The Drunk
Chapter 1
Farnham ran across the Green land his breath coming out in short ragged bursts tears streaming down his face. He stumbled and fell to the ground turning he saw a huge pillar of black smoke billowing in the distance. Farnham put his head in his hands catching his breath. It had happened all over again. Tristram was burning.
Hearing the screams Farnham had stumbled to see what was happening only to see creatures running towards the town some squat demons wielding wicked spears others the goatmen he recalled from the night in the labyrinth, the girl Gillian had died a spear though her screams for help cut off by a spear in the gut. Fear had sobered Farnham quickly dashing for the forge he took up the sword and scabbard he had taken from the demon when he had been in the labyrinth. For a second he hesitated the right thing to do would be to stay and fight. Perhaps he would find death a release; maybe the demons spears would be an end to the nightmares. Then fear won over all else. He sprinted for the river splashing though is dark water onto the other side. He ran past the witches' hut, which looked deserted. Onto the grey forbidding hills not looking back. He ran blindly not caring where he was. Only wanting to escape the horrors at Tristram.
So now what? He thought to himself. In the distance he saw the towering black trees of the dark forest beyond them the marsh. He dimly remembered being told that the rogue monetary lay beyond the marches. He stood wiping the tears from his face and began walking. Rain began to fall, like all the angels in heaven had decided to take a piss at the same time. It matted Farnham long hair and his scruffy beard. He thought about his life in Tristram before it all went wrong. He had been training to be a soldier of fortune, as had many other young men in town. Rumour had it many generals in westmarch would snap up any mercenaries in the area to bolster their force and if victory went their way they would be well paid. All those dreams had been shattered the night the riders came. As if be had been buried alive the world had gone a meaningless grey.
Snapped out of his dark brooding by a structure ahead. It looked like an abandoned farm. Cautiously approaching he stepped slowly onto the porch looking down onto the wooden planks he saw they were stained with blood. He opened the solid oak door to find the house eerily deserted. The house comprised of a single large room two beads each on an opposite wall and a bookshelf on the far wall. Farnham turned to the door. Night was coming on and the rain had intensified, he decided he would stay the night in this place though he did feel uncomfortable. As though the ghosts of the past owners still haunted this place. He didn't like the idea of sleeping in another mans bead but he was to exhausted to really care, crawling into the bead he laid his head back and went to sleep almost immediately. The dream was always the same always the butcher killing all his friends everyone he had thought would remain in his life suddenly gone. There were so many bodies they were all around him with the accusing stares of the dead. He couldn't…breath. Snapping awake gasping in air. He struggled from his sweat-covered sheets. Standing up he took deep breaths trying to calm his wildly beating heart. He decided to try and find the food stores of this farm. Luckily there was some dried meat, fruits and biscuits. After a small meal he set off again hoping to reach the monastery within at least two days.
The sky was a dull grey and the whole land seemed to be eerily quite no birds song, No wind just stillness. Farnham barley noticed he was to wrapped up in his dark past. He felt a fierce need for a drink to lose himself to forget the burning memories but there was no drink only blasted water. He spat onto the pale grass disgustedly.
Suddenly he saw smoke rising ahead. Finally he thought. As he crested the hill he saw it was a campfire but the figures around it were all female. He decided that it must be some of the rogues. He ran down the hill calling "hey over here" the women around the fire rose slowly. What looked to be the leader of the group strode slowly towards Farnham. She was tall and very pale she was clothed in a dark breastplate when Farnham looked into her eyes he felt unease in his stomach. The others almost ten of them trailed behind her all with the same pale faces and fiery eyes. Farnham noted with discomfort that all of them carried weapons. "Who are you?" Farnham asked his voice rasping like a knife being sharpened. The leader spoke showing sharp white teeth "I am Saelda" The voice sounding hollow, dead. Farnham backed away his hand going to his sword.
Sealda smiled. She and the others began to advance readying their weapons. Farnham pulled his sword from its scabbard. He had forgotten its unnatural lightness the arcane runes upon its length blazed with eldritch hunger. Farnham felt bitter hate well up in his soul all his life nothing he had done seemed to have made any difference now these ghostly women would bare the brunt of his anger. Farnham's adversaries hesitated seeing the demonic sword and the gleam in its owner's eyes. Sealda hissed, "Are you all cowards? Kill him"
At that moment Farnham charged forward. His body remembered the forms of swordplay and he spun his sword about him like a whirlwind. Two of the women were wounded in a heartbeat; one went down missing her throat another had taken a moment to realize she had a wicked slash from her chest to her hip, Farnham laughed with a mad joy at the strength he felt. The demon sword seemed to pass though armour and flesh like it was nothing but parchment It's runes blazing as if in glee at the bloodshed. Now the others were on their guard and they all grouped together so Farnham couldn't get close. One of them backed behind him trying to take him by surprise after a short exchange of blows she nitched his arm, he retuned by lopping her head off at the shoulders. This distraction however had given Farnham's assailants to surround him. They slowly closed in tightening the net, Farnham thought desperately of how he could overcome them but it seemed he was doomed. Just when Farnham had given up hope, he heard a whizzing sound and a dull thunk followed by a scream of pain he turned to see one of his opponents with an arrow protruding from her throat. Farnham taking advantage of the gap ran though disrupting the formation. More arrows whizzed by unnervingly finding their targets. Farnham charged forward with renewed vigour splitting shields and breaking swords. Suddenly it was just Farnham and Sealda. The mysterious archer seemed to realise that whatever past between these two should be without interference. "I'm going to gut you like a fish" Sealda hissed to Farnham they slowly circled each other she feinted at him but her sword was easily parried away. Then she launched a viscous volley of blows at Farnham. Now they were both fighting at a high speed their blades moving faster, faster, Farnham was grinning like a madman. Suddenly in one smooth motion Farnham knocked her blade flying though the air and before she had time to act plunged his own right through her belly. She gasped blood coming from her mouth. "Goodbye Sealda" he whispered. Then the air about her began to vibrate there was a flash of blue light. Farnham looked back fearing sorcery but the only thing there was her corpse paler then usual, if it were possible.
Farnham after sheathing his sword searched the bodies to see if anything could be gained from them after a moment he had a pouch containing a considerable amount of gold coins. Then remembering the archer he turned to see her, for it was a women striding towards him. She peered at him then not recognising him spat onto Sealda's corpse. "Who are you?" she said after a brief pause.
"Farnham" he replied wearily noting the confrontational edge in her voice
"Farnham…?" she said raising her eyebrows. "Just Farnham" his eyes hardening into a steely gaze. "Well then just Farnham you were heading the wrong way" He frowned "But the monastery is that way" he replied puzzled "That it is but the monastery is overrun the sisterhood camp is this way" she countered pointing to the south west. "Will you accompany me there?"
