He notices the signs well before reaching the farmhouse—shallow tracks made not by any two-legged creature he recognizes lead to the corpse of a goblin. Judging by the plasticity of the skin, it had not been dead for more than six hours, meaning he may be tracking a nocturnal creature. From the location of the wounds to the side and rear of the body, it was ambushed from behind by a stealthy, or perhaps patient, predator. Worst of all, The attacker has drained the unfortunate creature of all bodily fluids through the circular stab wounds in its abdomen.
Abomination, Ardy-nos mouthed the word, grimacing in disgust.
He has tracked many things—bears, wolves, even birds—but he’s never seen an attack as disgusting as this. Perhaps that is why these ruins attracted the Old One's attention. No ordinary hunter can contend with whatever has spawned here, which is why people like Ardy exist. You can most effectively contend with monsters by becoming a monster yourself.
Ardy realizes he requires more information than can be gleaned from this corpse. He looks towards the farmhouse ahead of him. He can hear the gentle scraping of a farming implement through the wall of towering stalks not far from the building. Ardy decides on his next goal and walks calmly towards the noise.
Rounding the corner of the squat home, he sees a muscular man calmly swinging a hoe as he prepares a row of soil for planting. “Good morning,” Ardy greets him, projecting a friendly demeanor. The man stops his motions and turns to Ardy, leaning against the hoe as if it were a walking cane.
The man squints his eyes, “Who’re you?” he asks, looking Ardy up and down. After a second, he adds, “What’re you?”
Ardy chuckles in reply, “My name is Ardy-nos Deknoir. As for what I am - I am a …,” he pauses for a moment before, “monster hunting specialist. I got word of strange monsters in the area and have come to exterminate them.”
The man’s eyebrows raise before he mumbles, “Damn, they actually hired an expert. Who’da thunk it.” The farmer continues more composedly, “Took long enough - we’ve already lost half our cattle. What do you need from me? I suppose you want to look around?”
Ardy replies, feeling no need to correct the man's assumptions, “Yes, I would like to inspect the location of the attacks and the cattle themselves, if possible. I may have specific questions for you if you have a few moments afterward.”
“Alright. The larger field is over there,” he points to a large pasture with a rickety wooden fence, “but we’ve moved all the cattle to the smaller field just past it now. It has a better fence. We only let them graze in the wide pasture during the day now.”
Ardy nods in understanding, “Wise precautions. I’ll take a look and return after.”
Striding quickly along the shallow dirt path, he reaches the first field. Traveling along the fence line, he quickly spots several locations where something smashed the flimsy fence apart and squeezed through. Eventually, he reaches the smaller enclosure currently housing the cattle. Inspecting the structure, he notes where the fence has been struck by a sharp point, leaving a deep divot in the sturdy planks. He mentally compares the marks to those found on the goblin and concludes they are likely from the same creature. He’ll have some questions for the farmer.
Returning to the man who has just finished his manual tilling, he greets the man with a quick wave and asks, “I’ve investigated the signs in the fields. Have all the farms been hit, or only the ones south of Oakhurst?”
The farmer ponders momentarily before replying, “Us here on the southern side of town have been hit harder, but the others aren’t entirely spared.” Ardy nods to this, noting that since the markings and trails were mainly on the southern side of the fence as well, the monsters most likely spawned in the ruins to the south.
Stolen story; please report.
“Alright,” Ardy says, “I’ve got enough information here. I’ll need to continue my investigation at the southern ruins.”
“Oh, the citadel? Not that you need my warnings, but be careful if you head there. Some poor blokes from the town have already gone there and never come back.”
“Thanks for the warning. All the more reason I should check it out.”
After saying farewell to the farmer, he heads north towards the town of Oakhurst. As he travels, he ignores everyone going about their business, lost in thought about what sort of monster could have left such peculiar signs. He’s suddenly interrupted by a deep voice, “Excuse me, sir.”
Looking up, he squints to shield his eyes from the overhead sun, which is reflecting off a set of polished armor. “Yes?” he replies.
“My name is Darfin. Are you new here? I don’t think we’ve met.”
Ardy studies the speaker for a moment, taking in the sight of a majestic golden dragon on two legs.
This fellow immediately stopped me out of concern. Based on that, and from his appearance, he seems the straight-laced type. I’ll have to make fun of him a bit.
“Yes, I am new here. No, we haven’t met.”
“Can I ask about your purpose in town?”
“Yes.”
Hearing Darfin sigh, Ardy smiles a little.
He really is the easily exasperated type. He reminds me of the old abbot - he was the most fun to play pranks on back at the monastery. It could be fun to hang around for a while.
“What is your purpose in town?” the shiny warrior asks, finally.
“I am going to the sunless citadel to remove an abomination,” Ardy answers truthfully.
Surprised, Darfin replies, “Oh. Me too.” seeming to approve.
“Why don’t we go together? I am meeting up with a group of mercenaries tomorrow, who will travel into the sunless citadel together. I am sure we can purge the place more easily in an organized group.”
Ardy ponders for a few seconds before accepting the offer. “Very well, that does sound like a good idea. Perhaps you can blind the monster with your shiny armor while I kill it.”
“Great,” Darfin responds affirmatively but seems caught off-guard by the last bit. Ardy interrupts him before he can answer, offering to eat lunch together and trade knowledge regarding the citadel.
As they begin cleaning up the remains of their meal, Ardy secretly takes a bit of the cloth he had wrapped his rations in and writes a message on it, stuffing it in his pocket for now. “Let’s head into town,” he says to Darfin, “I need to meet this Hucrele fellow you mentioned.”
After a bit of conversation, he slaps Darfin on the back. “Mister dragon, I think we’ll get along just fine. I look forward to defeating evil monsters together.” As his hand meets the back of Darfin’s armor, he attaches the cloth he had scribbled on earlier. With a smile, they continue toward the town, the draconic warrior unaware that he now has an advertisement for “Free Piggyback Rides” stuck to the back of his armor.
Several hours and several piggyback rides later, they reach the town. Ardy excuses himself from the horde of clamoring children surrounding Darfin. He introduces himself to the shopkeeper at the Hucrele manor, promising to return the following day to meet the other mercenaries.
Darfin and Ardy enter the inn together and sit down to eat boar stew. He hears a shout coming from the door: “Hey, orc! I bet I could drink you under the table.”
He sees a stout dwarven woman with a barrel in one arm swaying in the doorway, so he replies in good humor, “Hah! You’re on, pipsqueak.”
The rest of the night is a blur of loud cheers and spiced ale. Eventually, he feels his senses slipping away and realizes he has had too much to drink. He puts a hand on his chest and feels the amulet of the fathomless underneath his tunic. Suddenly, he feels inspired.
These people don’t know the grace of the Old One. I should sing to them the song of our people—the song of the deep sea.
He raises a mug and a spoon, mimicking the chaotic clashing of the currents, as he chants into the night, bestowing blessings of the forgotten depths upon all who will listen.