image source
Go to Part 2 - 6 minute read
Saminel carried a lantern as his bony feet thudded against the planks of a long pier just after dusk. He had been fishing all day, but without any luck. No matter. Night fishing was something different altogether. Not so much because the fish bit more, but because the night always brought with it a little more excitement. The white caps rolling endlessly into the ever-reaching ocean. The coolness of the ocean spray prickling his skin.
He reached into his bucket of sand-shrimp to bait one onto a hook. He gasped and slung the lantern over the bucket. "Aw no!" There were only one sand-shrimp left. He sighed as the hook went through the center of the crustacean. "I guess we'll have to make you count." A phrase his father often used. The cork dropped into the water. It bobbed there. Saminel's feet dangled free as he watched the colorful buoy rise and fall with the waves. A light caught his eye and he looked around him. "Ooh, fireflies." He smiled as he reached to touch one.
Zalmo felt a little better about his suggestion once they were inside the tower. It looked to be as Baelerwyn had stated. The dust coating the floor planks appeared to have built up over the course of many years. No foot prints or single disturbance to any facet of the building was apparent.
They each creaked up the stairway and piled their bags and satchels in a corner.
Gregabor sat opposite the staircase near the window. The others huddled in different spaces around the room. It was a simple interior; mostly flat and very open. Still, it had to be better than on the ground where any creature might trip over their sleeping bodies.
Zalmo awoke in the night to the sounds of the Gregabor snoring. Malphus was perched at the window with his goggles on his head. The war hammer held upright supported by its base to the floor. Grimgander's eyes were half-closed and steady. They never seemed to widen or give much away.
Zalmo stalked up beside him. The dwarf's head turned slowly as he held a finger to his lips, and then pointed out the window.
Outside was a lone orc walking in the moolight.
"Should we kill it?" Zalmo whispered.
"Look at how it moves." The dwarf responded.
Zalmo did another take. There was something very odd about its gait, aimless and wandering.
"Focus on the neck." Malphus went on.
Zalmo could see an unnatural bulge on one side as if the creature's neck had been forcibly snapped. "I don't understand."
Malphus sighed. "I call it, the stalker."
"You've seen this orc before?"
"A goblin. A kobold. A wolf. And now, an orc."
Zalmo's eyes searched Malphus's face for the meaning.
"It's what you spell-weaving types might call a familiar. Searching the forests for something."
Zalmo's blood ran cold. "For us?"
Malphus nodded. "I've no doubt about it."
The orc shivered and then fell lifeless to the ground.
Malphus thumped his hammer against the wooden floor. "We've been found. I'll wake the others, gather your things."
Zalmo stayed at the window. Many different emotions wrestled within the gnome. There was a new and more profound fear of being hunted. There was intrigue in how Malphus was sharing more information with him. However, that soon coupled itself with fear because it could only mean that the dwarf was becoming desperate. Above all, was a lingering curiosity pulling hard in the direction of the orc.
This new magic was nothing like Zalmo had ever heard of. It was not a normal possession. If only he could dissect it, they might be free of this hunter creature. Surely it was responsible for the constant ambushes. And if those were unrelated, a foe this powerful had to be rid of regardless. None of them would ever sleep soundly as long as it was still alive.
Zalmo strapped his gear on, but Gregabor was slower than usual to rise. The gnome took the opportunity to leave the tower and inspect the orc.
It lay there in the moonlight as he approached. Something moved in the air above it where a small blue light grew in brightness.
Zalmo stopped, "A pixie."
Another illuminated, followed by many more, each glowing brighter with little tinkling wings. Their light began to flicker and change. Zalmo wondered what each of the other colors meant until they had decided upon a fiery red. Zalmo swallowed as he slid one foot back. The wings grew to an angry buzz as they advanced on the gnome.
To be continued...
