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Saturday, 14 July 2012

3.08 - Savior of Gloamwood

Blood from the slit in the Barghest’s neck dripped onto Anneleigh’s shoulder and rolled down her arm as she carried the beast back to Gloamwood Pines.  As she walked Anneleigh worked through her story.  As a result, the return journey took longer, both because of the weight of the animal and the thoughts traveling through her mind. 



As she passed the guards on the path at the outskirts of town they gave her a smile that conveyed both admiration and fear.  It was not the reputation she wished to gain among these people but the dead was done and she did not regret her actions.   The residents of Gloamwood Pines seemed more receptive to her return, cheering, bowing and blowing kisses as she passed.  They no longer feared her – Anneleigh was sure of that; many of them joining her walk, chatting animatedly, and directing her Drusk Nightclaw.

“Hah!  I knew you’d come through!”  Nightclaw said with a barking laugh.  “With this threat ended, peace has returned to Gloamwood Pines.”

Anneleigh smiled.  She was relying on the fact that none of the original hunters had seen the beast clearly.  No one dared call her kill a bluff because none had seen it clear enough to make the judgement.  If anyone made claim that the animal was too small, too week, or too injured to be the beast, Anneleigh planned to use the exponential growth of the original facts to her advantage.   She knew, for Drusk had told her, that hunting stories grew with each retelling.  This was the fact that worked to her advantage and cemented her kill as acceptable.

“The townsfolk will be able to rest easy once again.  The burgher may have been reluctant to hire my help from the outside, but he can’t argue with results!”

Anneleigh wondered who or what a burgher was, but decided to let it pass.  She smiled again.

“So the dead is done.  There is no further need to send hunters into the Barghest den.  They are animals of the wild, animals of Tavril.  They only do what comes naturally to them.  Hunters who wander to close to the Barghest den will bring on in further attacks.”

Drusk Nightclaw let out another booming laugh.  “With this beast slain, there is no reason to enter the Greybrier Hollow.” 

He shuffled his feet and looked down for a moment to adjust his gun.  Anneleigh wondered if he was worried she thought the hunters too weak to make the kill.  She shrugged it off.  They had asked her to kill the horror, and thinking this ordinary beast was responsible, made her kill an innocent creature.  She did not owe them comfort or piece of mind.

In a few moments Nightclaw looked up.   “Word of your victory over the Hollow’s Beast will soon be all over town.  The villagers are planning an award ceremony in your honor at the Dusken Draft.”

It was not Anneleigh’s turn to feel embarrassed.   “I will... make an appearance.  First I must see the doctor.  I have the moon blossoms he requires for his remedy.”

Nightclaw nodded.  “Go to Furtho Dragomir as well.”  He suggested, “You know, the mayor.  He will want to congratulate you as well, but public parties are not his thing.”

Anneleigh nodded, accepted directions to the doctor’s lab and went on her way.  When she arrived at the doctor’s office she knocked and quickly entered.

“I understand you required this plant for your medicine.”  Anneleigh said as she handed over the bundle of Moon Blossoms.

“Yes, these will do very well.  The... injuries of the townsfolk have been difficult to deal with, but I’m confident with these we’ll be able to quickly concoct a cure for their infection.”

“Infection?” Anneleigh asked. 

“Yes.” The doctor confirmed.  “They were all bitten and the venom has caused infection.”

Anneleigh got the feeling he was hiding something from her, but without more information she could not question him further.

“Hopefully, with the death of the Beast of the Hollow, no further residents will be bitten.” Anneleigh said, playing along with the same version Nightclaw began.  “When you said bitten, my thought was immediately for this creature.   It is dead now.”

“It is?  That’s great.  Really, really great.  Good for Gloamwood Pines.  It’s a relief not to worry about more attacks.”  Doctor Oswell looked around quickly.  “I’ll get to work on a cure for the infection.  You’d better be on your way.”

Anneleigh got the overwhelming feeling of being dismissed and turned to leave without further discussion.  She climbed the winding ramp to Furtho Dragomir’s office and knocked quickly on the door.   This time, to her surprise, he allowed her to enter.  

The office was furnished with rich tapestries, plush armchairs, and a sparkling chandelier.  It looked very little like the office space she would expect from the mayor of Gloamwood Pines, a village under siege. 

“All praise Anneleigh!  Killer of the Beast! Savior of Gloamwood!”

Anneleigh smiled, but waved his complement away.

“As leader of Gloamwood Pines, you have my thanks.  We can rest easy now knowing the Beast is dead.  We can rebuild our town, bury our dead, and move forward.”

“I don’t believe...” Anneleigh began to say, but the mayor continued as if she had not spoken.

“You must have important business elsewhere.  Please don’t let us delay you further.  We can handle any further troubles from the wood.”

As he spoke he extended his arms and corralled her towards the door.  Their meeting was over as quickly as it had begun.

Anneleigh travelled quickly down the steep ramp and headed towards the apothecary.  If she was going to endure a celebration in her honor, she wanted at least one friendly face among the crowd.  As she rounded the first corner she spotted Gwyddon coming up the path.

“I heard you were a hero or something.” Gwyddon joked as he approached.

Anneleigh smiled. “Yeah, well, you know.  All in a days work for an Ascended.”

They entered the Dusken Draft together and as the villages spotted her, they began to cheer.   At the center of the pub, on a table at the center of attention, lay the poor creature Anneleigh had killed in place of the pack matriarch.   Thin and injured, it looked particularly unimpressive lying in the bright light of the bar, but none of the villagers seemed to notice.  They cheered and raised their classes to toast her victory and then mingled among themselves.

Anneleigh lead Gwyddon over to the beast.   She planned to tell him the true story after the celebration and felt it would help her creditability to see how helpless this creature really was.  As they were inspecting the beast, Anneleigh felt a tap on her shoulder.  She turned to see Marshal Oakheart.

“A word please, Anneleigh?” He asked her.  Anneleigh began to tremble slightly.  This sounded too official to be good news.

Marshal Oakheart led her out of the crowd to a quiet corner.

“You have done the Guardians proud, Anneleigh.  The town is safe from the Hollow’s Beast, and I’m told the injured folk are on their way to recovery.  Yet, I have a suspicion we have not heard the last of this threat.”

Anneleigh nodded.  “I have the same feeling, but your Mayor seems to believe otherwise.”

“He does not see what the rest of us see, day in and day out.  A short time ago, I sent a platoon to guard a priestess from the undead in northern Gloamwood.  She’s working on a ritual against death magic – a potent tool against our enemies.  I haven’t heard from them, though, and I fear the worst.  Can you check in on them?”

Anneleigh nodded.  Seems her trials in Gloamwood were not over yet, despite the insistence of the good mayor.

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