Chapter One: Life will Fall
The city of Gelfric sat at the foot of the Brein Mountains, a land of narrow valleys and high stone walls; ancient woods steeped in pale mist and chasms reaching down into the depths of the earth. What lay within remained unknown, its’ paths un-trodden, only the greatest of adventurers would ever dare step foot in that god forsaken realm, and so the city became a haven for their kind. It was the farthest edge of Calbrian Empire; the next frontier into lands and dangers unknown, it was a place filled with possibility, mystery, wonder and death...
Dawn peeked up over the cities walls, daylight sweeping in, rushing across the winding streets and close packed houses, skirting across the cobbles and lying still, cramped and alone in the allies of the city, a stiff breeze blowing in carrying with it a touch of cold to chill the bones. Grimm stirred a soft bolt of sunlight striking him clean across the face, his eyes opening dreary; the colour darkest night peering forwards into the dim light of the new day. The young man took in a deep breath, his chest seizing up a moment later a violent coughing fit rocking his body forwards, his arms reaching up grasping at his collar; his shirt damp against icy skin. His skin was cold to the touch, like that of a corpse a painful ache resounding with each new movement. But he was alive, and that itself was strange enough; he could remember it, he remembered the world dying, he was death and it seemed somewhat contradictory for him to be alive. The boy let out a low groan slowly pushing himself upwards, a sudden numbness striking up through his limbs, his head lolling sideways and striking the edge of a wooden crate. Grimm let out a startled cry his head bouncing back upwards as he reached his arms up to grasp at the impact site; a dull throbbing blooming in his cranium. He wasn’t used to this body yet, it felt weird; it was hard to move in, and it was difficult trying to think as well.
He could already feel it; his memories were slowly slipping away, growing dim and dying too much for his body to handle, floating upwards into oblivion. One by one they vanished, his memory, his history himself... Ugh; he felt sick.
Grimm rose suddenly, his legs unsteady, stumbling forwards and collapsing against the wall of the alley, a wave of nausea rising from the very pit of his his stomach, something forcing its’ way up and out. But nothing came out, no matter how much he tried to push; he body convulsing under the strain. His fingers dug into the wall, clasping at the stone work as he continued to dry heave, before slowly he lowered himself down to sit; his back rested against the wall the pain receding slow leaving him with only a vague sensation of confusion, revulsion and apathy.
It was so strange; pain, temperature, pressure, light, time, mortality; they were different now. They meant something else; they all seemed so much more important and so much more terrifying than he had ever thought of them before.
He let out a low sigh slowly slumping down against the wall, gazing towards the wooden crate he had woken up in. The box had been turned on its’ side the bottom filled with hay; a layer of ice covering the floor beneath. Grimm swallowed hard. Someone had probably put him inside the box after they’d found him asleep in the alleyway, otherwise he probably would have died last night when the cold hit. He was well aware of what it would take to kill a normal human body, and sleeping out in the rain on a night as cold as that was certainly one way to do it.
A low growl rose up from below him, Grimm looking down to place a hand upon his stomach; he was hungry – really hungry.
He’d never eaten anything before had he; it sounded like fun, he wanted to eat as much food as he could, not that he had any money... Maybe he could get a job? No, that wouldn’t work no body hired elven year olds and it wouldn’t do him any good to tell them he was a primordial being who survived the end of reality; life currently seemed like much more of a hassle than he thought it would be. Huh was this what they called an existential crisis... Nah probably not. His stomach roared its’ indignation the young boy rising on shaky feet and hobbling out in the direction of the street using his arm to brace himself against a nearby wall. If he started walking he was certain it’d start to warm him up; for now he’d learn to walk, and then maybe he could beg; or find some other way to support himself he was certain everything would work itself out in time.
Oh that was a thought; he’d have to find some way to meet with the other primordial beings, and if he was going to do that it would be best to contact Time first, they’d always been on good terms. As for the others not so much; but they could probably explain why he was so abnormally human.
Grimm smiled beginning his intrepid march into the streets of Gelfric shaking off the frost which clung so tightly to his clothes. First he’d eat apples, and then he’d try some other kind of fruit, fruits were supposed to be sweet after all and then maybe some meat and after that pastries; he wanted to try eating all the food he’d ever seen, and while humans were by no means the best chefs they could certainly find a way to cook anything.
He laughed as he marched forwards, a spectre of death in an unsuspecting city, unaware of just how bad his day was going to get.
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“Did you hear the news?” Castern muttered from his seat hands clasped tight, fingers interlocked as if in prayer his gaze directed down towards the city waiting below them. It was an endless landscape of rising spires of ivory stone, dark grey towers, and small houses forming and complex warren of roads and streets, open squares and market places.
The city rose up from the slums: half formed, ramshackle lean-tos, touched by morning frost becoming white washed houses with dark grey slate roofs, before reaching the manicured gardens of his own mansion. Gelfric was a city divided. Once upon a time it had been nothing more than an old fort owned by the kingdom of Felbore; which did nothing but gather dust and grow mould. But once Felbore had been annexed by the Calbrian Empire it became an outpost for their soldiers a site of trade with the nation of Ilimgrass and a place where adventurers could plunge into the Brien Mountains in search of fame and fortune sharing their winnings with the Empire at large. In time the city became its’ own province ruled by a Marcher Lord who oversaw the turning of minor town into a true metropolis.
“Gramps, you can’t be taking those rumours seriously? Barron Fedian was old and crazy; it was just his time to go.” Castern looked towards the young man, Kilto giving him a weak smile before looking away.
“Do not doubt me lad, I saw this city raised from nothing but marsh and hill One-hundred-and-eight years ago, I know my way about the nobles and trust me it was not Fedian’s time. That bastard could have outlived us all.” Castern spat leaning forwards in his chair, the soft leather creaking as his fingers danced across the bronze ornaments embellished in the arms. He rose up to stand on time worn legs marching over to stand by the fire place, keeping in close proximity to its’ warmth. “I knew Fedian personally; he trained me in the use of the lance, long before his accident. It is true he lost his wits, but I can promise you his resolve was only hardened and coated in armour of insanity. He was supposed to turn One-hundred-and-forty this year, but I suppose he will never see the day.” Kilto sighed giving him a forced smile the young man joining him in a seat placed beside the fire one of the maids handing him a cup of tea before disappearing into one of the many side rooms leaving the pot on the table.
“Even for a noble one-hundred-and-forty is a hell of a long time. Not to mention he used to be an adventurer, I’m sure those experiences weighed on him; his mind could take no more – he just couldn’t revive. Gramps please calm down you’re acting-”
“Shut it boy!” Castern yelled slamming a clenched fist down into marble fire place; the stone giving way beneath the blow, a network of cracks spreading outwards, the ornaments resting atop the mantle tumbling over and lying still as the old man’s clock chimed eight in the hall below ringing through the house. Pale dust trickled down into the flames a heavy silence weighing on Castern and Kilto alike. “Yes Fedian was an adventurer; but that just means he has suffered deaths far worse than this a thousand times before. I do not make my decision based on guess work do you know how he died?” Kilto took a sip of his tea, his movements rigid his grip strained tight as he kept to his seat.
“He was defeated in a duel by Sir Dullam,” Kilto ventured laying down his tea upon the table Castern letting out a low sigh a pale glow emitting from his hand as he waved it over the surface of the fire place, the cracks slowly joining together as he righted the ornaments and dropped down to take a fire iron and prod the flames higher gesturing to a maid to bring in more wood.
“Forgive my outburst; this whole event has been weighing on me.” The old man let out a sigh stepping aside for the maid as he rubbed his palms into his wrinkled face, his expression haggard and low; more so than Kilto had ever seen the man before. He let out a sigh giving Castern a nod; the old man continued; “yes you were right he did lose that duel to Olfas. It was a bad move of Fedian’s part to challenge Dullam to pistols; I suppose he wanted to beat the knight at his own game. Fedian received a clear shot to the stomach the second the duel began and several more in the knees and arms, Dullam is a knight for a reason lad.” Castern paused for a moment the old Baron tapping the maids shoulder and gesturing for her to leave giving the same signal to all of the others. It seemed his Grandfather was back in his old habits again; they said paranoia ran in the family, Kilto sighed he just hoped he never got that old. “Now you see Fedian may have been old but he was tough, he used to be a tank in his adventuring days so he can take a hit. Despite what just happened the man let out a curse and threw his gun aside before dropping down onto his rear f, Isma; his wife rushed over and he gave her a kiss saying he was going to start training with the pistols until he beat Dullam. Everyone had a good laugh at that but when it looked like it was time for the old man to be resurrected, the bleed effect having worn away most of his health, he let out a terrible scream and blood started to gush from his wounds like nothing you’ve ever seen; everyone rushed over and tried to heal the man but it did no good he had already died. However his body did not evaporate; it just stayed there, like when you would an animals or a monsters and a large treasure chest just appeared at Dullam’s feet.”
“And he’s still not revived?” Kilto pushed sitting forwards in his chair his interest officially peeked. Castern gave him a stern shake of the head before pouring himself a cup of tea.
“No, I hear Lord Alchus plans to keep Dullam detained until Fedian revives.”
“Isn’t that a bit harsh, especially if the man is gone for good.”
“If Fedian is dead I assume our good Lord will have the knight killed, and I can’t disagree with him. He shouldn’t have been arguing with Fedian in the first place; the man was his superior damn it; not to mention the way he humiliated the good man like that.” Kilto winced. Castern was always like this, old, stubborn and imperious to a fault. Kilto reached up rubbing his shoulder before shooting his uncle a forced smile.
“I wouldn’t worry too much gramps – I’m sure this will all blow over soon enough, Dullam probably poisoned his shots or something.” The old man gave a grunt and nodded.
“I’m looking into that and if he did by the gods I shall take my findings to the king and have the damned fool put to death, now I just have to decide how to do it...”
“Well I think my mother will want to see me back soon so I’ll be departing, see you later Gramps.”
“I told you not to call me that you fool!” Castern yelled, Kilto giving the old man a brief bow before stepping back and jogging in the direction of the hallway.
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It was surprisingly different to what he’d been expecting.
Grimm sat upon the steps of a small bakery, warm air wafting out through the doorway brushing against the back of his neck the scent of bread cooking in the furnace slowly fading away. Grimm watched as the sun sank before him drooping down below the distant horizon touching on the edge of the cities’ walls and setting the streets ablaze on a fiery light. The city seemed to have been built atop a large hill and divided into several layers, each one a level platform a steep slope separating each district from the one above and the one below. From his vantage he could see almost everything; he was currently sitting on the second layer of the city, the slums stretching into the distance below and while gigantic stone houses rested above, some kind of palace of castle resting at the cities’ very peak. Grimm yawned shuffling out of the way of a customer, the middle-aged woman making her way into the bakery with a backward glance in his direction a low rumble rising up from his stomach.
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The young boy patted his gut before turning his attention back to the street. He’d seen the city change over the course of the day; watched people woke up and set about their daily lives. Merchants erected their stalls in the street, some people bartered for food and trading coins and whatever else they had to hand while others simply rushed by in the direction of wherever it was they needed to go. People worked to earn money and people earned money so that they could eat; humans had an ecosystem just like any other animal they just happened to call it an economy; and now he was part of that human ecosystem too! Grimm let out a laugh, a wide grin splitting his face as the door behind him burst open, a wild yell splitting the still evening air.
“You again kid? I told you before, leave me be; I’m trying to run a business here!” The baker a large rotund man screamed swinging his broom in a wide arc bringing it down atop Grimm’s head with a fwoosh. “You said you would leave my shop alone if I gave some bread and I did, so get lost damn it!” The baker seethed a small vein popping out atop his scalp; Grimm sitting transfixed by the man his head smooth and glossy with an expert shine...
Ah, he was supposed to say something right?
“I did leave and I walked around the town for a bit but then I got cold so I came back here. When you heat up the bread it makes the whole storefront nice and arm.” Grimm smiled the baker standing in shock his broom falling to his side. The large man turned around to go back into the bakery, resting a palm atop his hairless little head; but before he left he let out a long lonely sigh uttering three simple words.
“Please just leave.”
The Bakery door chimed the man rejoining his customer, Grimm watching through the store window as the man gave a short bow to the woman who had entered just a moment before, the old lady snatching a large cloth bag from atop the counter and walking out head held high. Hmm maybe there was something he was misunderstanding? The old woman shot him a glare from the other side of the street, his hands shoved deep into his pockets to stave off the chill of the encroaching evening, another wave of hunger rising up from below him followed by a long low rumble – his stomach told him he was hungry again.
It was a shame he wasn’t allowed back in the shop that baker’s bread was lovely; maybe he’d go to the market instead. If he sat out in front of one of their stalls maybe they’d give him food as well; that or they’d chase him away with a broom, well it was one five odds at least by his reckoning. It was worth a shot, after all what could possibly go wrong?
Grimm trudged his way down the street, his hands pushed deep into his pockets, balled up with a copper coin he’d found on the floor and a roll of oily cloth. He had no idea exactly how to use either items but he felt it would be better to keep them with him. He turned off of the main road and into a side street before taking several alleys in the general direction he felt the market was supposed to be. He popped out of a small byway, running between what looked like two warehouses. He stood at the bottom of a wide road which just got wider as you went up opening into a sort of makeshift plaza, wooden stalls standing still in the open air, people rushing and pressing about them and while it wasn’t the market he’d had in mind it would certainly do. They had a butcher a baker a grocer; there were a couple of people wheeling about portable food carts, and a couple of people selling different kind of knick knacks and necessities.
It wasn’t like any of the other markets he’d been in thus far, this one was smaller and darker; the people were dressed more plainly as well; maybe this was like the working class market or something? The city did seem to have a pretty strong class system well of course it would when the city itself was divided into layers.
A gentle nudging pain reminded him why he was looking for a market in the first place: food. Grimm let out a low sigh rubbing his stomach before jogging in the direction of the grocers cart slipping into the crowd of bodies as they traded coins with the tall scraggly selling them their fruit and vegge.
“Come now ma’am, leave some for the other customers” The grocer laughed dropping a pile of vegetable in a woman’s bag before she heaved the sack up onto her shoulder.
“Oh, don’t be like that I’m just restocking this weeks’ soup. Gotta keep the husband from wasting away.” The woman laughed waving to the grocer before making her way out of the market, Grimm slipping into the old woman’s place.
“Oh, you mammy sent you out to do the chores eh kid, what you want to buy?” The man laughed sweeping a hand over his wears some of the other customers letting out a slow humph as he skipped the queue.
“Apples’ I want apples.”Grimm declared pointing a small pyramid of the fruit stacked in the corner; the grocer laughed reaching out his hand.
“That’ll be a copper an apple.”
“How do I pay?”
The low murmur of the crowd fell hushed, the Grocer rising from his seat. “If you aint going to pay then get out of here you street rat!” The man yelled grabbing a short wooden stick from the counter top raising it high over his head. Grimm stumbled backwards, a tingle of fear working its way up from the souls of his feet as he crashed back into the crowd, a large hand from one of the other customers bowling him over and out into the street.
The young child fell in a disarray of limbs before eventually pulling himself up from the cobbles shaking his head to drag his thoughts together again. He reached down to rub his rear end, that fall had really hurt. Hmmm, maybe it was better to work out how to pay first rather than asking for help. Maybe the way children and adults paid was different? He couldn’t remember he knew it was simple: it was supposed to be simple. Grimm pulled out the dull brown coin from his pocket, one side printed with the head of a young woman and the other with some kind of weird looking bird with horns; or maybe it was a dragon – his memories just kept getting hazier and hazier. Grimm sighed his stomach roaring in anger at his previous failing.
Being human was hard.
He let out a low sigh, before making his way towards one of the ware houses resting at the edge of the plaza, dropping down onto a granite step, one of the brass pipes above his head letting out a wild screech. Grimm let out a cry at the sound pulling his knees closer about his chest; a sickly shiver working its’ way through his body, he was cold again.
“Come on, don’t wuss out now Ribble, move your arse!” a young girl hissed Grimm startling at her voice; she was probably not much older than Grimm, with short white hair and a long muddy brown shirt. She dragged a larger boy behind her a big pack strapped to his back, a younger child with a shaved head following behind the two of them. All three of them were dressed in rags, barefoot but for a covering of long strips of cloth wrapped about their. Grimm nodded to himself as they passed him by, the youngest child shooting him a glare, the other two giving him a glance but moving on without paying him any real attention.
The trio stopped besides the edge of the green grocers cart, as far in the distance the sound of a bell tolled, shaking the air, the crowd looking away for a brief moment Grimm picking out the shape of a clock tower cast in red not too far away. By the time he turned around the children were already leaving the stall. Well that was disappointing he’d hoped he’d be able to see how to use money. Oh it looked like they were coming back.
“Hey, you tell Orley that this patch belongs to us!” the youngest child hissed holding up a small green apple, shooting Grimm a wide grin “you got that?” His words were followed by a sharp cry the girl striking him over the back of the heads before dragging the pair of boys along them along giving Grimm a sidelong glance before leaving.
Orley? Maybe they’d mistaken him for someone else?
Oh well at least now he knew what he was supposed to do with his rag. Grimm let out a small laugh pulling the long strip of oily cloth from his pocket winding it about his foot before tying it tight with a nice little bow. It was strange, he could remember how to tie a bow but not how to buy an apple... He’d think about it later. Besides now he at least had an idea of how to buy an apple; it seemed like children didn’t need to pay after all!
The distant bell finished tolling, and fate was set into motion.
“Come on people time to close up shop!” a harsh voice rang out in the wake of the bell, a man dressed in dull armour appearing at the other end of the market, “bell’s tolled six that means no more selling, hurry this along so I can get a nice warm drink down at Mina’s before I head home!” The guard cried, pulling off his helmet, his spear resting low upon his shoulder.
“Aye, care if I join ya there Leo?” A young man running a portable food stand laughed waving at the guard, before the two broke out into conversation as the customers began to disperse, the larger stalls left in their places as the shop owners began to stow their merchandise away. Ah! If he was going to buy something he had to go now.
Grimm hopped up from his seat, scuttling over in the direction of the grocers’ stall, stopping at the edge of the counter slightly short on breath, the Grocer shot him a hard glare as he continued to pack his goods away Grimm giving him a warm smile his hand reaching out. He took hold of one of the apples before stepping back and giving the man a wave.
The Grocer stood still his face contorted in a mix of confusion and rage before he reaching down to drag up his cudgel, pointing the wooden stick in Grimm’s direction before screaming at the top of his lungs; “catch that thief!”
Grimm stood in shock for a moment an old woman stepping in towards him, a pair of hands closing upon his shoulder. They boy recoiled, slipping his arm free of the old woman’s grip the apple coming free of his as he stumbled backwards unsteady on his feat “Get back here you street rat!” Grimm his heart quiver, an acute pain swelling in his chest as he turned taking off into a narrow byway, struggling to find a steady pace, as the setting sun lit his path in a bloody red, the eaves of the houses set ablaze. The Grocer continued to scream, taking off in pursuit, not much more than a few foot steps behind.
“I’ve had enough of you runts, pilfering my merchandise!” The Grocer yelled drawing in ever closer. Grimm made a sharp turn down a second alley, the merchant letting out a curse failing to make the bend. He didn’t understand what was going; why was this happening – those children had done just the same thing he had? He didn’t get humans, he didn’t want this to happen, but how was he supposed to stop it? He couldn’t do a damn thing; he didn’t want to be cold or hungry, he didn’t want to be hurt
They ran deeper and deeper into the city, through the endless winding of narrow paths which choked out the light and left them standing in pallid grey shadows. Grimm made sharp turns whenever he could, labouring to keep up on his own two feet without plummeting into the dirt until at last the sound of footsteps died far off in the distance. He paused slumping down back against a wall, his heart rioting in his chest, his body hot and numb and aching. What had he done wrong? He supposed food wasn’t free for children was it... It should be. Was it wrong to steal to feed yourself, he didn’t have any money so was he just supposed to starve? He didn’t get humans. Grimm sniffed wiping at his face, a track of tears falling down to pool in the dirt and the dust of the rough beaten path. Grimm pulled his coin out of his pocket; that man had chased him down over this, he’d chased him with a stick, and if he’d caught him... He shook his head he didn’t want to think about it.
“So you did have money after all!”
A pair of tough gnarled hands grasped him about the wrist pulling him in close. “Filthy gutter-snipe, why can’t you trash just learn to leave decent folk alone!” The Grocer yelled down at him, sneering through a half shaved beard and lop sided moustache, yanking the the coin from Grimm’s hand before stuffing it deep into his own pocket. “It’s about time I teach your kind a lesson!”
Grimm rose to his feet with what little strength he had left the air suddenly forcing its’ up way out of his lungs. The Grocer planted his boot into Grimm’s gut, a heavy blow knocking him back and pinning him up against the wall. Pain exploded outwards the Grocer stepping back letting him fall down onto his side, a wave of pain rolling its’ way outward from his abdomen like a physical pinning him in place, curled up in the foetal position. The Grocer sneered raising up his foot and driving it down into Grimm’s ribs “Tell your rat bastard friends”, again, “to never”, and again “steal from me or I’ll send you all to respawn at the temple!” the Grocer reached down lifting Grim up by his hair, the young boy straining for breath the taste of blood rising to his mouth, the world about him seeming to shake and bend. The man drove his knee up into Grimm’s chest launching him backwards his body slamming against a wall and wall into the dirt, warm blood slowly working its’ down his forehead; his hands as cold as ice, as his torso burnt with pain.
“I hope that teaches you your damn lesson.” The Grocer sneered turning away Grimm slowly pushing himself up, a sensation of emptiness working its’ way outward, momentarily blocking out the pain. He turned trudging slowly in the man’s direction before reaching up, grabbing hold of his worn leather vest.
“Please give it back.” Grimm reached out offering his hand to the man, a look like fire burning in his eyes.
“Don’t touch me you filthy gutter-snipe!” The man swung his arm round knocking Grimm away with a back hand, a sharp throbbing bursting in his cheek. The young boy lay there for a moment the Grocer bending over him, hand grasping him about the collar and hoisting him up. “Learn some damn respect. Its’ one measly copper; you really want to fight me over it?” The Man launched his fist forwards into Grimm’s face, slamming him down into the dirt everything about him going black hard words drifting out through the darkness “It’s about time I sent you back to the slums where you belong”
Time seemed to trickle by, the darkness growing deeper, pain rushing through his body like a flame, he struggled for breath, reaching blindly into nothingness his consciousness continuing to slip further and further away into the dark before. A moment of weightlessness struck him and his world went cold as once again he found himself slipping deeper into a dark shifting sea.