These are the stories of the infamous and not so infamous people of Albion. Some are epic tales which will be told in sprawling chapters. Others are simple fireside stories which will last but a chapter or two.
I present to you…
The Woods
This is the tale of how a certain Hero got his start in Balverine Slaying…
"We cannot stop for long. The sun is setting and I hear it's a full moon tonight," Alban said softly to his traveling partner, Ben, as they both sat at the base of a large, shady tree. It had been six hours since their last break and both men were dead tired. Alban insisted they press on since they only had but an hour more traveling to go whereas Ben decided he wanted to stop for a quick bite to eat.
"We won't tarry long," said Ben as he pulled off his bulky boots revealing very wide and sweaty feet. "I just need to rest my feet for a bit and fill my stomach. We'll only be a minute."
"I hope you mean that Ben," Alban said earnestly. "If you're not ready in twenty minutes you'll be finishing this trek alone!"
Ben waved an impatient hand, "What's bothering you so much? You've been antsy ever since we entered the woods. I said I'll be quick about it so stop pestering me."
"You're telling me you don't know?" Alban said incredulously; he leaned in close and whispered, "This is Balverine country!" He stood up quickly and searched the forest with his eyes and his ears twitched as if they detected the distant cry of a hungry Balverine drawing near.
"Balverine country?" Ben repeated in a slightly nervous tone.
"I heard a little girl got mauled outside of Darkwood camp. It was just terrible. My brother's a guard in these parts and he was one of the people who found her. Blimey, he even had to tell her parents! They wanted to see her, ya know, to say goodbye, but there wasn't much to see…" Alban seemed to regret telling this story and Ben seemed to look paler than he was just a few seconds ago.
"I won't be long, okay? Stop talking about Balverines and dead girls in the mean time. Just sit down and eat with me, please," Ben muttered, the confidence he had in his voice prior to Alban's story was no longer there.
Alban sat beside Ben reluctantly, his eyes darting all around him as he did. He pulled out a meager sandwich and began to nibble on it.
"Eat. You'll be stronger for the walking," Ben encouraged Alban.
"I'm not very hungry, thanks," Alban replied, looking terribly nervous.
The two men ate their tiny meals quickly and in total silence, their ears twitching every time a bush rustled or a twig somewhere deep in the forest snapped. Strange sounds that they were convinced were made just by the wind blowing through the reeds echoed constantly in their direction creating a great sense of unease. They tried to take their minds off of things by making small talk but nothing worked. The subject always came back around to Balverines and since they were finished eating there was nothing more they wanted to do but to pack up and get back on the road.
As they begin to make their way back onto the main road a quick rustling came from the woods behind them. It sounded as if something was coming there way very slowly.
Alban and Ben looked at each other and then back to the direction the noise was coming from. Any minute now whatever was coming through the brush would soon emerge and, depending on what it was, it could either greet them hello or devour them whole…
Alban clutched Ben's hand but Ben ripped it away furiously thinking something was attacking his fingers. Suddenly, a six foot tall shape burst out of the brush and looked down at the men who leapt back in surprise.
"Still my heart!" cried the terrified man. "You two scared the heck out of me! What are you doing here standing in the middle of the road watching this here bush?" He was wearing trader's clothes that looked too big for his frame and he carried no goods.
Alban and Ben looked from the trader to each other, unable to answer.
"And what's he grabbing yer arm fer?"
Alban quickly let go of Ben's arm.
"We – we thought you might be a bandit or something…" Alban lied under his breath.
"Whatchu you think that for?" asked the trader quizzically.
"Well – I heard these parts can be pretty dangerous and – " Alban was stopped mid-sentence. Somewhere in the woods someone was screaming in terrible pain and something else – a very large animal by the sound of it - was howling in frustration.
"It was a wolf," Ben said as though he was trying to convince himself.
"No," said the trader, "Twas a Balverine that was."
All three men looked terrified.
"And it sounded like he caught himself some prey human prey," the strange trader added.
The bushes began to rustle again but this time something fast was heading their way.
"What do we do?" Alban said, visibly shaking with fear.
"I – I – I don't know!" Ben replied, looking around for some place to hide.
The bushes burst open and all three men screamed in fear.
"Silence!" said the man who exploded out from behind them. "Get off the road, quickly!"
The three men ran off the road following the new stranger and hid in a thick bush. The new stranger wielded a long katana which shone brightly in the dark confines of the bush. Alban could make out one silver and two piercing augmentations inside hilt of the sword.
"Follow me," the swordsman ordered in a hoarse whisper. He led the trio inside the large, tangled roots of a gigantic tree.
They hid within the tree for what seemed like hours; their beating hearts sounding like heavy drums.
"I suggest you all calm panicked hearts as soon as possible," the swordsman said plainly, still staring out through the roots to the man road. "If you do not, I dare say you will be separated from them some time soon."
Ben clutched his bag to his chest muffling the sound of his heart which was beating faster than ever.
The swordsman held up a hand to make sure there was absolute silence. Someone was racing up the road, panting loudly and dragging, deep ragged breaths.
"Westin!" an agonizing voice called out. "Westin, for God sakes, don't leave me!"
A Balverine call sounded out again but this time it was much, much closer.
"Westin! It's going to kill me! Please don't leave me!"
The pleading voice sounded like it came from an extremely young man. The young man finally stopped running and stood panting in the middle of the road. He continued to beg for help and to call for this man named Westin when suddenly he let out an awful cry of surprise and pain.
Alban turned over and looked through a tiny space beneath the roots and saw the teenager being ravaged by a large, white Balverine.
The creature had the poor boy on the floor and was swinging its claws like a windmill, tearing bloody chunks of flesh off his body in great, sweeping motions. Alban gagged and turned away.
The Balverine sniffed the corpse satisfied with its recently killing. It grabbed the boy's head within its jaws and gave a quick, powerful jerk and there was a horrible crunch of bones being broken. Now positive that it's prey had been successfully hunted and killed, the Balverine darted into the forest, out of sight.
The swordsman closed his eyes and waited for an eternity before he turned to the others to say, "We can go now."
He led the terrified traders from out of the tree's roots and back to the road to observe the corpse. Kneeling close to the body, he and looked it over with intense morbid curiosity.
"Who was he calling for?" said the trader who Alban and Ben did not know.
"Westin, his brother," said the swordsman.
"Do you know him?" said the trader, unaware that he seemed to be annoying the swordsman or he did not care.
"Yes, I do." The swordsman replied very plainly.
"Where is he? Do you think we should return him his brother's body?"
"I don't think he'll want his body," said the swordsman.
"Why not?" but it was Alban who asked a question this time.
"Because I'm Westin and this is my brother."