Dark Archer, Pt. 01

The fire was small yet cozy. I stood in a sheltered place so the wind would not be so bad. It would be difficult for anyone to know I was here. Also, it was a defensible position. My bow would take care of any that tried to approach. The quiver held a substantial number of arrows. Double barbed tips. They would not be easily removed. Those that survived would meet my sword. The master's I had studied with trained me to weave a whirling blade of death. But for now, quiet. I travel lightly, carrying only what I need to survive in the forest. My one exception. The Moka pot and coffee. And this is the beginning of my tale. The quest for coffee.

These things always begin with rumors. You hear of something spoken in hushed tones. A mountain deep in the woods. The woods filled with unknown horrors and treacherous obstacles. Death and carnage around every tree. Peace for the moment. My small metal cup with coffee. The sound of the wind in the trees. My ears keenly attuned to anything not of the ordinary. If you aren't alert, you die. A demonic bear nearly had me for supper once. I have been wary since. The cloak wrapped around me makes it difficult for others to clearly see me. Something about its properties causes me to appear indistinct or bleary. It was a good investment.

Oh yes, I forgot what I was talking about. Sorry. I was on my way to a mountain. A high and blustery peak. It was said that a mage lived there. That he made coffee that could heal any wound and perhaps bring back the dead. Although it escapes me how a dead person could drink coffee. I am in this for adventure. Not that trying to survive isn't an adventure. Cutthroats, Archers, murderers, thieves, and corrupt officials make life a risk. I just want to survive and make some coins with an occasional job. Killing is an easy job. So here I am.

I settled down next to the fire and sleep. I'd been traveling for about 21 days. In that time, I survived three bears, two wolf attacks, a mountain lion, and five bands of killers and thieves. I didn't kill them all, only when I had too. Sometimes running is the better alternative. The killers just wanted to rob me, take my life and my stuff. They learned too late that I'm not that easy to dispose of. And I look at it this way. Killing them is making the world a safer place. I was also able to glean a few of their supplies for my own use. Not a total loss. Some food, a good knife, fire tools and the like. I slept.

The morning was grey, cold, and windy. The hood of my cloak was up to keep the wind at bay. I walked slowly and cautiously with bow in hand. I did this for a couple of reasons. One never knows when you will be set by danger and dinner might run across your path. Oh great, it was beginning to snow. Midmorning had me on a well-worn path. This should lead somewhere with people. But it also posed danger. Thieves liked lone travelers. It wasn't long before I was on the edge of a little hamlet. The mountain was in full view. There was a place for some hot food and a decent mead. I could sit and relax just a bit. I keep my back to the wall. Don't like surprises. The food was passable, some sort of stew with root vegetables and a mystery meat. A piece of hard crusty bread and goat cheese. So much better than starving. I asked the owner about possible guides up the mountain.

He got all wide eyed and frightened.

"No!! No one goes up the mountain. Great danger. Bad magic and death."

He almost shrieked. Looks like I'll have to make my own way.

I sat there sipping my Mead and bemoaning my fate and luck. This would take longer. From the corner came this cackling sound. Some old croon sat there. Her hood went back to reveal a weathered face, grey rat's nest hair, and missing tooth grin.

"I can show you up the mountain." She rasped.

"But you must take me along with you."

And then there was more laughing and cackling.

I thought. "Really? You don't even look like you can make it across the floor. Let alone up a mountain.

I sat there for a few moments staring at her. It is not my habit to speak ill of someone. But she was one ugly old woman. And that damn cackling!! Gnarled hands and fingers, bloodshot eyes, yellow teeth, (what there was), cracked and yellow fingernails, blotchy scaly skin, and skin stretched over a skeleton that gave the appearance of death. Why would I bother to spend time with an old woman, let alone try to take her up a mountain? I got up and left.

She let go a crazed laugh and cried out, "You'll be back Archer. You'll be back."

I walked around the small village. There was the purchase of a few more supplies and I found a Fletcher. Having a very full quiver is not a bad thing. I even found a place that had some coffee beans. They were bought and ground for the trip. The nights were cool but would be colder as I ascended the mountain. I continued to search for a guide up the mountain. I was always met with the same fear and trepidation as before. A day or so of asking around and I had covered the entire village. No one wanted to go. Except that obnoxious old woman.

I found an inn, a relatively safe place to sleep. It had a door that could be locked. I would sleep somewhat securely. But you never know. The Inn Keeper could be a murderer and thief. My sword and knife lay close by. Sleep did not come quickly or easily. I lay there tossing and turning, wondering how I would get up the mountain. It was all very unsettling. So many unknowns, and that old woman. Why am I thinking about her? She is more like a nightmare. Sleep did come.

Somewhere in the night, I awoke. A slightly creaking door maybe? My hands gripped my weapons in the darkness. A shadowy figure crept towards me. There was the glint of light on a blade. In crossing motion, my sword flashed across his chest while my knife made a deep gash in the throat. The sound of a dying gurgle was all to be heard. The Inn Keeper would have a mess to clean in the morning. I checked the door, stepped over the body, and went back to bed.

The Inn Keeper had nothing to say in the morning. He just stood there sweating and pale. As I gripped my sword, I thanked him for the "free" night's stay. I went in search of food. There was a place down the street I found by following the scent of cooking.

Breakfast consisted of roasted chicken, a large loaf of bread and a decent-tasting cheese. Others have gruel of something like it. Not me, I want real food. Greasy fingers savored the fowl. Ripping large chucks of bread to sop up grease. Slicing thick wedges of cheese. This was good food and all washed down with a dry Mead. I sat back to survey the carnage I had left on the table. Most was consumed. I looked towards the street at some sound or motion. Instantly on the aware. Nothing? When I turned to face the table, there she sat. The old woman. She spoke before me. "I want food. I want to finish what you left." Then she just began to munch on my leftovers. The remaining edibles disappeared rather quickly.

Once it was all gone, she wiped her mouth and direct dirty sleeves. She was disgusting.

She spoke.

"Did you find a guide Archer? You did not. I know it. I guide up the mountain."

Then the longest cackle in history proceeded from her pale thin and bloodless lips. I began to realize there was no escaping this old hag. Fate or whatever. I slumped in my seat. How was I going to get this bag of bones up a mountain? I envisioned carrying her the entire way as she laughed. It was a horrifying thought.

I just shrugged my shoulders and spoke.

"Fine, we'll leave in the morning."

All I received was more laughing. She followed me all day on spindly and tottering legs. Laughing, always laughing. When I ate, she ate. Even that evening when I found a different Inn. She followed me into the room, plopped on the bed and went to sleep, snoring and grunting. Just when I didn't think she could be worse, she broke wind.

I had positioned in a chair against a wall opposite the door. Just in case there was a repeat of last night. I slept; she snored like a herd thundering through the room. Would I have to put up with this? The night passed and I didn't have to kill anyone. A good thing I suppose. They were probably afraid of the unholy sounds the hag made.

But I got up and packed. She rolled up to sit on the bed edge, lifted one ass cheek and farted for at least a minute. How impossibly repulsive can she be?

We sat down for breakfast, and she ate more than I did. Where was she putting it all? Belching and farting through the entire meal.

Then when all was consumed, she said.

"Shall we go now Archer?"

Yeah sure, let the miserable journey commence.

We plodded through the village towards the mountain. The old woman carried very little. Her clothes were worn and weathered. The walking stick she carried was as gnarled as she. And slow?? The way she moves, I'll be dead before we get there. But she keeps moving at the same deliberate pace.

The morning passed. We made more progress than I expected. I made the choice to hunt for lunch. This way the supplies would last. There was a rabbit some fifty paces away.

The Croon mumbles.

"You won't hit that, Archer."

It was an easy shot for me. A bit of walking and cleaning and soon lunch was roasting. No words of praise from hag woman about my ability.

Finally, I asked

"I can't call you Old Woman. Do you have a name?"

She ogled me with a bloodshot eye and answered.

"Yes, Archer, I have a name, Solenne."

I thought to myself. A very beautiful name for such a hideous creature. I kept that thought.

A rough growl asked of me.

"What is your name Archer?"

I had not uttered my name in years. No one usually lived long enough to hear it. But I told her anyway.

"Nockstring."

She only nodded.

We ate the rabbit and cleaned the campsite up. Then we went on our way. The progress was slow but steady. I thought she would have been worn out by now. But she kept a constant pace all day.

Towards evening we made camp. I went for something to eat while Solenne made a fire and camp. No comments about my archery abilities this time. A small deer would give us a fine meal and a few days of food. Upon my return to camp, Solenne had a fire going and a pot of edible roots cooking. Soon meat was cooking as well. It was a fine meal. I found I was surprised at how long she walked today and at how quickly camp was up. I began to suspect there was more to Solenne.

The time seemed right for some coffee. The area soon filled with the aroma of brewing. I passed a cup to Solenne. She took a whiff and then a sip, shivering for a moment. I thought it was because she thought it was good. But you know what? She seemed to smile and was a little younger. Yes, I know, I'm talking crazy. How could that be possible?

I added fuel to fire, and we settled in for the evening. Well-fed and toasty warm. I had sword, knife, and bow at easy reach. You know, just in case. Just before I nodded off, Solenne broke wind once more. It sounds like a rusted hinge and very creaky door. Just when I was beginning to tolerate her. Disgusting, then a short belch for punctuation. Time for sleep.

Wariness is a habit you develop early on in my line of work. The same when you are hunting. It's how you stay alive. My eyes opened to a slit. Someone was nearby. Maybe several someone's. But Solenne snored on, completely oblivious. My hands now held sword and knife.

Movement to my left. I was up and faced two attackers. The first went down before he knew. The second engaged me in battle. We danced and parried for almost a minute. Then he tried to hold his intestines in with his hands while falling to the earth.

I turned to face another foe. Solenne stood her ground against an attacker. He held a long knife, Solenne, just her staff. Her movements were fast and blurred with speed. I heard the sickening crack of her staff on the side of his skull. He went down lifeless.

Solenne and I both scanned for new targets. None appeared. Okay, I admit it. She has my admiration now. Solenne can be gross, but effective in a battle. I hauled the corpses off to the woods. Far enough away that something was going to eat well tonight and not bother us by a large fire. We slept closer for the rest of the night. Both of us were on heightened alert.

The morning arrived without further incident. We feasted on leftovers, broke camp, and trudged upwards. There was still plenty of forest. This meant shelter, but also hiding places for marauders. We would have to be careful. Solenne went on and on tirelessly. I would never have imagined.

Two days went by without incident or another soul. The food ran low. It was time for me to hunt once more. Skulking around with Solenne in tow. She insisted on going with me. I saw a buck in a clearing. I would be a very long shot, maybe a hundred yards. I waited patiently for a broadside shot. He turned and presented. I loosed. The blood trail didn't go very far. I had been on target. A messy but necessary job of skinning, cleaning, and preparing meat.

Solenne aided in a surprising and efficient manner. We had much to do and decided to rest here for a few days. This would allow us to use all the carcass. Food, sinew, and skin. You never know when you have make a new bow.

A long afternoon and evening. We sat to fresh meat and coffee. When Solenne had coffee, she did the shiver thing once more. Solenne did look a little younger. I told myself it was just being outside and active.

Meat was smoked and made ready for travel. Solenne seemed to find roots and other provisions in the forest. The forest remained thick and protective. Now that we had an enormous amount of food, I rested easier. The fire blazed warmly as we ate and then just sat to stare. Now and again, we saw yellow eyes in the distant trees. Wolves looking to see who had invaded the woods. The fire would keep them at bay. I had not seen any, but I knew there had been a bear or two nearby. The lumbering sounds and tracks.

Solenne and I sipped coffee.

Was it something innate? Something in the air? I didn't know but became instantly awake. Something was close and it was reeking of danger. A scan of the trees showed nothing. I reached for the bow and notched an arrow. Solenne had heard me stir or perhaps she knew something was nearby as well. We both waited. I caught the sparkle of a knife in Solenne's hand. Her staff is ready. Goosebumps rose on me. Very close now.

There was a crash in the woods. Limbs being snapped like twigs. The roar that was issued from the beast was deafening. It must have been seven foot tall or more. Shaggy white fur hung on massive arms and body. It covered the distance unbelievably quickly. Red eyes blazed in sockets. Three-inch incisors issue from its gaping mouth. I fired five successive shots into the thing but had to drop the bow and draw steel. The projectiles hit home in the thing's chest. It only swatted them away with a hairy arm and huge clawed hand. I sidestepped its attack and just barely. Crouching, I was ready. Solenne twirled her staff and waited with me. The pivot the beast made was graceful and fast. The second charge was directed at Solenne. She made the slightest movement to evade. The staff was planted in the ground. The beast tripped over it and fell into the fire. An ear-piercing roar was issued.

I think we made it angry.

The scent of singed fur hung in the crisp air. It no longer charged but stood and eyed us. We circle one another and waited. The beast came near our food. Picking some up, it sniffed it. Then to my surprise, it sat on its haunches and ate.

Solenne and I stood there, mystified. It gobbled our stores in seconds.

Then another surprise. It spoke.

"That good. Graud hungry."

I reached for a chuck of smoked meat and tossed it to Graud. He quietly sat and ate. Solenne and I both stood at the ready.

Graud leaned back against a log and spoke.

"Graud no kill. Sit now."

I ventured to speak with it.

"What are you? Who are you? Do you live here?"

Graud showed signs of thought and answered.

"Me Graud. Always here. You sit now. No kill."

We sat across from him. Solenne rose and boldly went to Graud.

She spoke.

"Let me see your wounds Graud."

He just grunted. Solenne felt his furry chest. The five arrowheads had hardly penetrated. Just enough to make small incisions. The tips were pulled out and then Solenne produced some sort of salve. This she rubbed into the wounds. Graud made only what I could describe as a smile.

He spoke.

"Graud like. Make Graud feel good. Like lady."

Well now. This is surreal. I pushed the fire back into one place as Solenne continued to heal our new campmate. I didn't anticipate going to sleep any time soon. I made coffee. As it began to brew. Graud would wrinkle his nose. The coffee was ready. I poured a cup for Solenne, myself and then asked Graud if he would like some. He grunted, so I gave him coffee.

This he sniffed more and then threw it back and into his mouth. The look on his face was a smile, at least as close as Graud could make.

"Graud like." He rasped.

I poured more into his cup. Those massive hands dwarfed the receptacle. I was so fascinated with Graud, I neglected to look at Solenne. She had retaken a seat and sipped her own coffee. Something was going on here. Her skin looked visibly smoother. Solenne only glanced at me to return her attention to coffee.

Graud seemed to relax and then stated.

"Graud like. Graud sleep here. Better than forest floor. You sleep. Graud listen."

Then he shut his eyes and issued long soft snores. I threw more wood on the fire and we did as Graud asked. We slept. I mean, who would want to take on such a monster?