Somewhere on the merrier side of Iron Town, there rested a tavern full of men basking in celebration and revelry. Drinks were guzzled one after the other, and loud shouts and violent fits of laughter filled the aromatic air of the pub. The place smelled of beer and smoke, and of the thatch and mud it had been created from, giving the place a very earthy feel to it.
The day had begun just as normally as the last, with the usual trickle of half-dead patrons shuffling inside aimlessly. One of them had an especially big complaint on his shoulders: the world was just too dull these days. Nothing exciting ever happened anymore, not like in years long since past. The bartender, a very well-traveled old man, twirled his dark mustache in his fingers and began to think of a remedy.
What he suggested soon became so wonderful that the very bar was put on the map as the pride of Iron Town. For what this keeper suggested became a longstanding tradition that was kept for many centuries into the future. He suggested that everyone in the bar tell a story, and whoever told the greatest story of them all would get free drinks in the tavern for one month, wherein after such a period, a new storytelling session would begin. At the mention of free drinks, every patron crowded around the keeper and claimed to have a story worthy of such a prize.
The old man calmed them down, and promised that he would listen to every single one of their tales, if only the men gave their names and a title or description of their story. The tender would then record and judge the stories, and a vote would be cast on who told the best. The night began with a fishing story, no surprise, and continued with tales of monsters and beasts and fantastic places. Several men told tales of their real life, and what had happened to them in their past. Others simply talked about nothing, and kept rambling until the tender ordered them to conclude.
When the night grew late and the moon grew full, a grizzly man with a scarred body and a patch over his eye snarled and put himself in the center of the stage. His voice was as rough and bearish as he was, yet every sound that came from his mouth had a hypnotic tune to it. The story he told was particularly interesting, for it involved that very town they were all living in, and a certain event that had happened so long ago, nobody could say whether it was truth or fiction. His story went something like this……
Mononoke Samurai
By Al Kristopher
Adhvanit21@aol.comPart One: The Legend of the Samurai
The story begins in times long gone by, in a land forgotten by everyone save for those who still cling proudly to the ancient legends. The name of this land is unknown to me, but I do know that it was a great and mighty empire, one that might have even given birth to the very government we all live under today. This empire was forged from a great and bloody war with a terrifying demon, and after the fighting ended, a short period of peace came to this land. But the demon of times long ago was somehow brought back to the world of lights, brought back out of his pit of hate, and was set free to destroy the land yet again.
All hope seemed lost, for there was no defense for this demon, and so he took it upon himself to conquer and enslave the people of the empire that had caused him so much strife. For many years, the people lived in misery and fear, until a brave warrior wielding a magic sword stepped forth to oppose the demon. The two of them fought a vicious battle, one which the young warrior was very close to winning. Before the final blow was struck, though, the demon threw open a portal in time, and flung the warrior into the future, where the monster's evil was the law.
I don't know what happened to the warrior after that, but legends say that he was able to return to the past, and challenged the demon once again. Because of his vast experiences in the future, the young warrior was able to completely destroy the demon, and set his people free. Slowly, the warrior's kingdom healed itself, and with a new guardian to keep such peace, it seemed like there would be few other problems. After all, the demon had been defeated for ever, and the hero of the battle was now the protector of the kingdom.
"A what? This demon, what'd you say he did to the warrior?" The old one-eyed man growled at the half-drunk men and repeated what he had already said.
"I told you, he opened a portal in time and flung the warrior into the future." The drunkards instantly broke out in violent fits of laughter, slamming their fists and kegs on the tables until they nearly shattered. A few even rolled on the floor, suffering from an onslaught of laughter.
"Yer outta yer mind!" they shouted. "What the devil's a portal in time? And sending people into the future?! That's ridiculous!!"
"I'm just telling you what I heard," grumbled the scarred man. "These are all loosely connected to the same legend, so some of what I say may be more true than others."
"Yeah right," snorted the men. "You must be even more snookered than we are if you think we're gonna believe that garbage!!" The one-eyed man growled fiercely, and was very close to getting up and leaving the bar. The tender, however, urged him to stay, and since his story was becoming interesting, even the men who were insulting him begged him to stay. The one-eyed man growled at their taunts, but decided to continue his tale. If nothing else, he could humor them with his stories.
As I was saying… The young man returned to his homeland and helped rebuild the place. Yet even as his empire was beginning to rise again, scouts and messengers from distant parts of the country came to him, terror-stricken by news of other evils out there. The young warrior listened to their pleas, and gathered what little information he could from them. He learned that there was a mad necromancer roaming around the distant western wilds, and with him were several of the madman's diabolical concoctions and demonic creations. The insane wizard was causing great peril and suffering to the people of the west, and so the warrior, having been branded a hero for defeating the evil demon, was called upon yet again.
This young man used up only one day to get prepared. He packed very few possessions, bringing his clothes and a small bag of food only--and also, the magic blade which he had used to slay the demon. He bade his empire a reluctant farewell, for this man had really just gotten back a year or two ago, and set out once again on a journey. To make a very long story short, the young man traveled a great distance across the wilderness, over the mountains, through rivers and across the plains, until he came to a certain town that seemed to be the center of the necromancer's attention.
That place was called Iron Town.
"No way!" barked the men. "You mean this very place?"
"I mean this exact spot," indicated the half-blind man. He pointed to a stool in the corner and said, "T'was that very chair, I believe, that the warrior used to rest upon when he came into this bar so long ago. T'was the very inn in the center of town which he visited, and the farms he frequented were our own, and he even paid respect to the great ruins of the ancient smelting pool and what little memories were left from a battle that took place even earlier ago." The man paused to allow the patrons to soak in what he had just said, and took that time to wet his whistle with some beer.
"…Yuh… you're not serious!" barked one of the men doubtfully. One-Eye shrugged.
"Eh. Like I said, most of these legends have been lost or scattered in the wind. It's incomplete, and what I do know is very unbelievable. But, if you don't want me to continue……"
"Please continue, sir!" begged the old bartender. "If not for anybody else, then for me! I am a descendant of one of the original inhabitants of this town, and I would like to know as much of the past as I can! Please, sir, please don't stop now!" The scarred man leaned back in his chair and finished his beer, then wiped his grizzly mouth and gave the whole room a thoughtful stare.
"Tomorrow," he said. "I'll continue my story tomorrow. It's getting late anyway, ain't it?"
"…W-well, yes, I… I suppose…"
"Sorry to leave you hangin' like that, old man," shrugged One-Eye, "but I gotta get my rest. I work all day and drink all night, so if you'll excuse me, I gotta go. If anybody wants to hear the rest of my story, come back tomorrow when the tavern opens. I'll be glad to tell anybody interested enough. Well, later." The man got up out of his chair, waved farewell to the patrons, and tossed a sheet of money to the tender. He walked out the door and back into the bustling town, but surprisingly, nobody could claim to see him around for the rest of the day. It was like he had vanished off the face of the earth…
To be continued…