In a time long ago
There lived in the kingdom of Gallowmere
A sorcerer named Zarok.
This arrogant, pitiless man hated his fellow citizens
for their simple and peaceful ways.
So he set out an army of demons
to claim the realm for his own
The King's Champion Sir Daniel Fortesque
Led the militia into battle against this unholy horde.
Songs are sung of how he spearheaded the charge
deep into the accursed multitude
how demons fell before him
like wheat before the scythe.
And how at last,
though mortally wounded
he destroyed the sorcerer utterly.
Or so they had thought.
Sir Daniel had fallen
along with many of his fellow soldiers.
And even with Zarok's army slain
the sorcerer had vanished.
A century passed
and the sorcerer had returned.
But as fate would have it
Sir Daniel had returned from beyond the grave
and this time, destroying him completely.
Sir Daniel earned his place in
the Hall of Heroes as a true hero
but his journey did not end here.
Centuries come and gone
a new sorcerer by the name of Lord Palethorn
unwillingly brought back the Hero.
His plans of taking the world by force had failed.
With yet another battle won
Sir Daniel now waits for a new challenge to emerge…
"What do you think, Captain Fortesque?" Canny Tim glances at the knight hopefully, "I'm no writer, but this was the best I could come up with on such short notice!" To which the skeleton knight grinned, "It's written quite well," the archer's face lit up, "However," his smile immediately faltered, "You're missing an important detail." "What?" Tim exclaimed, taking the parchment paper in his hands, eyes skimming over the piece for the aforementioned flaws. He shook his head and set down a new sheet onto his desk, retrieving his quill from the inkwell. "This is no good at all if you found flaws, I just might have to start all over again!" He was about to tear the written paper apart when a skeletal hand grasped his shoulder, "No need to destroy it, there was one detail you forgot to add."
"But what did I miss?"
"I recall you as well as the others aiding me in my quest."
"Oh, right! I'm sorry, but I didn't have enough room."
"Fair enough, other than that, it's perfect."
"You really think so?"
"Tim, have I ever lied to you?"
"I believe you have, more than once might I add."
The knight playfully punched his friend's shoulder, "I meant your work." The archer sheepishly replied, "No, not that I'm aware of." Daniel smiled, if there was anything he admired about his right-hand man, it was that he was eager to please others. However, his communication skills could benefit from some improvement. "Remind me again why I had to write it down?" Tim sighed, "You are a much better storyteller than I could ever be, and I can't take everything from your perspective!" "Well for one I lack a brain." Daniel tapped his skull, "And I know you like writing, so why not?" Plus, he didn't want to lose himself in the moment, as the last few times he had attempted to write down his story, he had written so much it'd have enough pages to put the Holy Bible to shame! "If it makes you happy, then I suppose I must respect your wishes." Tim smiled, "After all, you are my best friend."
The knight chuckled before taking the finished piece into his hands, "I thank you for your efforts, Tim. Perhaps I could get this hung up in the Kensington Museum; the public should at least know the full story." Only question is how he'd be able to get it submitted, and if he did maybe he'd be able to see her again. The thought of her lying in her coffin so peacefully made his heart sink; he had heard that they had since been separated not only in death but also in life. The archer took note of his friend's melancholy, "Your lady…you still miss her, don't you?" "Almost every day; she hadn't done enough to be recognized as a hero, I try not to think about and yet…" Dan frowned. "I understand." Tim finished, he as well as the other heroes that dwell within this eternal paradise knew how painful it was, knowing that you'd forever be separated from the ones you truly cared for, "We can feel your pain, and I assure you that we're going through the same trouble, even after all these years."
"I'm sure she misses you just as much as you miss her." Tim reassured his friend, "And I know you'll see her again soon." "You say the same thing to everyone else." Dan rolled his eye. "It's important to never lose hope, because the moment you give up, that's when you've truly lost someone." He corrected him, "I know I'll see my friends and family again." "Oh, am I not your friend?" The knight flashed a mischievous grin. "You're my friend!" Tim shot up from his seat with a defensive gesture, "I was only referring to my other friends. You know…the ones that didn't make it to the hall of heroes and all that!"
"Right…" He slapped Tim on the back, "Come along Tim, and let's have a drink together. You know, like old times."
"But you can't drink, you're a skeleton."
"Wouldn't hurt to try again, you did say I shouldn't give up on something."
Tim laughed, "So I have said." As they were leaving the room, a new question had popped into the Archer's mind. "Captain?" he began, "What do you suppose happened to Gallowmere?" To which Dan shrugged his shoulders, "I'm not sure, I haven't looked into it yet. But who knows? It could be a big, bustling tourist attraction." "I could only imagine…" Tim stifled a laugh.
.
.
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A humble village with a once magnificent castle; the ancestral home to a long line of kings, the last relic of a more noble time, now a thriving tourist trap with an excessive number of visitors coming and going each day. To the citizens of Gallowmere, seeing a tour bus was a daily occurrence. And on this particular day, the official Gallowmere Tours was passing by the fields. Each day, the story of Sir Daniel's quest would be told to eager visitors such as children and adults with a fascination with the supernatural. However, since the day of the tour's opening, the story slowly lost its whimsical touch, and had since grown stale. It had gone to the point where the visitors were only using the bus as a better way to get around than going by foot. This was exactly what business owner Nebby Donk was doing.
She was lucky to take a break from her job. After all, owning a bakery was no cake walk. "What a way to spend your holiday," she thought, "God, does anyone put any effort into these tours?" Looking out the window, she could see the golden wheat and bright blue sky moving at a fast rate. A little mental game she played as a child and still played even at 33 years old, where she'd look out and imagine there'd be a little character running at that pace as if it were an impossible Super Mario game. When her mind could no longer produce the mental image, she sought refuge on the internet. But on this occasion, she couldn't get any service, earning a small groan. I guess its video game soundtracks until I get back to the hotel. Nebby put on her headphones and opened her music app, tapping on the first song that caught her interest. At least with the music, it'd drown out the monotone voice of the tour guide. Nebby looked at the other passengers, who had either fallen asleep or had their faces buried into a book, pamphlet, tablet, etc.
"I knew I should've gone to Greely Valley…"
An hour always seemed to be a few minutes for Nebby, as the bus made a sudden halt within a heavily populated forest. The cobblestone ground covered the once lengthy, beautiful grass and moss. In the center was a fountain with a statue of a winged demon, which was the main focus of the tourist's photo shoots. She removed her headphones just in time for the guide to say, "Feel free to visit the gift shops and shop 'till you drop. Remember, leave footprints and treasured photos here, not your trash." He pointed towards the green and blue bins, which had been overflowing with garbage. Nebby could only cringe at the sight and think of what her mother would say about that, probably along the lines of "So, is anyone coming to take the trash out?" or "I'll bet this is how they treat their homes too, no respect." Shaking the thought away, Nebby went straight into the gift shop. After all, she did promise to bring her friends and family souvenirs. The aisles were jam packed with plush toys of various monsters described in Sir Daniel's story, postcards, shot glasses, snow globes, etc.
Toys were a must for her nephews and nieces, shot glasses were perfect for herself and her friends, and t-shirts should be alright for her parents and siblings. Once she had collected all her items she went up the register, setting them down whilst she dug into her black void of a handbag. No matter how hard she tried, it'd always be filled with neon colored pens, business cards, napkins, and no-calorie sweeteners. After half a minute of digging, Nebby retrieved her leather wallet and pulled out the amount she needed for purchase. She noticed the cashier placing papers into her bag, "Hey, hey, hey, what's with the papers?" "Ma'am, these are coupons for the carnival. I'm required to give them to every customer that makes a purchase here." He replied. Fair enough, maybe she'd find the "free" coupons in there.
Snapping photos inside this disaster of a forest wasn't necessary. Besides, what would she take a picture of? The overflowing trash cans? How about the ruined statues standing in the middle of a murky-watered fountain? Why not snapshot the first fat tourist she'd see toting a fanny pack and Hawaiian blouse? Okay, maybe she'd do the last one if there were such tourists here, but besides that there was nothing else that interested her. Plus, there wasn't that much forest anyway, trees had to be cut down for housing. Just as she got back into the bus, she spotted an old woman; possibly in her 60's and in ragged clothing, running out from the forest. The woman threw herself onto the rangers patrolling the area screaming, "Look what you've done to the trees! The spirits are weeping! Do you not hear them? They are grieving over the friends and family you have slaughtered!" Nebby watched from her window seat as the other tourists gathered to watch the scene unfold. "Geez, I thought the 60's is over." She muttered, "Fucking hippies, I swear…" The old woman continued her psychotic breakdown, at one point getting onto her knees and screaming about how the "tree spirits" were disappointed with humanity. The Old Woman had to be dragged away by the rangers, who had finally grown weary of her insane banter. As she was being dragged off, Nebby could've sworn she saw the woman looking at her and flashing a twisted grin. The sight made her stomach jump and her eyes widen slightly as Nebby sunk into her seat. Hopefully she wouldn't have to encounter the psychotic hippy lady again.
"Yeah, I got it, Sal." Nebby supposed, "I'm coming home tomorrow morning, just remember to water the plants for me and throw out any old food, I had everything labeled." She held in her hands a plastic bag containing take-out. Ah, fresh MSG and sodium. "Oh, and don't even think of getting into my liquor cabinet, I changed the password." She laughed, "Okay, I'll call you back. Bye." Hanging up, Nebby placed her phone back into her handbag. The weather was nice tonight; she could almost smell a rainstorm coming. Funny how she was able to know when it was going to rain or not, then again where she lived it rained frequently. Good timing as well, enjoying some Chinese takeout after a nice hot shower and looking out the window as it rained was the best feeling. Nebby took a deep breath and smiled, the feeling faltered upon hearing a trash can fall over in an alleyway. It was in between the library and "Magic" shop, nothing too sketchy, really. However, traveling etiquette still applied; never go into an alley alone. At least, not without knowing what could be there. She brought her phone back out and turned on her flashlight, the bright light beamed over the small alleyway, scanning the area for the source of the sound. It was much too cramped, so the possibility of someone hiding was out of the question. Instead, she found a book, just lying there. From closer inspection, Nebby confirmed it to be a new book due to no scratches or tears being found. Now who in the right mind would throw out a brand-new book, practically off the showroom floor? Perhaps she'd never know, but regardless, a good book must never go to waste. Nebby reached out and picked it up with her free hand, it had a rich, dark red leather cover with a bright red thread signifying the bookmark. A thunder clap made her stomach jump, preventing her from opening the book now. Perhaps she'd wait until she was at her hotel to read it. Or maybe- she looked around for a bench, maybe she'd grab a drink first and then check out the bookmarked page.
Nebby took refuge at a pub, ordering herself a glass of ale before taking a seat at a corner to read its contents. And if she thought serial killer documentaries were disturbing, it held no candle to what she read. It ranged from dissecting the human body, to raising the dead, then reaping the very souls of the innocent, and then to something as mundane as card tricks. She'd finished her drink before she could complete a single section, and a shame too, as she'd lost her appetite. One wasn't going to be enough, and if she was going to power through it, she needed another, and something stronger. "Hey, Bartender, can I get a round of tequila? And keep it coming too!" Normally one would stop, but despite the horrific content, Nebby was rather intrigued. The more she read, the more she drank. By the time the bar closed, she'd stumbled into the resurrection part of the book.
She could barely stand straight much less hold up a book after seven or eight shots of pure tequila, and yet despite her blurring vision and swirling sensations, she was determined to act sober. Blinking in and out of consciousness, the most she could recall was purchasing candles, salt, and a box of matches. Stumbling into a graveyard was part of it, though she didn't know why she was there. Well, it was better than having your clothes fall off. Maybe she uttered a few incomprehensible words here and there, something, something Latin? Rough hands and harsh scolding, she definitely recollected, as well as punching the groundskeeper there. Though, once she'd returned to her hotel room, the staff had to escort her there in fear of any weirdos following her. Safety protocol was the best. And once alone, Nebby somehow changed and got into bed.
It was only later in the night that the previous shenanigans might've caught up to her. It started with the usual side effects including vomiting and headaches.
But then came a horrific pain in her stomach, Nebby groaned and tried to sleep off the pain, it's only when her calves became spasming that it grabbed her attention. Shooting up, Nebby sharply inhaled and quickly sat on her calves, her hands moving to massage out the knots. It didn't end there, as her wrists felt as though they were wearing red hot iron bracelets, the pain traveling up her arms and then towards her head. Nebby leaned as far back as she could, holding her head and hearing her back cracking like knuckles. Try as she might, simple breathing and massaging wasn't cutting it. Every inch of her body felt as if it were on fire, or a thousand needles had punctured her skin. Nebby found herself writhing and contorting uncontrollably, the only things running through her mind were, Morphine, Ibuprofen, Aspirin…
Being drunk and in severe pain, Nebby struggled to get out of her bed, almost rolling right off several times. She relented and chose to crawl her way to the bathroom, the contorting had ceased, though the pain was still present. Hoisting herself up onto the counter where she left all her emergency medication, she grasped pill bottle after pill bottle, popping them into her mouth like candy before downing it with water from the sink faucet. Little by little, she felt more like herself, and drowsy. Nebby was able to stand again, and used the opportunity to get back into bed. This time, without interruption.
.
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THUMP!
Canny Tim fell onto the ground, panting and sweating. Woden shook his head, "This is the fifth time you've challenged me to a duel and lost, you just don't know when to quit, don't you?" The archer sat back up, shaking his head. "Your determination is admirable, but you must take your physical health into consideration." Karl Sturngard sighed as he retrieved a chalice full of fresh water and handed it over to the archer. He graciously accepted the drink and immediately began gulping it down. Woden gave Tim his crossbow back, "That's it for today, we'll need to work on your defense again, we should have time for it tomorrow." "Thank you, and don't worry, I'm sure I'll get it right this time!" Tim set down his water onto a nearby table, "After all, practice makes perfect!" Sir Dan, who had been leaning against one of the pillars, smirked. "Even after all those years, and you still can't defend correctly?" he chuckled, "I'm surprised at you, Tim."
"I know I shouldn't have been so focused on my archery and I may be out of practice, but still, it's nice to step out of my comfort zone every once in a while." Tim smiled. "That's the spirit, old chap!" Stanyer patted him on the back, "Optimism like that is always welcome on the battlefield!" "Go wash up, it's getting close to dinner time." Karl pointed towards the exit of the training room. Tim playfully rolled his eyes, and proceeded to exit the room. Woden crossed his arms, "Hmph, I don't see why you need to bathe, if God wanted us to smell like flowers all the time he wouldn't have given us armpits!" "Says the man who smells like King Peregrin's training barracks, and I'm a walking corpse!" Sir Dan teased. The others began to laugh, "Good one, Fortesque!"
The knight was contented with himself; it was a good day thus far, and making the others laugh only contributed to the cheerful mood. It didn't last long; it was faint, but Dan swore he hear someone repeating the following words…
Tala Ruse per
Capitar Non sequitir
Et cetra
…
The words repeated three times in his head before fading out. It made him feel lightheaded, he felt like he knew this spell somewhere, but where did he hear this incantation? His train of thought was put into a brief halt at the sound of someone collapsing, as his eye widened at the sight of an unconscious Canny Tim just inches away from the exit. He and the others rushed to his aid, but was then pushed away by Ravenhooves. "Give the man some air!" The centaur prince demanded, "And someone please retrieve Lady Stormbinder!"
"On it!" Karl saluted before sprinting out the room through another exit, returning with the Celtic woman almost a minute later. Megwyne hurried over like a concerned mother and examined her "child" for vital signs. "Looks normal- pulse is still going and he's breathing, albeit very shallow, he'll need plenty of rest for now." She glared at Woden, "You overworked him, did you?"
"I did not; I ensured that he received plenty of water while under my supervision."
"Regardless, he's completely exhausted, if you could please take him to his room, that would be lovely."
"Yes, Lady Stormbinder," Woden looked down at the unconscious archer, "Alright then, off to bed with you." He then scowled at Karl and Dirk, who were snickering at the sight of him scooping Tim up in his arms. Karl had whispered to Dirk something akin to Woden acting like a father and just overall parent jokes, who unfortunately caught wind of it, "And what's so funny?" He growled. Immediately the two stopped, earning a grunt and a, "that's what I thought."
Later in the night, Dan knocked on Tim's door, "Tim? Are you up yet? I swear, you've never slept that long before! You even missed supper, are that ill?" Seemed like continuously talking to a door wasn't doing much good for him, lucky him, Tim rarely ever locked his door. Turning the knob and entering, he expected his friend to be either awake and rewriting his story yet again, or in a deep sleep; neither of which he got. Instead, he was greeted with an empty bed. Dan frowned and thought, Hm, maybe he's already up and fixing that crossbow of his. He exited the room, the Hall of Heroes itself may appear massive at first glance, but after a few centuries it'd seem small.
The training grounds were vacant, save for the occasional dummy with a multitude of arrows lodged into the belly.
The bathing areas were indeed occupied, though by one very agitated Ravenhooves, who when walked in on shot an arrow in retaliation. Dan bolted out of there as quickly as he'd came in, despite there not being much to see. Let the little prima-donna have his spa day, after all, a pampered and relaxed Ravenhooves was a good Ravenhooves.
Kitchens were occupied by Dirk and Karl, supervising them was Megwyne. Supper had been a disaster, as per usual, ending with a food fight and a full-blown fist fight between them. One of these days, their tirade on who has the better weapon was going to come to an end, though it appears that tonight might not be the night.
There chatting in the main area of the hall were Woden, Stanyer, Imanzi, and Bloodmonath; but no Canny Tim in sight. While he knew his friend to be a scrawny fellow, he also knew damn well that Tim wasn't at all emaciated or 2-dimensional. And even with the lack of flesh, Dan felt that phantom sensation, like his stomach twisting into various knots, that something was wrong. If he didn't speak up, he'd never get his answers. "Have any of you seen Tim this evening?" He wondered, "I hadn't heard a word from him since training this afternoon."
Those in the room glanced at each other before either shaking their heads or shrugging their shoulders. "None of us had seen him, Fortesque," Stanyer answered, "Have you checked the training grounds?"
"I had, no one has been in there since noon."
"And what of the baths?" Imanzi inquired.
"I did find an archer in there but last I checked, Tim wasn't a centaur."
"Why not the kitchen then?" Woden raised a brow.
"Megwyne would've told me, and Dirk and Karl wouldn't be stuck on clean-up."
"I don't think he's left his room, I didn't hear the door opening," Woden sighed, "Are you sure he's not trying to fuck with you?" Dan was offended, "Tim isn't that kind of man, you know that. Okay, something is really wrong here, he couldn't have just up and left the Hall." It was true, so now the question was, where is Tim now?
"I'm getting Megwyne, I've a feeling this might be magic…" Imanzi strode out of the area and towards the kitchen, Dan following close by.
.
.
.
It was the dead of night when the cemetery found itself with a new visitor, or rather, a resident. Having clawed out of his casket and dug out of the ground, Tim found himself to be a complete mess. He gasped for fresh air, coughing when he had dirt in his mouth. By that time, it had begun raining too. So now Tim had to pull himself out of a growing mud puddle too. Once out, he sat by the tombstone bewildered, other than discovering that he had been buried alive, what happened? "Okay, okay, calm down Tim, you've got this. Just think, what happened beforehand?" He took a deep breath, he remembered turning back to retrieve the chalice of water he left behind and then hearing some odd words, which made him feel dizzy. Next thing he knew, he was digging for his life. So, someone had resurrected him; great. He turned around to see fresh flowers placed next to his tombstone followed by put out candlesticks. His tombstone had words etched onto it, yet the words were barely legible.
Lo ing Fi ce ,
L yal frien ,
Br ve heart he o
He sighed and stood up, as much as he'd like to sit there and try to decipher his own epitaph, he'd much rather find a witch to help him return home. Finding his way out the cemetery was easy enough, but the challenging part came to him when he opened the gates, only to be nearly blinded by bright lights. Had he found Heaven already?
It was no village, and the buildings were not your average towers either, and they were almost touching the sky! He stepped a bit closer to get a better inspection, only to jump at the sound of an alarm. It sounded like a mad goose! He wasn't sure what he was looking at, but he did see a young man emerge, extending his arm and shouting, "Watch where you're going, dipshit! I almost ran you over!" "Sorry!" He called back before stepping aside, jumping back again as the man entered his odd-looking carriage and sped off. Why, it was gone within the blink of an eye! What was that thing anyhow? No matter, he started hearing more of those odd honking noises and started running. He wasn't sure where he was going, but it was a lot better than being, quote on quote, "run over". Tim had never been so frightened in his life, the vulnerability he felt as a child flooded his mind within an instant. He eventually made it to an area where other villagers were walking, none of those weird carriages here! As soon as he began walking with the crowd, he couldn't help but feel all eyes were on him, sure enough they were. People, especially women, glanced at him with concern. Some passersby would say, "Whoa, you look like you've been through hell and back" or ask, "Geez, who'd you piss off?" Tim wasn't sure how to answer to these people, their method of speaking, dress, and odd devices made him wonder if he'd ever blend in properly. Probably not, but he should at least try.
Tim spotted a group of men sitting near an old building, laughing like a pack of old friends. He cleared his throat, "Excuse me, gentlemen…I require your assistance, you see, I got lost and I can't seem to find the Pumpkin Gorge anywhere. I was hoping that maybe you'd give me directions." The men stared at him as if he had grown a third eye, most likely from his current appearance. Still, one man kept composure, "Sure, buddy. It's uh, pretty far from here though." Another stood up, "What's with the costume? This ain't a renaissance festival." "It's a long story…" Tim sighed, "Now can you please help me?" "Sure, we'll help you…" the man reached into his pockets and pulled out a pocketknife, the other men surrounding the archer, "Right after we receive payment, our services ain't free."
Tim frowned, "I'm terribly sorry, but I don't have any money." He was not about to be intimidated by a small little dagger, his crossbow was ten times more frightening than the average broad sword! Shame he had to intimidate these posers. As soon as one of the men realized he will not comply, he swung at him, only to miss. Evading the attack was easy enough; he just hoped getting a direct hit on the enemy would be much easier. Tim took a deep breath before grabbing at one of the men, and with an iron grip he lifted him up and threw him onto the ground. He blocked another attack with his arm before kicking another man down, the man with the knife charged at him and managed to slash at his side, but it didn't stop him. Tim grabbed his wrist and twisted it until the man dropped the knife, screaming in agony. The archer backhanded the offender, sending him towards to concrete ground, the impact rendered him unconscious. There was one left, Tim was about to begin his next attack when the last man dropped to his knees, "Wait! I-I'll tell you how to get there, just don't hurt me!"
"Fair enough, disclose the location of Pumpkin Gorge, if you can."
"I-I can get you a cab, the drivers know where everything is…!"
"So you don't know where it is exactly."
"No, I don't! I've only been living here for a week, have mercy!"
"Worry not, I'll spare you. But promise me you'll do better than stealing from others."
"You're shitting me, right?"
"Then I suppose you'd like to join your friends in the pile." Tim cracked his knuckles and stepped closer, the man then shouting, "No, no, no! That won't be necessary, I'll pay for your ride and I'll stop mugging people, I promise!" "That's all I need to hear." Tim folded his arms. The cab pulled up fifteen minutes later, the man reached into his wallet and pulled out some money, handing it to the driver. He opened the door for the archer and he stepped inside, "Thank you for being so kind." Tim reached into his pockets, "Here, you deserve this." He pulled out a gold coin and handed it to the man, "Use it wisely." The window rolled up as the cab began to drive away, leaving the man completely dumbfounded.
It was near impossible to stay awake, the ride from wherever he was to the Pumpkin Gorge was long and tedious, but he had to be awake when he had to get off. Tim's eyelids grew heavier, they were about to close when the cab came to a screeching halt. Tim looked out the window, there were pumpkins scattered everywhere as well as steep hills and moss. "Thank you, sir." He stepped out, cringing from the sound of the tires screeching. He started making his way towards the Witch's camp; hopefully she'd be kind enough to answer. Upon reaching her cottage, Tim gently rapped upon her wooden door. From inside, he heard a grouchy, tired voice yawn out, "Yes, I can hear you. I swear, if you're another one of those Mellowmede Witnesses I'm going to make you fall in love with the Bubonic Plague…" the door creaked open, "Tours are not open until 8:30 am, please-" Amber eyes met with azure blue ones, for a moment she forgot how to breathe. "Canny Tim…?" she managed to say, "Is that you?" "It's been a long time, Gavina." Tim managed to smile.
The Pumpkin Witch let the archer in, tending to his wounds as best she could, bring him clothes, and of course giving him a bath. Tim had just finished telling her his story; Gavina shook her head, "It's unfortunate, I'm sorry you had to endure all that." "I've so many questions, but I doubt you'd hold all the answers," Tim reassured her, "But while I'm here, if I may ask, do you know a way to the Hall of Heroes?"
"If passage to the Hall of Heroes is what you want, then I've got bad news for you."
"What do you mean?"
"I'm a witch, a pumpkin witch no less, I can only do plant based spells."
"Surely there's a way! What of the fair folk? They bore power that could grant anyone passage!"
"I'm sorry, Timothy, but that's all I could do, and Gallowmere hasn't seen any fairies for hundreds of years. My sister wouldn't be of much help either, poor soul…lost her damn mind when part of the forest along with her home was torn down. Banks do not take kindly to hermits."
"My condolences to your sister, may she receive the help she needs."
Gavina smiled, "Thank you, you know you're welcome to stay the night, if you'd like." She went over to a chest and retrieved a few blankets, "Here, to ensure that you don't get cold. I really should to get back to bed; I've got an entire gorge to attend to at dawn you know, plus I do tours now." "Thank you for your kindness, Gavina." He yawned before lying down on the sofa, pulling the covers over him and drifting off to sleep.
The following morning, Nebby woke up to have breakfast at the lobby, content that the pain from last night had finally passed. That's it, no more Chinese takeout without a proper Google search. She yawned, stretched, and scratched her back as she entered the bathroom. Seemed as though she was slightly hungover, as she felt slight disorientation and even a migraine. "Fucking shit, am I glad I didn't drive…" She mumbled as she reached for her bathrobe, but stopped when she saw her arm extended towards the towel rack. "What the fuck…?" Her eyes widened slightly at the sight; her arm had become green, perhaps it was the lighting? No, the lightbulbs were pure white, not green. Nebby felt that twinge of panic, but kept her composure. There was no need to start screaming in a hotel room, cops and other specialty forces usually create heavy traffic, and there was no need to ruin anyone's morning.
Tim's morning wasn't as bad as the others, but was lacking the anticipation he had hoped for. He was hoping this would all be an awful dream, and that he'd be there in his own room. But alas, that wasn't how the story goes. Instead, he was with Gavina searching the streets for a sorcerer capable of bringing him back home. Up until a few hours ago their search had been less than fruitful, as most of the time they'd be met with awkward glances or one-off conversations. That was until Gavina stopped in front of a hotel, Tim glanced at her with concern, "Gavina, are you alright?" To which she shook her head, "I sense a familiar presence, dark magic methinks." If it's magic, then it's definitely worth investigating, hopefully it'd give him some sort of clue. Entering the establishment, Tim was taken aback by the spread of food along with a large frame with moving pictures- people trapped inside? Gavina was right, this was dark magic! Meanwhile, the lady at the front desk handed Gavina a key and directions to a room. Once done, Gavina regrouped with Tim, "Room 513, she said a woman came by asking about skin treatments, and gave a weird look when the topic of green skin came up." She pressed the elevator button, the doors opened, but Tim refused to enter. Gavina, however, wasn't having it. "Come on then, it's not going to hurt you." She motioned for him to join her, to which he did, although hesitant at first.
At least he located the bars, as he immediately grabbed onto those; tighter once it began to move.
The elevator led them to the 5th floor, and then room 513. She pressed her hear against the door to listen closely. She heard a female voice grunt, "Fucking spell book must've been legit or I took hallucinogenic drugs last night…" which prompted Gavina to use her key to enter the room.
Nebby perked up at the door clicking open, What the fuck? I put up a "Do not Disturb" sign for a reason! Of course, this wasn't house-keeping. She quickly hid in the bathroom, just as the door opened. Keeping her eyes and ears open was crucial should this be a robbery, and finding a weapon was a must, which may be a problem as she normally kept her guns at home. Although, she did have her own guns in the form of fists.
As they searched the room, Tim often got a hit of lightheadedness, something wicked must be here. "Found anything?" Gavina whispered. "I'm about to." He hinted at as he pulled open drawers, first one held two books, one of them being a now burnt up bible and then the other, "Oh my gosh…" He gasped. "What is it?" She turned, only to see Tim holding a spell book in his hands, and this was one she'd hoped to never see again. Before anything else could be said, the voice she'd heard before had piped up, "Who are you?"
Gavina turned once more, now face-to-face with a taller woman- no taller than 5'3, her long brown hair frazzled and her outfit baggy, and her skin…green. She retorted, "Who are you?" "I asked you first." Nebby growled. "I asked you second!" Gavina frowned. "Why are you in my room, and are you fucking stealing?" Nebby pointed to Tim. He wore her silver eyes pierced through his soul, "We…um…" he struggled to find an excuse. "You have five seconds to put it back and fuck off." Nebby threatened. Tim looked between her and the book, "Or what?" Wrong answer. Tim felt that punch rearrange his insides, dropping the book and then he himself dropping onto the floor to writhe in pain. Nebby picked it up, "That. That's what happens."
Gavina gasped, and frantically glanced around the room for plants, anything to restrain her. Immediately her eyes fell upon a potted plant sitting by the windowsill, and as Nebby turned to attack her next, the Pumpkin Witch raised her hand to manipulate the plant; with it growing vines at a rapid rate, then coiling around Nebby's wrists to hold her back. "What!" She gasped, tugging on the vines to try and free herself, while simultaneously trying to comprehend what was happening. Tim groaned and slowly got up, he hadn't experienced a punch like that in centuries!
"Before you go on a rampage, let me explain, you are in possession of a highly dangerous artifact, and Hecate forbid that the owner comes looking for it…!" Gavina began, Tim in the meantime recoiled in horror, "Oh no, we can't have him coming after us!"
"What the fuck are you talking about?"
"Who do you mean? Zarok, of course! This is his spell book!"
"How was I supposed to know it belonged to someone, I found it in an alley."
"Spell books don't magically appear in alleys!"
"Then that defeats the purpose of it being a spell book." Nebby deadpans. Gavina simply glared at her, "Regardless, you shouldn't have it, that…whatever you did, you're lucky the magic only corrupted you." "I'm sorry, but corruption?" Tim repeated. Now, he didn't know much about magic, but something as powerful as Zarok's spell book would've done more damage. And based on Dan's stories alone, he suspected the results to be devastating. "Hold on now, I do remember a resurrection spell from last night, is that the evidence you're looking for?" Nebby raised a brow. Now it made sense; Tim stared at her wide-eyed, "Then…it's you. You were the one that brought me back!"
Nebby blinked, "What?" Gavina's jaw dropped, "Impossible, a spell like that could kill an inexperienced mortal!" "Well, I did drink heavily that night and took pain relievers, was that supposed to kill me?" Nebby droned. "The bone-breaking contortion and the overwhelming amount of energy surging through your body should've, unless you bear some magical influence…" the Pumpkin Witch edged closer to Nebby, who leaned back, "I just found out that magic was real not even two fucking minutes ago, if I knew way beforehand, I would know better. Do you know how to fix this at least?"
"I'm afraid not," Gavina sighed, "I only do plant-based magic, black magic is beyond my capabilities." "So, what you're saying is this is permanent and I'm fucked." Nebby articulated. "Pretty much, though lucky you, no other mortal can see it!" The witch tried to ease her tension. If she weren't restrained right now, Nebby's fist would be colliding with a wall by now. Gavina stepped back, "The best thing you can do is get as far away from Gallowmere as possible!"
"Well how the fuck am I going to leave for the airport if I'm being held back by Little Shop of Horrors here?" Nebby asserted, once again tugging at the binds.
The witch rolled her eyes and released her, "Fair point." "We're letting her go?" Tim sputtered. Gavina thought for a moment, whoever this woman was, she couldn't be trusted right away. Letting her go alone would be a mistake, "No, not alone at least."
"Tim, you're going with her, no exceptions." Gavina instructed. "What? Oh no, I've already paid for my ticket, I'm not smuggling anyone into another country," Nebby glared, "Is he even from here?" "Well, I am from the 13th century, so-" Tim was interrupted by the witch, "I got it, and I'll do something about your flight, where are you going?" And from her pockets, she pulled out a passport, along with some ID and other various documents. Hammer space, perhaps? "Buffalo, New York. And you seriously carry that around?" Nebby teased. "Just go." Gavina urged. Fine by her, Nebby gathered her belongings, not even bothering to organize, just shove it in and go on her way. Tim stood awkwardly as she left the room, but Gavina snapping her fingers snapped him back to reality. "You have to go too, you know, she might have your answers." She reminded him. That seemed to be enough motivation for him, as Tim nodded, grabbed the papers, and then followed.
As they walked towards the elevators, Nebby glanced up at Tim, "So, my first zombie, huh?" "I wouldn't use the term so lightly." He objected.
"Alright, then what are you?"
"A hero of Gallowmere."
"I meant your species."
"Oh…human, of course."
"Well you definitely act like one, it's Tim, right?"
"Yes, but friends call me Canny Tim. And, what're your name?"
"Nebula Maria Donk, but just call me Nebby."