Guild Tales – A Dark Fantasy Epic

Chapter 7: Chapter 6


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The horses' hooves, which had beaten into the ground with such an intense ferocity only moments ago, slowed to a snail's pace as the pair of adventurers approached the edges of Shadowfen. The front gate sat long unused, chains broken and coated in rust, no garrison in sight to defend the collection of ramshackle buildings beyond the yawning arch of fallen brick.

A place of death, screaming for salvation from its own decay.

That’s how it looked to the average person, at least, but Scarlett knew the shady town for what it truly was: a home for some of the greatest thieves and brigands in all of Udrela, their wealth of information available to those willing to pay. It would not surprise the common man to think otherwise, the starving populace, often sickly and homeless, creating a rather vivid display of poverty.

Knowing all of this, the pair of adventurers abled past reaching beggars and dubious merchants, pulling up next to a hulking man. His face was halfway in the ground, drops of beer dripping from his slack jaw. Pulling out a handful of copper coins, Scarlett let them fall from between her fingers, sprinkling the man in their dull, clinking form. "Get up, Ichor. I heard you have some good information for me."

A man of low repute and high debts, Ichor was a man like many to be found in Shadowfen, sidestepping that generalization only in how long he had survived the dangerous streets he now slept so peacefully in. Having met him several years prior, the two had become fast friends, Scarlett discovering how quickly Ichor was willing to turn over others for a bit of coin when he outed a pack of highway robbers she had been hired to apprehend.

The burly man, almost up to Rolt’s chest at his full height, groggily pushed himself to his hands and knees. Ichor's tired eyes went back-and-forth between Scarlett and the money she'd thrown down, his dazed mind trying to process the situation. Then, as if he'd been struck by a bolt of lightning, Ichor jumped to his feet, grabbing up the coins and pocketing them. "Scarlett! Well, it's been a mighty long time since I've seen your pretty face ‘round here. What can I do for you?"

Scarlett smiled. "I'm looking for a friend, and I heard that he might have passed through here not too long ago. You know anything about that?"

Jowls quivering as he put finger to lips, wracking his alcohol-rattled brain, Ichor dug deep for any details he might have overheard. "I do recall a rather dangerous stranger passing through here about... a week ago? Maybe two by now, I can't rightly recall." The man who smelled of rancid eggs shut his eyes tight, lower lip jutting out. "Had a hood, and his hair was like silver – though I may have imagined that part, the brandy has been strong as of late – and he wore enough knives to arm a small band o’ troops."

"That's the guy." Scarlett nodded. "I know he headed up north from here, but I was hoping for a more specific destination."

Ichor shrugged, "All I know is that he left with Torden – a dwarf, and a strong one at that. Apparently they got mixed up in some trouble together, had Rasfin’s gang after ‘em. I heard he also joined up with this elf just outside of town, though that’s less reliable info from a scav.”

“Well, that’s… not really helpful.”

Ichor shrugged. "Sorry, but that’s all I got. Anything else I can do for you?"

Scarlett shook her head. "No, but thanks for the help, little as it’s worth.”

"Hey, I'm here whenever you need me."

The redhead nodded slightly before rearing up her steed, heading off towards Shadowfen’s northern exit, Rolt riding no farther than a meter behind, cautious eyes darting to-and-fro. The large warrior's lethal glares were met with mixed responses, from fear to drunken bravery.

“Relax, big guy. They might be thieves and cutthroats, but they’re not stupid. And besides, they know me. Well, some of them, at least. A handful, maybe.” Her companion growled down a passing pickpocket, eliciting a light chuckle from the redhead. “Come on, let’s stop by a store and grab us some gear. I don’t want to be caught in the rain unprepared again.”

There were a multitude of shops and stalls that sold what they needed, opening plenty of choice when it came to overpriced pieces of canvas and rusty picks. Eventually the two found what they wanted, heading off with no information past what Ichor had already told them.

“So, he’s heading north, which we already knew, and on foot, which I’d already guessed.” Scarlett sighed, their horses clip-clopping through the northern gate, the new set of camping supplies strapped secure to the back of their saddles. “Well, we’ve traveled this far. Might as well keep going, at least until we hit Marbleton, or pick up his trail on the way.”

Riding past Shadowfen’s threshold, they passed a smattering of corpses, stripped bare. Scarlett gave the scene none of her attention, a stark contrast to the plain disgust upon Rolt’s face, soon leaving the unknown dead behind.

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* * *

Talon’s trail wasn’t difficult to track.

A wandering horse dragging a one-handed knight was their first sign, though the body had a putrid smell, rotting in the metal suit for a few days by this point.

“Wait here.” Dismounting Ruby, Scarlett crept up to the lost horse, the equine nibbling upon the healthy grass, unbothered by the awful stench. Light steps led the redhead into the animal’s line of sight. The horse turned its head in a lazy arch towards her, too tired to try and run away. “Hey there,” Scarlett whispered, trying her best to soothe the exhausted animal. Shaking its head, but making no further movements, the horse simply huffed in protest. “Okay, okay. Just relax. Good horsey.”

Walking to the horse’s side opposite the corpse, Scarlett crouched down next to its saddle, slipping her fingers gently across the leather straps that kept it buckled in place. Trying to undo the large, iron buckle, something caught, and the metal stuck. Groaning, catching the horse’s attention for a quick moment, she watched, sullen, as it looked away, returning to its feast.

Once the horse’s attention was off her, Scarlett quietly drew one of her two broad-bladed daggers, tugging the cinch from the horse’s stomach, putting just enough of her knife’s blade against the leather strap to sever it without touching the horse. With a quick jerk, she sliced through the first cinch, repeating this with the second, and letting the corpse’s weight drag the saddle off, plopping to the ground with a muted thud.

The noise, and sudden drop in weight, surprised the horse. Trotting away, it looked down at Scarlett, seeing the knife in her hand, and the saddle’s severed strap. Neighing, it tossed its head appreciatively before going back to chewing on the roadside greenery.

With knuckles on her hips, Scarlett smiled, turning back to mount Ruby. “Alright then, that’s that. Come on, big guy, let’s get out of here. I have a feeling that was somehow Talon’s handiwork.”

Rolt nodded, cracking Obsidian’s reins, speeding down the road with a newfound invigoration.

* * *

The next sign came a day’s ride later. Piles of small corpses littered the road, flesh torn from their bodies by large, canine fangs, leaving only scraps of the sickly green skin to identify them. Rolt sniffed in disgust, putting his disdain for goblins on full display, letting Obsidian crush a few bones under his hooves.

“Easy there!” Scarlett snapped. “I don’t need you destroying what’s left before I get a good look at the scene.”

Huffing, Rolt and Obsidian left the redhead to her business.

Hopping down from her saddle, Scarlett began rummaging through the corpses, finding several broken arrows lodged in the bodies, huge gashing wounds in others. “That’s certainly unusual for Talon; guess the elf he picked up uses a bow… and these bigger wounds look to be made by an ax. The dwarf, probably. Or maybe it’s the other way around, wouldn’t that be a break in the cliché?” She found scraps of burnt leather, hopping with joy. “Hey, hey, hey!” She motioned at Rolt, holding up the pieces of boiled leather, pointing at it, body animated for effect. “This colour looks like what Talon wears!”

The scrap was a faded gray; a generally common shade, but Rolt couldn’t bring himself to knock down his companion’s hope.

Dropping back down to the pile of bodies at her feet, she smiled, finding the subtler cuts of Talon’s dagger in the bones, all of which had been aimed for vital areas. “Yes!” Looking over at her giant of a friend, whose face remained contorted, Scarlett waved at the nicked remains. “Hey, Rolt! Talon came through here, I have no doubt about that now. He seems to be following the road.” Rolt nodded his understanding, Scarlett quickly hopping back into her saddle. “Let’s go!”

Leaving the pile of corpses behind them, the two adventurers rode quickly, making haste after their friend’s trail.

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