𝑔𝑙𝑜𝑤'𝑠 𝑠𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑏𝑜𝑥 ⋆ 𝑛𝑜 𝑛𝑒𝑤 𝑝𝑙𝑜𝑡𝑠

KELL
Brownie
{ Country: Miyera , Region: Ashust Bluffs , Town: Sterack Outpost }

Angel-eyes was in need of rest. So was he, but he tried to ignore the ache in his limbs and back. There was little chance of finding a feather pillow in those parts. Besides, his mission was not yet complete.

Perhaps his appearance was convincing enough that no one gave him a second glance. He supposed he could pass for a monster hunter himself. He was not dressed to fight, but he had a sword on his back. And his build was no different from any other man’s. In fact he was taller than most. But his hands were the hands of a farmer, callous and with dirt under the fingernails. It was his father who had fought in wars, not Kell.

“You’ve come a long way.” The voice came from his left, and Kell restrained himself from flinching. He had been preparing himself to march up to the first person who crossed his path, but it seemed his presence at the outpost had not gone unnoticed after all. The voice belonged to a man with dead lizards hanging from his belt. Kell pried his gaze away from the oozing carcasses and up to the man’s bearded face. "I was hoping you'd seen a traveler on the road up here? About yea high, long blonde hair, big ego, generally a bastard."

Unfortunately Kell knew exactly who the man was referring to. He had seen many terrible things on his journey. The most recent was still burned in his memory: an armless body slumped against a tree, his blonde hair pulling over his shoulders. The pestilence of the forest had gotten to the body long before Kell had, and he had left without giving it a proper burial. He had not wanted to meet whatever could rip a man’s limbs clean off. Call it cowardice, but he was trying to get a monster killed, not the other way around.

“I’m afraid he met the same fate as your lizards,” answered Kell honestly. A younger version of himself would have feigned ignorance. But he knew now it was better to be honest than kind, especially in a world as bloody as theirs. Then he qualified, “If the body I saw in the forest is the same man.”

He kept his tone neutral and hoped “generally a bastard” had not been a term of endearment. Death was a fact of life that was impossible to ignore in such dangerous parts. He could not summon the sympathy to mourn for a man he had never known.

Angel-eyes prodded his shoulder with her nose, and he shrugged her off impatiently. “Look, I’m trying to find a monster hunter. I have coin for the beast’s head and for the trouble of finding it.” The change of subject was perhaps insensitive, but he needed to cut to the chase. Either this person was able to help him or he wasn’t. And Kell would rather know the truth sooner rather than later.

The journey back seemed impossibly far, but in truth it was only a ride of a day or so through the mountains. His search had taken him in a near circle. He tried not to consider how much damage had been done since he was gone. A vision of raized houses was etched behind his eyes. Fields of grain turned to blackened ash. A girl falling from the sky. It was no wonder he had trouble sleeping, lack of feather pillows aside. 

KELL
Brownie
{ Country: Miyera , Region: Ashurst Bluffs , Town: Sterack Outpost }

“Whatcha looking to kill?” It was a simple enough question, and a fair one at that, but Kell paused before answering.

He did not have a name for the creature. A woman in Eska, the town nearest his own, had called it a dragon. Of course he was familiar with the dragons of the tales, the ones with glimmering scales and scorching breath. These were the creatures that had populated the stories of his childhood. Certainly one of those would have been capable of doing what his beast had done: burning homes, setting fire to the fields, dropping people and farm animals from the sky. But there had been something different about this beast.

“I don’t know what it was,” Kell said honestly. “It burned my home village to the ground. It tore people in half and disappeared into the skies. But it did not look like a dragon, per se. In fact, its shape morphed and twisted like a shadow.”

He swallowed, and noted that his throat was dry. He was withholding some information, not because he wished to mislead the bearded man, but because he could not put it into words. He studied the man with the oozing lizards on his belt. “Ever heard of anything like that?”

No one he had met in his travels had a word for the creature he described. When he told them of its deadliness, its flight, and its shapelessness, they usually came up with some excuse. He could not blame them. It was easier to make money by killing less dangerous monsters near home. Who knew how much those lizards would catch in the market—ten, twenty silver pieces? And that was only a half day’s work.

What Kell needed was a man or woman who was after more than just coin. Pride, ambition, revenge, curiosity, spite, generosity—some motivation strong enough to make them agree to his challenge. At the end of the day, though, he was bidding against people's fear and self-doubt. Even a purse of gold coins was not enough to override those two things.

He ran a hand over his chin, as if already accepting defeat. Then he cocked an eyebrow at the other man, posing the silent question. Are you my champion?