22nd of Griselu, 1078
Journal 0 - On the Road
I wandered into the center of the town, keeping a tight hold on my cloak. The pattern in the cloth shifted slightly as I walked. It garnered a few stares from other travelers, but was damn useful when I actually needed to hide.
The tavern smelled of sweat and lamp oil. Not long ago the stench would have made me gag, but I’ve grown accustomed to these sorts of things. The night was in full swing, meaning that even in a shitball town like this the place was packed. No one would notice one more. Satisfied, I collapsed at a bar-stool and removed my hood.
“What can I get you, young lady?” The man tending the place asked. He was dragonborn, with dull bronze scales that reflected the lamplight slightly. As for his question, I gave my usual answer.
“Whatever doesn’t taste like piss.” I barked. He scowled as he began to pour.
“Fair enough.” He said shortly.
Shit! Gotta quit snapping at people like this
“Look, I’m sorry. It’s just been a rough trip.” I said
“Where from?” He asked, handing me my drink. I tossed him some silver
“Down south, for a ways.” I answered, downing the pint in nearly one gulp. It tasted like piss, of course. At the next bar, I’ll get water.
In a corner I spotted a crowd of people gathered around a woman. She was tall, with dark hair and well built. The crowd watched as she picked a dart out of a bucket and tossed it at the wall. On the wall was a series of crudely painted circles, the smallest of which was a dot. The woman’s dart hit the edge of the second smallest, eliciting cheers from the crowd. The woman herself groaned and stepped down as another took her place.
“Are they trying to hit the center?” I asked the barkeep.
“Yeah, Helga’s been trying all night.” He said, then stopped. “Wait, you mean to tell me you’ve never heard of darts?” He asked. Electing not to answer, I got up and walked towards the crowd. Helga was making her way towards the bucket, but I got there first.
“Mind if I try, love?” I asked, tossing a dart up to gauge the weight. Maybe it was the alcohol talking, but I had reason to be confident. The wall was only a couple of feet away, trivial for my sort of skill.
“Go on then.” She said, crossing her arms and smirking. Eyeing the center circle, I lined up my shot. With a good toss, the dart flew right into it. Satisfied, I gave Helga a smile and went to sit back at the bar.
The sound of war horns shook the air.
The fuck?
Suddenly, everyone in the tavern froze. After a couple of seconds of stunned silence, people began running and screaming out the door. I followed the crowd. Outside, people began grabbing their children and belongings. Carts and horses dashed out of the town. Some exited from their homes with shoddy weapons. Pitchforks, rusted swords, and hammers. The horns blared again, and from the distance in the trees I could see galloping horses.
At that moment, I realized why this place was called the Hordelands.
I shouldn’t be here
I can’t help these people
Even if I could, it would be too dangerous.
Before I could collect my thoughts, I had to dodge out of the way of a horse.
I guess I don’t have a choice
As the horse circled back around, I drew my blade with my left hand, My right found its way into my buckler. Taking a dueling stance, I looked up at the rider. A goliath, with a braided beard. He looked pissed off, and pointed his ax at me. As he charged again, I side stepped and connected with his stirrups.
After another pass, the man got fed up and leaped off his mount. With some effort, I blocked his ax and stabbed right at his gut. The fool was not armored there, and a red mess began to spill out. In desperation, he lunged for me. One more stab finished the job, but I missed his kick that landed right in my side. Not wasting any time, I turned to look at the rest of the town.
The remaining villagers were doing poorly. Blood and fire filled the streets. Another goliath stood surrounded by four villagers, this one much larger than the other. Among the defenders was Helga, brandishing a large hammer. It looked more suited for a smith than a warrior.
I rushed in, but was surprised by the monster’s speed. His greatsword rushed towards me. I tried to dodge but was too slow. In that moment I felt it. Adrenaline filled my body, followed by the rush of something greater. All at once I felt a warm embrace, and my skin went cold as ice.
Godsdamnit!
Gods fucking damnit!
I looked up and, sure enough, the blade was caught by a tendril of black smoke. It’s origin the space between the pieces of leather armor on my arm. The goliath recoiled, confused. After a split second this turned to anger, and he swung again.
No use holding back now, I’m already fucked
I dodge rolled to the right, and swung my blade around. With a mere thought, the smoke that was now billowing at my feet encompassed the sword. As I struck at his side, the goliath was assaulted by the substance. I backed up, and the oaf began to charge me. As he did, the smoke around him reacted, entering his body. With a bloodcurdling scream, the man exploded to black dust.
Despite the chaos all around, the moment felt silent. I looked around at the villagers, and on their faces was pure fear. They all stared at me, dumbfounded and horrified. Helga, to her credit, summoned the courage to stand between me and the others. She held her weapon towards me.
“I don’t know what the fuck you are, but you aren’t getting any closer.” She yelled.
I shouldn’t be here
This is what I get for trying to help
Shaking those thoughts away, I pulled up my hood. I took one last look at the terrified faces, figured there was no point in arguing, and ran. As the rest of the Horde descended on the village, a dark thought entered my mind.
With luck, none of them will live to tell about it.
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