Tales of Alterra Chapter 1

 

Chapter 1

August the monster hunter knelt down to check the tracks of the monster he was hunting. It was a pigglewig, a slightly higher-grade monster than your average wild boar. Still dangerous, it was powerful enough to kill an untrained man.

The tracks told him that the pigglewig had switched trails right in front of him abut twenty minutes ago. August’s green-sense told him about which direction the monster had gone in.

August crept through the underbrush. He was about to enter a forest clearing, but then stopped. The moonlight came out of the clouds above and illuminated a sleeping figure, wrapped in a deep black coat. The forest was silent. August stayed in the shadows, surveying the landscape before him.

The sleeping figure did not move. It had not sensed August’s presence, as far as he could tell.

August picked up a stone and tossed it out into the clearing. The figure did not respond. This gave August the courage to creep out of the brush and into the opening.

August approached the body. Upon closer inspection, the body was that of a girl, underneath a thick black cloak. August knelt down next to the girl and reached, gingerly, towards her.

The girl’s hand snapped out and gripped August’s arm.

“Food.”

August was baffled. “Food?”

The girl looked up and her eyes became visible, shining bright red under the moonlight. Her hair flowed down past her shoulders and was shock white, containing stars in its fibers. Her skin was whiter than the stars. August had never seen anything like it before.

“Food.”

August took off his rucksack and pulled some jerky out of it. He held it out to the girl.

The girl snatched it out of August’s hands and devoured it. She swallowed and then looked up. Her eyes opened as if she had just noticed August’s face.

“Ooh, a greenblood.” She pulled herself up onto her knees and sat down cross-legged. “Water.”

August took out his canteen and handed it to her, hesitantly.

The girl took it with a bit more grace than the food and took a long swig. “Much thanks.” She shoved the canteen back at August. She stood up and wiped down her black cloak. The cloak covered everything except her face.

The girl took out a pair of sunglasses and applied them to the bridge of her nose. “I’ll remember this.” She turned around and began walking away.

“Wait,” said August. “I never got your name.”

“Name?” the girl turned to look back at August. “Elyse.”

“My name is August.”

“Hello, August.” Elyse turned back around and disappeared into the brush.

August took a deep breath. The encounter had been strange, but it wasn’t too strange. Finding a girl collapsed due to exhaustion at this time of night was a bit out of the ordinary, but August had seen worse. He shrugged. The girl was probably just another fellow traveler. Her being alive out here at all meant that she had enough wherewithal to kill a pigglewig or two. Those who traveled these roads alone had to be able to do at least that. She had just miscalculated her provisions or something and needed a pick me up. That was what August decided to think about the affair.

August continued tracking the pigglewig. It went in the opposite direction from where Elyse had gone. Without expecting to, August stumbled onto a fried corpse where there had once been a pigglewig. It lay in a small depression, charred black all around.

What had caused this? August knelt down next to the corpse.

Someone had tried to eat it. August thought it was common knowledge that pigglewig flesh tasted like, well, rotten fish. There was no palatable way to eat it.

And yet someone had tried. The person who had tried had teeth like a human and obviously either extreme ignorance of local fauna or a dash of recklessness—or both. August sighed, turning away from the beast. Pigglewig flesh was good for one thing—making candles. The candles made with pigglewig fat burned bright, clean, and long. Now that the body was in this state there was no use for it. August began the trek back to the main road. The nearest town was Dunhollow, which was a bit of luck, since August had a good relationship with its people. Greenbloods were a rare sight here in the southern wedge and the people needed someone to deal with monsters for them.

August checked the road before making his presence known. He stepped out of the forest and onto the path. The road was an ancient construct that was formed of a strange solid rock, through which wide cracks ran, and over which a wheel passed easily. It had been there since before recorded time. Roads like these crisscrossed the world disk and, in this part of the world, were well-traveled.

August began the trek back towards Dunhollow. The moon occasionally peeked out from between the clouds and illuminated the road ahead. The nighttime ambience was calming and gave August a feeling of safety. Owls dd not call when monsters were nearby.

Finally August made it to Dunhollow. It was early in the morning, maybe three hours to sunrise. The single guard at the gate caught sight of August.

“Who goes—Oh, August. I’ll open the gates for you.” He began winching open the palisade gate. As August passed inside, the guard whispered to him:

“There’s a witch around here. Better be careful who you talk to on the roads this late at night.”

Witch? Thought August. It could be that girl I saw earlier. August shrugged. It wasn’t in his contract to hunt down humans. As a greenblood, he was worn to protect all humanity, and that meant only killing humans when absolutely necessary. This did not seem like a case of that, but August decided to visit the town elder anyways. He knew where to go, and started down the main street towards the inn. It was early, but the town drunkards were probably still nursing beers there.

The town had a single street on which sat finer houses, but most of the outlying domiciles between the center and the palisade were small hovels. The village was a small one and dealt mostly in the fur trade.

August found the inn and pushed his way inside. The place was lit by a crackling fire and the innkeeper’s daughter stood behind the counter, polishing the table.

“August,” said the innkeeper’s daughter, whose name was Freyalie. “It’s been a while.”

August sat down at an empty table. “How have things been around here?”

“No too well, actually.”

“Oh?”

“There’s been a rash of curses.”

“How so?” August made the signal for a beer.

Freyalie took a mug to the tap. “Two of our village mothers have had mushrooms sprout from their arms. Several cattle have died, and their internals were filled with the same kind of mushroom.”

“Is Penny okay?”

“She’s fine.” Freyalie brought the mug to August’s table. “As good as any teenaged daughter could be.”

August took the mug. “I heard there was a witch.”

“You don’t do those things, do you?” Freyalie returned to the bar counter and leaned on it. “You’ve always said no to killing bandits around here.”

“I only kill humans when absolutely necessary. A witch poisoning a well or two with mushroom sickness doesn’t count for that.”

Freyalie sighed. “Well, I’d feel better if you at least investigated.”

“I also don’t do these things without pay.”

“Well, we’ll wake Village Elder when the sun comes up, see what he has to say about these things.” Freyalie picked up a rag and began wiping, even though the bar was exceedingly clean.

August nursed his beer until the sun came up. Being a geenblood meant that he only had to sleep once every three or so days. When the sun was light enough to see by, he paid his tab, left the inn, and went to Village Elder’s house.

Edwin, known around town as Village Elder, was the man appointed by the local baron to handle Dunhollow. He was a respected man because of his character, but that respect came with a distance. He was, after all, the one in charge of punishment and taxation.

August knocked on the fine wood-framed door. The butler opened the door and nodded.

Two minutes later August was in the sitting room watching a fire burn in the magnificent fireplace.

Edwin came into the room in his nightclothes.

“You’re early.”

“I am.”

“I can never get used to you greenbloods.” Edwin took a cigar out of a humidor and cut it.

“It’s not my problem.”

Edwin examined the cigar before lighting it. He puffed. “Well, I wasn’t saying it was. In any case, I know why you’re here. The witch?”

“I appreciate you understanding.”

“And you won’t kill her.” Edwin puffed, blowing a smoke ring.

“No. But was hoping that you’d let me deal with her, for a price, of course.”

“How would you deal with a witch without killing it?” Edwin examined the ash at the end of the cigar.

“Perhaps she can be persuaded to leave.”

“And you think you can do that?”

August frowned. “You doubt me?”

“I’ve always been impressed with your results.” Edwin paused. “Go ahead. I’ll pay you when she’s gone and the curse is reversed.”

“Two gold.”

Edwin sighed. “Always a stickler, you are. One gold.”

“One gold one silver.”

Edwin stretched out his arm for a handshake. “Deal.”

August shook his hand. “Deal. I’ll have her dealt with by sunset.”

Edwin stood up and walked to the window. “In the meantime, I have village stuff to attend to.” He looked at his nightgown as if he were surprised to be wearing it. “Well, first I must change. Go on, do your thing.” He waved his hand.

August stood up and left the sitting room. He passed the butler as he left the house and exited onto the street. He caught sight of Freyalie, carrying water, accompanied by Penny.

Penny was a red-haired girl of about fifteen who August had known for quite some time.

“August!” said Penny, waving.

August waved back. “Heyo. How have you been?”

“My mother has been teaching me spinning recently.” Penny frowned. “But I hate it. It’s so boring, I don’t like it.”

Freyalie pinched Penny’s arm. “Not in front of everyone.”

Penny made a face. “Well, it’s the truth.”

August made the best face he could given the situation.

Freyalie sighed, pulling Penny with her. She turned to look back at August. “I’ll see you at dinner tonight. I won’t take no for an answer.”

“I’ll be there,” said August. He turned and walked towards the village entrance.

Once outside the village he turned on his greenblood sense and searched for magic residue. He noticed a faint spell aura to the west and, for lack of a better target, headed that way. It happened to be upriver, and he traveled alongside its edge. On a whim, he knelt down and touched the water.

The water was not pure. It had the distinct note of magical contamination. This was probably what had been turning the cows into mushroom farms. Someone was up the river, polluting it with chemicals of some sort.

August stood up, wiping his hand carefully on his handkerchief. He folded it and returned it to his pouch before continuing up the river.

He reached a small waterfall rapids where the flow was considerably increased. There were a pile of stones next to the riverbank.

He had a hunch. Holding up his hand, he created an antimagic field and expanded it.

Right in front of him, hanging on a branch, were a woman’s underwear. And standing in the water, with one arm covering herself, was a girl August recognized. Her other hand was pointed at him and contained a deadly ball of fire.

“Oh,” said Elyse. She lowered her hand. “It’s you.”