Nine: The Hero of Strength

Most of the farming community of Oakfield were hard working, salt of the earth types and were sparsely available for questioning until the ground was tilled, animals fed and the cows wandered home.

Not that Sparrow was in a terrible rush to leave the beautiful and picturesque town; it was peaceful in ways she hasn't felt since she left the safety of the Gypsy camp.

Theresa's admonition's still rung in Sparrow's ears. The blessing must go forward if you are to find the Pilgrim. You must gain the Abbot's favor; perhaps you can find something at the Sandgoose Tavern…

Nursing a tankard of ale she let conversation wash over her. The tavern was a cozy gathering place of everybody within town and the arrival of an adventurer, however green in the ways of adventuring, was cause for excitement. Some suggestions were directed at her; good-willed proposals about local trouble and others were general reports about the surrounding area of Oakfield.

"- me trousers went missing the other day! Me old lady swore up and down they was on the line drying and poof! gone! Who wants to steal an old pair o' trousers-"

"-hear more people have been kidnapped? What is this country coming to, people taken off the street and sold-"

"Oh dear, oh dear, how could this happen? Right after I bought the deeds too!"

"-horrible phosphorous horrors, moaning all the time right next to the lookout point. Puts a man off his-"

"-listening, Sparrow? Tilling ain't such a bad job, I'll offer a good rate; big strong girl like you-"

But Sparrow's eye had caught something surprising in the well lit tavern; a familiar morose figure draped over a wooden table. A stab of memory struck her; a bright winter day when a funny little man asked two children to pose for a new fangled invention.

She found herself nervous as she approached him. Barnum hadn't changed much in the years that had intervened; the eyes remained an amiable chocolate brown set in a drooping face that bore a few more wrinkles. As she stood before him he raised his face and looked at Sparrow in astonishment.

"Well, I'll be! My young friend who so kindly helped me all those years ago! My, it's been quite some time, look how you've grown."

Sparrow felt a smile tug at her face as Barnum clasped her hands with his and gave her a genuine grin of good will.

"You seem a bit put out, Mr. Barnum. Can I help you with anything?"

His cheeks reddened in embarrassment.

"Oh, now, it's just old Barnum, young Sparrow. I've never been a Mister in my life. Weeell, after you and your sister so kindly helped me out the Image Transferencetional Box took off! Lots of business on that end. Done so well I thought maybe it was time to stretch out me entrepreneurial wings and buy some property. I went and bought the Rookridge Bridge only to have it deliberately sabotaged by those nasty bandits! Fellow by the name of Dash been bringing together whole bands of em'.
The cost of rebuilding it is more than I own! And right after it gets built it would get torn down again by those criminals. Bad news all around and I'm not rightly certain what I am to do!"

Sparrow clasped a hand on his bony shoulder.

"I think I may be able to help you. I've been meaning to pay them a little visit anyhow."

Barnum gazed in astonishment as Sparrow calmly buckled her gear and made ready to leave.

"So you'll get rid of the bandits in Rookridge!?"

"Just do me a favor and tell everyone how impressive I am." she replied with a grin.

Barnum's face lit up and he clapped his hands in delight.

"I knew I could count on you, old friend! Safe journey then, I'll be waiting for you right here for the good news. Show them bandits a thing a two!"


The rain rustled vegetation and masked the sound of Sparrow and Calvin's progress through worn pathways and through abandoned logging camps. The signs of Albion's progress littered the landscape; through the wet and lush hillsides of Rookridge lay railways and mined hillsides. This, in fact, made excellent cover as she had already surprised and quickly overwhelmed two groups of the bandit's belonging to Dash. The scraggly leader now stood two hundred yards away, perched on top of a massive rock screaming at the top of his lungs,

"You think you can catch me!? Why d'you think they call me Dash, stupid!? Not even them's stupid guards can catch me, I'll be gone before you can get within ten feet of me! Stupid, STUUUPID, STUUUU-"

Sparrow lowered the smoking barrel of the rifle and sighed.

"I don't have to get within ten feet of you to catch you, stupid man."

The following days after the defeat of the gang of bandits under Dash was one spent tied up in addressing the local guard that the criminal activity in Rookridge had been dealt with. In gratitude for her help the sheriff of Rookridge, an overworked man with bags underneath his eyes, solemnly handed her a pair of goggles that Sparrow recognized as the ones Dash had worn around his neck. Negotiations towards the bounty on Dash's head were made and the next three days were spent finding her way to the next pursuit in proving herself worthy in the eyes of the Abbot.

Sparrow found Barnum in nearly the same place she had last seen him. Upon entering the Sandgoose the various patrons, now familiar faces, raised their glasses and let out a shout of merriment. Congratulations and good natured thumps on the back were handed out as she made her way to her grinning friend.

The infectious goodwill of the townsfolk made it hard to keep a smile off her own and she couldn't resist reaching into her pack and pulling out an object.
With a small flair of theatrics she thrust the pair of goggles in the air and grinned as the crowd erupted in cheers followed by demands for a full scale celebration for their Hero.

Sparrow found her way to Barnum and shook the outstretched hand.

"Marvelous! Just marvelous! As it turns out those deeds were in fact counterfeited so I don't owe a thing! The rebuilding of the Rookridge Bridge is already being undertaken by the Rookridge Social Commerce and now with those bandits gone traders will put Oakfield back on their route! Things are looking up, my friend, things are looking up."

"Good to hear, Barnum." Sparrow replied, with a genuine grin on her face.

One of the happy revelers leaned over and tapped Sparrow on the shoulder.

"Sparrow, the Abbot's been asking for you."

Disengaging her hand from Barnum, Sparrow stood up and asked,

"So what will you do now, Barnum?"

Barnum's amiable face creased as he smiled.

"Not to worry, young Sparrow, I've ideas aplenty! We will be seeing each other again, have no doubt. I expect I'll be seeing you again when you're a famous adventurer! Take care, my young friend."

"You too, Barnum. C'mon Collin, let's move it."

It took a few moments to disengage herself from her increasingly large group of friends but Sparrow flew to the Temple and wasn't entirely surprised to see the beaming face of the Abbot as he stood waiting for her.

"Ahh, the young Hero returns! I've heard about the things you've done. Most impressive, most impressive! I heard what you did in Rookridge. I think you may be of great use to us after all."

The Abbot gently took Sparrow by the arm and walked her down the path of the Temple.

"Now, you have heard of the Golden Oak?"

"The land and surrounding farms of Oakfield owes its fertility to the Golden Oak."

"That's correct. Now, the nourishing of the Golden Acorn is done from the Wellspring of Light but the spring is located inside a nearby cave that is said to be dangerous. The sacred text dictates that two monks must enter; the strongest and one of the Abbots's choosing. "

"Of course this concerns me because the strongest monk here is my own child, so instead of a second monk I have chosen to send a protector for the first and that's where you come in."

Sparrow bent her head.

"I'm honored, Father."

He waved his hands and pointed down the path that was shadowed by the setting sun.

"The cave is just at the end of this road, you probably passed it on the way here. Our strongest monk will be waiting for you. I will pray for the safe return of you both. Farewell."

Sparrow nodded her head and breathed a sigh of relief to be back on track to her goal.

Our first Hero awaits us, even if they do not yet realize it. Theresa's voice whispered in the back of her mind. Sparrow made a murmur of agreement and began to trot down the path.

The lowering sun was casting golden rays over the towering oak trees and lush undergrowth; the dying light cast inky shadows in the landscape. Sparrow and Dog followed a stone wall, weathered and broken in places. Over the sound of her own footsteps came the distant hum of someone singing. She followed it.
Her footsteps slowed as she listened; it was low and sweet but an untrained voice, the sound of someone singing to amuse themselves rather than trying to impress. Sparrow stepped between a gap in the stone and caught her first glimpse of the Hero of Strength.

In the dying twilight a figure sat on top of the weathered ruins of a stone structure, weak light caught long reddish brown hair tied back securely with a scarf. One foot swung idly as the reclining figure continued to sing softly, pausing to take a draught of whatever liquid reside in the bottle in her hand. Below her feet lay a gigantic amphora, leaning against the stonework.
The face that looked towards Sparrow was a surprisingly young one; this young woman could not have been much older than Sparrow herself. Bright sharp eyes surveyed her and the round young face split into a benevolent smile.
The young woman swung herself around and jumped down. Sparrow looked up, then continued to look up; the Hero of Strength was easily two heads taller than herself.

"I knew my lovely singing voice would bring crowds! So you're my escort then? My father said you'd be coming by."

Sparrow caught herself gaping and cleared her throat in embarrassment.

"I'm Sparrow."

Collin couldn't contain his excitement in meeting someone new in any longer. He barked joyfully and wriggled his way towards the young lady.

She didn't seem put out at all as she leaned over and petted him. "Hey, boy! Hello! What's his name then?"

"Erm. Collin."

The young woman looked up with mocking amusement.

"Not much for creativity, are you?"

Ignoring Sparrow's scowl she leaned back over and scratched Collin's head.

"I feel better having you with me, yes I will!"

She straightened and looked at Sparrow.

"I'm Sister Hannah. Some people call me Hammer when they think they're being clever. They're not."

The flat look she gave Sparrow made certain that she knew teasing the impressively built young woman would possibly be a bad idea.

"-but I can't do much about it because monks make a solemn vow never to bash anyone's face in."

"What?"

She nodded at Sparrow's look of surprise.

"Did my father mention that? Yeah, whatever fighting's to be done in there, its all yours."

We require a Hero, not a pacifist monk. We'll need her to find a reason to fight. came Theresa's shadowy voice, sounding as though she was speaking to herself. Something about the phrase made Sparrow's back prickle uneasily.

Hannah was looking at Sparrow intently, eyes lingering on the well worn weapons across her back, tattered but serviceable and hard-wearing clothing and healing marks on her face and forearms.

"I don't mind telling you I'm a bit envious."

"What on earth for?" exclaimed Sparrow. "You dream of sleeping on rocks and being bitten by horrible creatures?"

Hannah shrugged her massive shoulders.

"I know it's not a glamorous life but me, I always kind of dreamed of what it was like wandering the open roads, kicking the stuffing out of bad guys. Instead, I get to carry this bloody thing like some sort of mule!"

She gestured towards the enormous piece of pottery then bent to heave it onto her back.

I guess that's why one of the monk's needs to be the 'strongest'. I don't think I could lift that without putting my back out. thought Sparrow.

Hannah continued in a jovial tone, "I mean, look at it! It's enormous! Golden or not how much water does a bloody acorn need!"

Sparrow didn't have a reply but instead walked resolutely towards the yawning darkness of the cave behind the stonework Hannah had been resting on.

Her companion snorted.

"Not much for conversation, are you? Well, on we get then."

Sparrow, in the lead, stepped into the dark tunnel of the entrance, Hannah with her burden behind her and Collin bringing up the rear.

I do love how much time I'm spending in dark, dank places since becoming a Hero…

The Wellspring Cavern was unlike any other underground cave Sparrow had been in, thus far.

The long-abandoned Heroes Guild had felt desolate and the weight of time had pressed on her like a physical presence. The abandoned mine where the Hobbes had almost made a meal out of her and Collin stank of the creatures but had reverberated with sound and life.

Here it was obvious that the space within had been maintained over the years, even if sporadically. Heavy metal torches were bolted to the walls and were lit at intervals with self-sustaining everlit wood; such fuel would only need to be replaced every fifty years or so. Only the wealthy could afford such expensive material, obviously the Temple of Light had deep pockets as well as influence and power in the southern lands of Albion.

"It's amazing when you think about it" Hannah's voice echoed in the tight space "nobody else has been down here for a long time….well no monks, anyway. I guess an adventurer or two could have come in but if they got out I didn't hear about it."

Sparrow didn't bother to reply, not really knowing the finer art of small conversation and instinct was setting her muscles on edge; there was something about the space that reminded her of a graveyard. Still and silent but a feeling of something watching, waiting.

The tunnels continued to lead on and opened up into a widely spaced cavern. The walls were honeycombed with holes; through the low light Sparrow could see that these were in fact, catacombs – home to hundreds of bodies long since gone to bone and dust.

The wide path that bore them down into the earth even had bits of bones scattered in the dirt. That would explain the feeling then, of walking on someone's grave.

Sparrow gazed up in astonishment; floating along the ceiling of the cavern were bright balls of light weaving erratic patterns, lighting up the entire room with a soft ethereal glow.

"Look up there!" exclaimed Hannah.

"Those are…"

"I think they're called wisps; souls of the dead that never left this world. They're lovely!"

Sparrow closed her jaw and gave a sidelong glance to her enthusiastic companion. Danger was humming in the back of her mind and it made her itch to have the solid reassuring weight of her sword in her hand.

"Don't get close to them, Sister Hannah."

Hannah shot Sparrow a look of surprise.

"What- those little balls of light can hurt us? Come on, pull the other one! Actually it's rather sad if you think about it. Anyway, the central chamber should be just ahead."

Some further ways down was indeed another chamber. Here, the hand of man was made obvious; carved statues of various religious figures guarded three entrances. The entrances themselves had a heavy barred gate blocking each one. A curious and complex pulley system had weights and chains attached to the gates, connected to three large metal plates built into the stonework on the ground.

"All right, this should be the central chamber. Wow, I've never seen anything like this, ever! Now, according to my father we need to go through these three doors in order to collect the water. Putting weight on the pressure plate will open the doors."

Sparrow stood and watched Hannah position herself over the nearest plate in stunned silence. The constant verbal barrage was something she was unused to; Theresa kept communication short and to the point and she hadn't really had time for idle chatter since she left the Bowerstone Lake camp. Keeping up with Hannah's conversation and naivety to the danger around her left Sparrow feeling a little awkward and irritated.

There was a deep clunk sound as slowly, grindingly, the first gate rose.

"There we are!"

Sparrow continued down the tunnel, leading the way, sword out and ready for the danger that she felt all around them.

"You are a quiet one." Hannah said from behind.

"You said that already." Sparrow replied sourly.

"Well, it's still true." Hannah replied with humor "Silent and bold! Just like out of a tale! Is it true you freed a dozen people from slavers then stuck the bandit's head on a stick?"

"On a stick?! No! And it wasn't a dozen people, just a couple of unfortunate travelers."

"Still, I think it's perfectly heroic of you! Smiting the wicked and all that."

Sparrow felt a blush of embarrassment rise to her cheeks. She didn't have the heart to tell Hannah that the reality of a Hero's life was far different than a fairy tale. As the Hero of Strength, Hannah would find out soon enough what such a life entailed.

The path soon led into another high vaulted chamber with another couple dozen of floating wisps. Again, Sparrow felt the stirrings of unease even if the tightly rolled balls of energy presented no visible threat; Heroic instinct said to be wary.

At the bottom of the path and through another doorway lay a small chamber. Two more metal plates rested at opposite ends.

We must be near an underground river or something thought Sparrow to herself.

The floor was covered in a couple of inches of crystal clear water; above one plate water dripped from a naturally occurring stone lip carved by centuries of flowing water.

"Right, so the plates require more and more weight as we go and that means we fill it with water from each room. I stand here so I can catch it in the jug and you stand on that plate over there."

Sparrow sloshed her way to the opposite end of the room and put her weight on the plate while Hannah positioned the amphora beneath the stone lip. There was another clunk sound and water began to pour down.

"There is goes! Oh yeah, I can feel this thing getting heavier already. You know, so far this isn't too bad; a couple of steep bits but that's it. I really hope they find someone else to do this next time. Mind you, I'll be an old lady by then so I'm probably off the hook. You know, this is probably going to be the highlight of my life; 'the day I carried a jug through a cave'. Hardly epic poem stuff, is it?"

Without pausing to take a breath Hannah continued.

"Right, I reckon that's all the water we need from this one, shall we go?"

"Urgh. That is, let me go ahead of you, Sister Hannah."

The moment Sparrow set foot outside the chamber she knew something was wrong. The wavering balls of light no longer floated lightly at the top of the ceiling but were now weaving erratic and angry patterns. There was the feeling of a static charge in the air; something was coming. Collin began barking furiously and Sparrow tensed up.

Several of the wisps shot down towards the ground and disappeared. A rumbling sound came from beneath Sparrow's feet and she watched in shock as the ground crumbled and split and two skeleton arms clawed through the dirt.

In moments the ground writhed and half a dozen skeletons slowly lurched to their feet. Stories came back to Sparrow; campfire tales of the walking dead, jealous of the living- eager to drag them into death, guarding something long lost to grief and strife. They haunted hallowed grounds, resting where –

"Hannah! This place- what was this cave used for in the past?!"

"Uhhhh, for burials! They buried the dead of the Alcherian War here. Th-this is where you come in, right!?"

Sparrow was already in motion. Taking a moment to agree silently with herself that yes, this was one of the creepier denizens of Albion, she allowed instinct to move herself and listened to what it was saying about strength and weakness of these creatures. Hollow Men.
They came by the dozens, often armed with rusted and sharp weapons, weapons they had used in the days of living and as soldiers. Most of the risen bodies were that of buried warriors; they died violently, often before their time and as such still retained a tenacious link to the land of the living. Pure malevolence moved the long desiccated bodies, the sheer emotion left from an abrupt and often gruesome ending.

Her sword up swept up in a shining arc and Sparrow shattered the first skeleton in a hail of dried bone, bits of leathery flesh and deteriorated cloth. She swung around in surprise; there was nothing to it. Despite the glow coming from deep within the recesses of the empty skull and the rusted weapons they swung the body itself was nothing more than a dried husk.

A rusted sword whistled past Sparrows head and she brought up a boot and kicked the creature back. Hannah kept up a continuous stream of encouragement in the background.

"Yeah, great shot! Another hollow man bites the dust! Ohhh, that one nearly got you! To your right, your right!"

"Sister Hannah!" Sparrow bellowed, over the sounds of battle, "If you don't mind would you please shut it and let me fight!?"

The moving corpses made a strange, deep guttural sound; almost as though they were trying to speak. The blind shining sockets of the head followed wherever Sparrow went as she danced around them. With three left she got an idea. As dry and brittle as they were surely they were weak to –

A great ball of fire whipped out from her hands and did a spectacular job in destroying the remaining hollow men. The heat and impact not only shattered them but incinerated them on the spot. Sparrow turned to Hannah.

"Hurry! Before more come!"

"I think-" Hannah said breathlessly behind her "that they're protecting the water!"

As they reached the central chamber, Collin barking and dancing around them, the balls of light stopped following them.

Sparrow took a deep breath and let it out.

"I think your right."

Hannah slung the great amphora off her broad shoulder and set it down with a heavy thunk and an unrepentant grin aimed towards Sparrow.

"Well done, in there! Just think – we have two more rooms to go!"

Sparrow placed her hands on her knees, willing her pulse to calm down and tried to squelch the rising urge to throttle the monk who was a bit like an over-zealous puppy. If she wasn't careful Sister Hannah might cheerfully but accidently get herself into more trouble than she could handle.

The short fight with the brittle undead skeletons had seemed almost a little too easy; in the back of her mind, Sparrow felt as though the worst was yet to come.