Chapter 1: Prologue

A fire in the middle of the forest blazes. It is a simple campfire with an old crone sitting before it on a log. Across from her sits a weary traveler. He is adorned with thick silver plate armor, and his face has scars from battle. The Crone across from him is old and haggard. Their meeting in this forest is a strange one. The old crone starts to speak in an aged raspy voice. “What sort of twisted fate brought you here, traveler? Are you also seeking refuge from the woes of civilization?” 

“I was told that you could bring me great fortune. How does an old hag like yourself survive out here anyway?” The hag gave him the faintest of smiles before returning to the tankard filled with drink in her hand. “Unfortunately for you young man, I don’t do that sort of business anymore. You best look elsewhere if you want that sort of thing done.”

This wouldn’t do for the traveler. Yorn had traveled quite a ways away from the city of Hold to come for information. For travelers like him information could be life or death, and he had nearly given his life several times in seeking fortune. He was told that this very lady before him would be able to give him heaps of information and read his fortune for a price. It seemed that Andris would no longer read people’s fortunes. Just why have I come all this way then? Yorn thought to himself.

“There has to be a way! Please, I will do anything!”  She looked deep into Yorn’s eyes like she was appraising him. “Fine, fine no need to get so rowdy. I will tell you, but first you must pay the piper.” Yorn audibly gulped, he had no idea what price this woman was putting on her fortunes, but he had heard stories of the strange things people had to give her. One of Yorn’s close friends said that he had to give her a twistling caterpillar. Yorn had no idea what the woman would do with such a creature, but the crone was said to brew special potions herself. Yorn wasn’t sure if the woman was a witch in hiding, but he didn’t care. He needed information right now more than anything. He steeled himself as he started to ask. “What do I need to give you? I will give you anything.”

The crone started to shake her head. “You are quite mistaken. I need nothing from you. The only thing I ask of you is to listen to an old dying woman’s story. Do you think you could do that for me?” Yorn nodded vigorously. “If all I have to do is hear a story, then that is what I shall do.” 

“Good, good. Now where do I begin?” The hag looked up in thought as she placed a hand upon her chin. The wind in the forest started to pick up. It was as if the story she was about to tell was shaking the whole forest. “Young man, do you know about scarecrows?” Is she trying to call me an idiot? Of course I know what a scarecrow is! Yorn didn’t give voice to his thoughts, simply nodding his head instead.

“Strap in because this will be a long story, but first I must ask, have you ever heard of a talking scarecrow?” Of course scarecrows don’t talk! Does she take me for an idiot? She must have noticed the doubt on Yorns face. “This story is very much real, and it will serve you well to listen closely.” Yorn still looked doubtful, but he perked up. He made sure he would hear her words.

“Deep within the heart of the Forest of Westro there once existed a being with power greater than any single man…” She must be talking about that amalgamation. Of course I know of it. How could I not? All of the children's stories about the amalgamation were horrifying when I was little. “I see you know about the amalgamation? But this story is a bit different. Now where was I? Right! The being known colloquially as the amalgamation was unrivaled in power, but this is the story about a scarecrow that was touched by the amalgamation. Anything that was granted power by the amalgamation had the ability to transform. I am sure you are aware of this, but did you know that one of the amalgamations creatures still lives to this day?”

Yorn scrunched up his face. To him it was like he just heard a stupid joke. None of the amalgamations creatures were alive anymore. The hero had slain them all. If there was such a being roaming free then all of the kingdoms would be in danger. “Surely you're joking? The amalgamation and its many disaster designated creatures were all killed by the hero. This has been the truth for over a thousand years.” The crone simply shook her head. “The truth is right before your eyes. You see, young man… I once ran into the last living creature brought forth by the amalgamation. I call it The Scarecrow…” Very original name for a talking scarecrow. Yorn wanted to quip back at the old lady, but he couldn’t be bothered as she continued her story.

“The Scarecrow is a harbinger. You see, it is the signal. ‘The crows shall gather, and when they do the scarecrow will make itself known to man. This will signal the return of the amalgamation and the end of mankind.’” Yorn knew that phrase from an old prophecy depicting the return of the amalgamation, but he thought the scarecrow would be a metaphor for something. The hag makes it as though the scarecrow itself is a living being. Not that an old prophecy is to be believed anyways.

“Don’t give me that look, young lad. I only speak of truths. The prophecy is no lie either. The Scarecrow has returned. I saw the crows gather, and I witnessed the return of it. The Scarecrow looked upon myself, and it opened its disgusting mouth. Its mouth oozed out a foul odor, and I could see a green liquid coming forth. As the liquid spilled onto the ground it started to melt the plants. I am convinced it must have had some acidic property. I couldn’t do anything as it started to speak to me. I was stuck frozen in terror. ‘You are a witness. I have come to make it known. My lord will return, and with it the world shall despair. Make my presence known, for the harbinger has brought you a message. Cling onto your wretched life. Clutch your loved ones, for despair awaits you.’ Just like that, The Scarecrow disappeared.” 

Yorn couldn’t believe what he was hearing. She must be making all of this up. There is no way for any of it to be true.  I just want this story to be over, so I can get the information I came here for. Yorn looked down while thinking about the prophecy. If what she says is true, then this information should have been out there already. When did she even meet this scarecrow? He looked up to try and ask her, but when he looked up she was no longer there. He looked around in every direction, but there was no one there. A goosebump inducing wind blew through the area, and the bonfire went out. “Hag? Where are you!?” He looked around and couldn’t find her. He heard the wind woosh behind him, and he quickly turned around grabbing the pommel of his sword. His very being filled with terror as he stared at what was now in front of him. The old hag was hanging there from two trees by a pole that was piercing her skull from side to side. Her face was filled with terror, but it also looked like she had been dead for some time. Yorn heard the sound of crunching leaves behind him, and he whipped around. When he did he saw the old hag sitting back on the wooden log with a smile on her face.

“Wh-what are you?” Fear filled Yorn when he saw that the mouth that had been smiling was dripping green ooze onto the ground. The hag that was before him let out a wretched laugh that sounded twisted. “Hehehehehehe!” Immediately her face began to wriggle and Yorn quickly unsheathed his sword. The hags face distorted until it became a straw face with its mouth hanging open. The green ooze dripped from its now open mouth. The mouth looked like an endless green void, and the rest of her body became a strawman before Yorns eyes. The strawman grew in height to be about 11 feet tall, and its limbs were slender giving it an ominous look. Its whole body had a green glow, especially the eyes which glowed brighter than the rest of it. 

Yorns whole body started to quiver in terror, and he started to hyperventalate. The scarecrow just started to laugh maniacally ignoring Yorns terror. The laughter grew louder and louder grating on Yorns ears. “Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” He started to yell as the laughter grew, but it wouldn’t relent. Even when he closed his eyes and wished he could be elsewhere all he heard was laughter. Even when he opened his eyes and the scarecrow was no longer there he could still hear the laughter. He turned around, and the hags corpse was also gone. Actually everything was gone. The campfire that they were using to communicate: gone. The tankard that the woman drank from: gone. The logs that they seated themselves on: gone. There was nothing there, but Yorn could still hear the laughter. Even when he left the campsite the laughter followed. He wanted to will away the laughter, but it wouldn’t relent until there was one last whisper. “The amalgamation has returned! Woe to humanity. Woe to you. You are a witness… Consider yourself lucky.” 

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