small guttering fire before him. San had cleaned his wounds and redressed the bandages that covered him. The wounds were old and healing, but San did what he could for the man and many others beside.
A bit of Courage, a bit of Purification, and a Cleansing Flame had a remarkable effect upon the people. Before, fear had weighted down their movements and sorrow had chained them to their homes. San had sen it before, the heavy fog of despair that settled onto places, that seeped into every pore and cranny, suffocating hope and action.
The fog had been lifted and San watched as men and women marched about, grim determination on their faces and hands steady as they worked to secure their homes. San wondered if it was the moonshine he had offered up or was it simply they now had help they desperately needed.
Evening approached and fires burned, turning the once snow covered exterior of the surviving cluster of houses muddy and cracking with freezing mud. The woolies were pulled into the surviving barns, the empty wagons ringed around the outside of the homes, providing a barricade against attack.
The sound of sharpening metal vied against whistling of wind. San shivered in his coat and blinked his eyes against the billowing smoke. There wasn’t much wood and there hadn’t been much time to obtain more. What had been recovered was wet and frozen, but it still burned.
“It will help in the fight,” San said. “Void Horrors can mess with your mind, make your feel odd emotions, make you lose track of yourself, and lead your astray.”
“Aye, so can a lot of wine,” Orbaris said. He grunted as he hefted his crossbow to his lap. “I will not deny the power of your drink, lad. I have felt the courage of many cups of wine, but this is not the same.” Orbaris tapped his chest. “Wine courage is a false courage, it does not stand against the real fear. But your drink, it has cleared much for me. Like my head was buried in sorrow and terror.”
Orbaris rapidly blinked his eyes. “I am a ship without rudder, lad. Magano was my guiding star, the firm hand leading my wooly ass.” He laughed. “But I still have my children and my grand children. We took this land in the wars, we fought for it against the Empire, and I will damn well die here.”
His eyes were hard and clear as the sun began to descend behind the winter stripped trees. The clatter of tools and men filled the air, but a moment later a long cackling laughter echoed through the valley. The maniacal laughter put silent to all things, not even the woolies brayed.
“Sweet Senta, bless your children. Corvanus, give us your strength,” Orbaris said. His voice wavered for a moment, but grew stronger as he rose to his feet. “We shall see the end of this creature tonight.”
A/N: Finally done! I've been whinging on how to write this first chapter for weeks now. Its finally good to put something down, it might not be great, but its something. better a thing that can be improved than a thing that doesn't exist. :D
I'm aiming for two updates a week for Brewer King, 3 for IDGM, and hopefully I can continue on with Fractured Worlds. I still want to add to that story. perhaps an update a week for FW.
