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HTN 5-37 A little village
🕑 Added 2021-12-14 20:16:14 +0000 UTCThey stood in the darkened street staring up at the castle that loomed over the town like a gargoyle ready to pounce. The mist that permeated the graveyard seemed to follow them and now curled about the dark corners of the town. A distant howl alerted them to the presence of a wolf as dark clouds began to drift the night sky.
“Somebody spent a lot of points on ambiance,” Breanne said as they looked around. “This whole town reeks of a monster story.
“Hurry, we need to be getting inside,” their bald companion urged and motioned to a large building just down the street. “There be food and rooms for visitors such as yourselves.”
“I doubt they have anything large enough for me,” Frank said before looking at Legeis in his massive suit of armor. “Or Legeis.”
The bald man looked at the towering shapes of Frank and Legeis and assured them there was plenty of room. He then hurried down the street as a second howl, this one much closer, split the air.
“We may as well go see this place,” Heather said and, with Webster slung over an arm, followed the frightened man.
She wasn't sure what to expect, but the building they arrived at captivated her imagination. It looked like a fantasy movie would depict an ancient Austrian farmhouse converted to an inn and then expanded on several times. There were great yellowed windows on the ground floor, but up above, few of the windows had glass. Most were narrow slits easily concealed behind stout wooden shudders. The main building was a rectangular affair several stories tall and capped by a slate roof. A round tower had been added to one side that rose well above the rest of the building. To one side jutted out a newer construction whose walls were plastered white. A second story had been added to the back of this new construction and overhung one side so significantly it had to be supported by thick oak pillars. There was more of the building in the back, but they couldn't see it clearly from the street. The man led them to a double door and quickly threw it open, waiving for them to get inside before the wolves got them.
Heather accepted the invitation and calmly strolled into the building. She was greeted by a warm environment that glowed with candlelight and the orange hue of fires roaring up a great hearth to the right. There were tables scattered about the room, no two of which were alike. The chairs were similarly of various shapes and sizes, with some being little more than benches, while others seemed fit for a nobles dining room. The floors were wooden slats, worn down from the tramp of years of feet. The walls were white plaster split by thick oaken beams oiled and polished to enhance their dark color.
A dozen people who looked like actors from an old movie set looked up and glared with suspicious eyes. Then, all of them went silent as the others filed in until the bald man finally slammed the door and slid a crossbeam into place.
“It’s not safe to be out with the moon,” he said and squeezed by the others.
Heather shrugged and went to a large table by the sidewall where they would be relatively isolated. She set Webster down on the table and took a seat on one of the tall backed chairs.
“Well, this is nice,” she said with a smile as Frank dragged a heavy bench over to sit across from her. She realized he must weigh a ton in that armor, and the bench was his best bet to avoid crashing to the floor. Legeis stood his armor at the end of the table and made it squat down, so he was almost level with the surface. Blackbast sat beside Frank, her ears twitching as vigorously as her tail.
“You seem nervous,” Heather remarked as Webster began to scurry about.
Blackbast pinned her ears back as she glared with narrow eyes at Heather. She explained that this was foolish, and if they died here, her quest would be set back.
Heather argued that Umtha and the egg were safely inside the magic room. If her friends died, they would simply use the magic doors to get back to the palanquin. Of course, she and Blackbast were hero players and could use the local graveyard. She then considered Legeis and wondered if he would respawn locally or back in his lair. He never mentioned having something similar to a dungeon heart to protect him from a reset.
“Well, we're here,” Quinny said as she sat next to Heather. “What are we going to do?”
“Leave as soon as possible,” Blackbast urged.
“I kinda agree,” Frank said. “Something about this town seems off.”
Heather knew better than to take her friend's suspicions for granted, especially Franks. If he felt uncomfortable about something, the odds were it warranted being concerned. Breanne seemed far more relaxed as she sat beside Quinny and looked about the room.
“I kinda wanted to look around the town,” Heather admitted as she considered what they were going to do. “But this town shuts down at night, and everybody seems to hide indoors.”
“From the wolves,” Quinny reminded.
“It must be more than that,” Breanne suggested as she drummed her fingers on the table. “Assuming all these people are NPCs, then the player in control is trying to create an air of danger at night.”
“From wolves?” Heather asked as she tried to make sense of it. “I get it that there are more dangerous varieties of wolves, but it seems silly that the whole town would hide from them.”
“They are doing what they are meant to do,” Breanne reasoned. “To them, the wolves are a terror.” She rose from her chair and excused herself to go and look for a barmaid or anyone who could sell them a drink. Heather turned back to Blackbast and Frank, where she relented and offered to leave.
“We may as well have a drink,” Quinny said and dared to lift her mask. “Even if we hadn't stopped, we would still be in this player's territory dealing with the wolves.”
Blackbast turned to Frank, who scratched at the top of his helm and said he would prefer to be away from here, but Heather did need to experience more of the world. Whoever this region belonged to, they had a flair for the gothic and maybe wouldn't mind undead players. Heather added that the lady of this land had even recently killed a paladin. Whoever she was, she didn’t like the paladins any more than they did.
Breanne returned a moment later with a tall woman dressed in an apron and sporting dark curly hair that fell about her shoulders. She placed a bottle of wine on the table and followed it with four glasses. She hurried off as Breanne took up the bottle and poured four wines, handing one to Heather, Blackbast, and Quinny.
“Umm, what about the boys?” Heather asked as Breanne took a sip of her wine.
“I ordered ale's for them,” Breanne said with a pleased smile. Just as she set her glass down, the dark-haired woman returned and set a mug down before Frank and handed one to Legeis. She was about to walk away when she looked down and spotted Webster. With a shriek, she jumped away from the table, pointing and cursing as the other patrons turned to see the cause.
“Oh, he’s with me,” Heather said and scooped him up. “He’s my familiar.”
“What kind of wizard keeps a spider for a pet?” the woman barked as she wiped her brow with her apron. Heather explained that he was exactly what she wanted and didn’t care if people didn’t like it.
“This is why strangers aren’t welcome here,” the woman growled. “Strange people with strange ways,” she grumbled and marched away. Heather heard her complaining to a group at another table that there was a spider as big as a dog in the inn. This caused a round of glances and second looks as Heather scowled in return.
“I'm sorry, Webster,” she said and put him on the table before her. “Some people are afraid of spiders.”
“Like me,” Breanne said before taking another sip of her wine. “But I am getting used to him.”
“I should summon a cloud of bats just to annoy that woman,” Heather said as she pet the spider before her.
“I would advise against it,” Blackbast encouraged and took up her wine. She took a slow sip then looked about the room to see some people still watching them. “Well, we have stopped in your town. What do you wish to accomplish?”
“I dunno,” Heather admitted. “I was hoping they had a book store, or a bakery, or a magic potions shop. I am not even sure what kind of stores I might find in a village. That's part of why I want to visit some.”
“Maybe we should have a drink and get going then,” Frank said as he leaned over his mug. “Nothing will be open until morning, and we can't stay here all night.”
“Fine,” she relented and took up her drink. She took a gentle sip and looked across the table to see Frank struggling to lift his helm just high enough to drink his ale. He looked silly with the helm teetering on his head, and she felt terrible that he had to keep what he was so secret. Blackbast looked around and whispered to him that his back was to the room, and nobody could see his face. She suggested he take the helm off, and she would let him know if anybody was approaching.
With a sigh, Frank set his helm on the table and finally managed to take a proper drink. Heather smiled to see him enjoying the moment and took another sip of her wine as she pet Webster with her other hand.
“So this is fun,” Quinny offered as she too set her mask aside so she could drink. “Now we can say we went out for drinks.”
“We should be able to do this without being paranoid of the villagers taking up torches and pitchforks,” Heather grumbled as she kept a wary eye on the people sitting across the room.
Blackbast, who was still twitching with irritation, cast a glance her way. She explained that this was the role of hero and monster players, the two sides designed to battle each other.
“Compliment each other,” Heather corrected. “If they worked together, the monster players would build enormous lairs for the hero’s to adventure in and earn experience and treasures.”
“Yeah, but people see the monster player as the ultimate boss mob,” Quinny argued. “They don't feel like the dungeon is done until they killed the final boss.”
Frank set his mug down with a thunk causing the group to look his way as he took a deep breath.
“I agree with you, Quinny,” he said but looked directly at Heather. “But the problem isn't that the players want to kill the final boss. The problem is they don't consider it a victory unless they reset the boss. If they killed us and let us respawn, it would be fun, but players go out of their way to reset us every chance they get.”
“I have seen them go to cruel lengths to reset a monster player,” Breanne agreed. “And what's worse is that in many places, this behavior is encouraged, and dissenters are ostracized.”
Quinny swirled her wine about as the mood around the table soured. It was an unfortunate truth that players could be cruel, but not all of them. She pointed out that Heather and Blackbast were proof that not all players felt that way.
“I have the luxury of living in an isolated location,” Blackbast replied. “There are no players to harass and hinder me for my views.” She looked across the table before glancing over her shoulder to make sure nobody else could hear. “And you,” she began while pointing to Heather. “Because of your complications, you are safer in the company of monster players. Yes, many hero players would love to cooperate with monster players, but the server culture almost forbids it.” She glanced over her shoulder again and then leaned over the table to whisper. “And I suggest we use the name Princess Hannah while in our present company.”
“Oh, I hadn’t thought of that,” Heather replied as she looked across the room. The villagers were huddled at three tables, talking among themselves and throwing glances her way. She wasn't threatened by their stares, but more and more, something felt off. It also felt strange that there were no other players at the inn, and the streets outside had been deserted. Blackbast said this was a heavily populated region, so where were all the players?
“I can see a calculating look in your eyes,” Blackbast said as Heather considered a plan.
“Oh, that usually means she is about to do something reckless,” Breanne added with a nod Heather’s way.
Heather stood up and shook out her long red hair. She announced that she was going to talk to the villagers and made her way around the table as Blackbast encouraged her to sit down. Heather ignored the pleas and made her way across the room as the villagers turned to see her approach.
“Hello, I am princess Hannah,” she said with a slight smile. “I was wondering if you could tell me something about this town.”
“We don't hold to strangers here,” one of the villagers said. “Strangers bring trouble. Especially those whats got horns growing out of their heads.”
She tried not to react as she considered that they still didn’t know if the lilithu devil was a hero or monster race. It was logical to assume it was a monster race and the look on their faces only reinforced the idea. Still, she pressed on and explained that they were leaving when their drinks were done, but she wanted to know more about the castle on the hill. This prompted glances as the villagers huddled and began to whisper things. She couldn't make out what they were saying, but her question obviously struck a nerve.
“The castle belongs to the lady,” an old man in a dirty vest finally replied. “She owns the town and the surrounding countryside and doesn’t take kindly to strangers poking about her business.”
“I get it. You don't like strangers,” Heather sighed and put her hands on her hips. “Then maybe you could tell me what happened to the paladin who was here?”
The villagers went silent and exchanged glances again before a woman among them spoke up.
“Are you really a princess?” she asked.
Heather nodded and explained that she was indeed a princess on a long journey to help a friend. That seemed to relax the woman who looked around at the others before explaining.
“He came here just two days ago. Said he was a royal paladin of some king.” She paused and leaned over the table to whisper as the others stood motionless as if afraid of what would come next. “He takes one look at the town and starts asking all these questions. He wants to know why it looks the way it does and who protects it. When we tell him it has always looked this way, he gets all arrogant. Says he’s gonna rid the land of darkness or whatnot. He then goes to the castle and demands the lady explain herself. She doesn't answer, never even opens her door, but the sun was still up, you see.”
“What does the sun have to do with anything?” Heather asked.
The woman licked her lips and lowered her voice even more before replying.
“The lady doesn't like to come out while the sun is up. She rarely visits the town during the day and then only on the dark ones. She is a rare beauty, but there is a darkness about her.”
“Beautiful like a midnight rose,” another man said as heads nodded in agreement.
“So she’s pretty?” Heather asked.
“Oh, she can turn heads,” the woman replied. “And she carries herself with such grace. That night she came looking for that paladin and found him out in the streets. We didn't see what happened, but we heard a terrible noise, didn't we?” Heads around the table nodded in agreement, and some took swigs of their ales to calm rattled nerves. She went on to explain that they found the body in the morning, Strung upside down and hanging from a tree with a sign from the lady that he was to hang until the third move.
“Third move?” Heather asked and was delighted to learn it was a reference to the odd movements of the sun. It was fascinating to think the NPCs had adapted to the sun's breaking, showing the world was magnificently flexible.
“Bad manners is what the lady can't stand,” the woman went on. “And that paladin, he had some terrible manners.”
“Most strangers do,” a man added and turned one glaring eye on Heather. “And they always bring the wrath of the lady down on us.”
Heather took the hint and returned to her table, dropping into her chair with a thump.
“Well, what did they say?” Quinny asked.
Heather explained the story and the strange way the woman spoke about the lady. It raised some debate as to why this lady only came out at night or on very dark days. Quinny pointed out that a lot of undead were affected by bright sunlight. Heather nodded but reminded that the lady was supposed to be a rare beauty, and undead were usually not described as such.
Quinny laughed and blew her a kiss before pointing out that she was undead and beautiful.
“Yeah, but you can still tell you're a zombie,” Heather replied. “They make it sound like this lady is more like Gwen, all regal and glowing.”
“Did you ask about the wolves?” Frank pressed, and Heather shook her head.
“Sorry they kept hinting that strangers were trouble, so I cut my conversation short,” she admitted.
“That must be why there are no other players here,” Frank surmised. “The player who made this doesn’t like visitors and drives them off.”
“And we should be off before she comes to drive us away,” Blackbast encouraged.
“I guess so,” Heather said and then downed the last of her wine. “I suppose there is no reason to stay.”
“I’ll go get the palanquin,” Legeis said and manipulated the levers of his armor. The suite stood up and turned for the door as a cry went up from the villagers.
“Here now. What do you think you're doing?” a man who looked like a farmer called.
“We’re leaving,” Legeis called back and lifted the wooden brace from the door.
“It ain't safe to go out in the night,” the man warned, but Legeis assured him they weren't afraid of the dark and went outside. Heather waited until Frank had his helm on, then they got up as a group and headed for the door. The villagers hurled warnings, but Heather politely addressed them and assured them that they were leaving town before any trouble occurred. As the door closed, the woman who sat at the table looked around at the stunned faces and muttered.
“It’s poor manners to ignore our warnings.”
Outside Heather waited with Webster at her feet. The street was dimly lit by the glow of windows and the moonlight that filtered down through thin clouds. The mists had grown and now blanketed the land in a rolling mass. None of it bothered the group that was used to grave mists and dark shadows, but Blackbast was obviously annoyed. Her ears were pinned back, and her tail twitched from side to side. She glared into the darkness around them, her green eyes glowing faintly in the dim light. In the distance, they could hear the thump of Legeis's armor as he fetched the palanquin.
“I kinda like it here,” Quinny said as she looked around the little village. “I want a place like this in my forest.”
“Can you build a village?” Heather asked.
“Nah, just single buildings or farms as points of interest. I would need a village player like Finneous to do it,” Quinny replied and then suggested that one day her forest would reach all the way to his town.
There was a hoot from a distant owl followed a moment later by a howl. They waited patiently in the street as the sound of Legeis's steps grew closer. There was something odd about his thumps; they seemed rapid as if he was running. He suddenly burst out of the darkness and stood in his armor to point.
“It’s gone!” he said in an alarmed voice. “Somebody took the palanquin!”
