POV Hero of Bower Lake
One Month earlier…
Theresa looked at me, well when I mean "looked" I mean in the creepy dead eyed stare that she had given me my whole life. The blind seeress seemed to know way too much, all of the time. Right now, we were walking around the perimeter of the gypsy camp I had been calling my home, after being rescued from the streets of Bowerstone Old Town. Since that fateful day, I have been training to save the people of Albion from the man who murdered my sister. Theresa had led me the whole way, and told me stories about the last great hero, the Hero of Oakvale. I remember lapping up those stories and pretending that I was that great hero. I could see myself running through the grass waving a sword until Theresa scolded me, telling me that I should practise properly. Every time she scolded me, I could almost see something past her dead eyed stare; a sort of sad fondness, as if a fond memory was just within reach. This glimmer never lasted long, however.
This time when Theresa suddenly stopped her current archaic ramble of a lecture to give me her version of a death stare, I found myself being intimidated more than usual. It was pretty scary, due to the fact it was given from glowing eyes that always peeked from the hood. However, this time there was an extra force behind the stare, almost a desperation; as if what she was saying was more important then the usual "do this or the world dies" lectures. I sighed; she could always tell when I wasn't listening.
"Just because you are destined to be a hero, does not put your needs above others Sparrow." Theresa scolded.
I hung my head in silence, guilt building in my chest. There was nothing I could do or say to change the fact that not only was I not paying attention, but that Theresa had a point. Being a Hero does not entitle you to riches, glory or even love. Being a Hero, Theresa taught me, is about serving others. If I was not careful, I would end up like the last great Hero, of whom Theresa had known very well; he had been her brother. He had ended up putting himself before others and bringing a terrible curse on his home. I knew everything Theresa was saying, and I understood why she was warning me. It was times like this I missed my big sister, someone I could speak to without being reprimanded for having any personal thoughts. I wonder if Theresa's gaze could truly see what was going on inside my mind.
"I am sorry Theresa, I am tired after my last quest. I know I must heed your advice." My head was still hung low as I wiped my brow in a mixture of guilt and exhaustion.
This seemed to placate her, as I felt her gaze soften, "I know you are trying Sparrow, but you need to properly listen to what I am saying."
We carried on our walk, as she told me about various tasks that people needed completing. I had just come from helping out the archaeologist again. I never mind helping her, but I always end up running into trouble and ending up exhausted. My arm currently had a bandage across it that was smeared with my blood, as potions only do so much. Theresa explained that we didn't have the support of the third hero yet, as he only wanted to work with someone who had more prestige with the populous. This had led Theresa to listen to any rumours considering work to be done. As she listed all the possibilities, one of them stuck out to me more than the others. Apparently, the grave keeper in Bowerstone required assistance, and I was worried that the brothers reading of the Necromancer's book had caused more hollow men to appear. If they started in the graveyard in force, the Bowerstone guard would start to have problems. My attention was fully snapped to her words.
"I will set out immediately to the graveyard and see what is occurring." I told Theresa, "The hollow men may be coming back, and I would hate for there to be another Wraithmarsh situation."
Theresa nodded, and I left her alone on the path as I headed back to my caravan. I had only spent half an hour on the bed before Theresa had awoken me to explain how I was going to impress Reaver enough for us to complete our mission. Although I was exhausted, the possibility of an undead horde rampaging through Bowerstone was enough to keep me on my feet. After picking up my weapons and slinging on my jacket, I walked over to the coach that had brought me to the camp. I smiled at Jacquen, the driver, and asked him if he could bring me to Bowerstone as fast as possible. He nodded, and we set off with me napping in the carriage.
I did not sleep well in the bumpy carriage, and the cemetery was brighter than I remembered it. The sunlight was making the cemetery house glow, which was highly unusual if the graveyard was plagued with hollow men. My eyes stung to look at it, so instead I focused my attention on the rosebushes edging the path. I clambered up the last few stairs to the house, using my magic to see if I could sense anything wrong. Nothing seemed out of place yet, so I banged on the door three times.
"I'm not in" a male voice replied, then the looking panel opened for the man to continue "Well I'm in but I'm busy. Doing absolutely nothing abnormal."
I knocked again. I could not think of any words to say that would help this situation at this point.
"Still there? Go away!" the voice sounded shrill and timid, "Unless… Yeah! How would you like to assist in this century's most important scientific experiment? Very, very important stuff. All you have to do is collect a few precious bits of corpse."
This took me back a bit, as I was expecting some sort of panicked grave keeper terrified of hollow men. Or a horde of hollow men. Or just… something. But this whole cemetery was quiet and peaceful, with the sunlight giving it a warm glow. Like this, the cemetery looked like an idyllic picnic spot with the small stream looking crystal clear at the side. I looked around me again, just to check that there were no hollow men around the near cemetery.
"What I meant to say is, some totally above-board and non-creepy gathering of various anatomical specimens."
"I have only one question for you, kind sir."
"And… what would that be? This is purely for science I assure you… non-creepy gatherings…" He started to trail off and mumble a bit. I was taught to never cut anyone off who was asking for help unless there was good reason, so I stood silently for a while until his mumblings became incoherent enough to warrant the furthering of the conversation.
"You aren't creating or experimenting on Hollow men, are you?" I asked carefully and politely.
His eyes widened, "Oh lord no! I hate those things!" His tone seemed very taken aback, as if this had not crossed his mind at all, but he was now worried that he would be deemed in league with the hollow men.
I gave a small smile, "Then I have no problems in aiding you in your scientific experiment."
"Oh, good, good." he paused for a beat, "Your first, um… scientific expedition is to Rookridge. There should be a fine body part hidden away in a cave there. Good luck!"
With that, he closed the slider on the door, and I walked away through the cemetery. I was wondering about where this would be, as Rookridge would surely have a surplus of caves one may hide a body part; this alone seemed impossible due to the fact that any cave in Rookridge would surely have a multitude of bodies. I solemnly walked towards where the carriage had waited, at the edge of Bowerstone. I was still drained from the past adventure, and now rushing off to a fool's errand.
I just wanted to know what was going on.
The Hobbe Cave had been rank. Killing Hobbes was easy, however, living through their stench was not. Luckily, my faithful dog seemed to know where he was going and lead us past several rooms containing mutilated corpses. I don't know how he did it through the other stenches, however, I was grateful to not be needing to dig up every single mangled corpse in the cave. I couldn't stop thinking about the note attached to the bit of corpse my dog led me to, which made me believe that I had found the right body part. The grave keeper was very vague and unspecific about certain key facts such as: which cave, what body part, how old was it and more importantly, why travel all the way to Rookridge for a body part (not even a whole body) when he is surrounded by bodies. By me being in possession of the body part gave me all the leverage I needed to get him to tell me what was going on; I didn't want to aid in any necromancy that would damage any innocents. This note gave me pause, more so then my only interaction with the grave keeper.
"On this spot, the Witchspotters of Albion did bury the lower limbs of one Lady Grey, formerly Mayor of Bowerstone, and certified enchantress and seductress. We lost two of our members to surprise Hobbe attacks as we explored the deepest corridors of this cave. The names of these brave men we shall remember always. Just as soon as we've waited to wash off the Hobbe dung under which we buried a piece of the foul witch. Never shall she rise again."
This time as I walked up the steps of the mansion, I could see that the door was wide open. This immediately set me on edge, and I took my pistol out of its holster. This gun had served me well through a variety of fights and was always my go to weapon. I crept slowly and silently through the house, my eyes scanning every shadow. I dropped the body part by the entrance door and closed the door slowly. It shut with a quiet click. I then started to hear the sound of pages being flicked vigorously upstairs, so I followed the noise slowly. I then started to hear the grave keepers voice, humming a tune. I forced myself to relax and put the gun away. Quickly regaining a normal composure, I walked loudly towards the door his humming was emanating from, before leaning against the doorframe and knocking the open door.
"I think you and I need to have a little chat about your scientific experimentation."
He jumped and turned around, however, there was no fear in his eyes. He looked hopeful, excited and… what I thought was lovestruck. I kept my composure, blocking the doorway casually. I briefly glanced around the room, uncomfortable in that gaze and noticed the piles of books, scrolls and pictures that adorned the room. It looked like a scholar's office and seemed out of place with the rest of the house. All of it fit in with was the grave keepers' story that he was working on science, however, the note was rather contradictory.
"Where is it? Did you find it? I'm sorry the instructions were so vague… I just had to… I just didn't know…"
I felt like Theresa would scold me for this later, but I cut him off "Yes I did find what you were looking for. However, I am going to need some answers about this whole experiment if I am going to allow you to continue, and if you ever want that body part."
He nodded "I understand, you have many people to protect. But… is it… here?"
He looked hopeful, if a bit bashful. I nodded before lazily motioning my arm in the direction of the stairs. He looked at me questioningly and waited for me to nod again before setting down the book in his hands and walking slowly past me. I followed after him, matching his pace. When he reached the top of the stairs, he looked down to see the parcel. He gasped and ran down the stairs faster than I thought he could move. He was down on his knees in an instant, cutting the dirty ropes and managing to fling the rest of the mud that covered the parcel seemingly everywhere in a mad rush to open it. When the parcel was fully open, exposing the rather disgusting mummified legs, he sat back on his haunches and gave a small happy laugh.
"Oh, it's her! It's really her!" he turned around to look at me, "I might as well tell you the truth now. I'm not advancing the cause of science, you see. I'm… I'm advancing the cause of love. This…" he looked longingly at the open parcel containing mummified legs lying on the floor of the mansion's porch, "this is Lady Grey. Well, a bit of her anyway. She lived a long time ago – an awful, barbaric time – and she was the mayor of Bowerstone."
This fit with the story on the note I still held in my pocket, however, I was going to let him finish his spiel before I interjected. I liked to see how stories line up before calling out inconsistencies. I was hoping that his explanation was make me understand the note, especially the line "Never may she rise again." He stood up, after giving the body part another longing glance. He looked at me square on before continuing.
"Some people…well, they didn't like her very much. Couldn't see what a wonderful person she really was. They called her a witch and… well, they chopped off her head. Then they buried her body in three different places. But let's not waste time on such awful tales."
With that, the stories lined up, well somewhat. I handed him the note that came with the body part, and I heard him mutter in disgust. He explained to me that they had it wrong, which lead to this barbaric treatment. I felt sorry for the man. He had turned around to put the note on the cabinet next to the lower body.
"What can I do to help, grave keeper?" I asked gently.
"Victor" he replied.
"Pardon?" I responded, with a tone of confusion.
He turned and smiled wistfully, "My name is Victor, although I feel as though no one remembers I have a name anymore. I inherited my lot in life when I inherited this damned title."
"Alright Victor. What can I do to assist you in your quest of love?"