"Seek light on your knowledge; never trust the words of a glided man, nor the stories told by the people of the street -- And often not on the soldiers who seek remorse from their scars of the passing day. But those who ate scrags in the dust and watched the horror without shame."
- Fortress King, Meralith
----------------------------------------
Prologue: A deadman's rawgabbit
----------------------------------------
Entering a bar for the first time, his mouth gaped by the number of heads in this room.
It was lively when he came to the door - expecting a rude welcoming from the indigenous locals - but he was only welcomed by a dark room, with the only light showing off a drunk old man stoned in the table accompanied by a barkeep with a pale and stoic expression.
If it was a clueless person entering the room, they'd mistake these pair's peculiarity for a fountain guardian.
A pair of identification bars floated above the two. The young man shuddered lest to remain calm.
[LV 402][Unknown Warrior: Vitality Unknown.][Status: Drunk]
[LV 34][Unknown Bartender: Vitality Unknown.][Status: Undetermined.]
He knew the place he arrived to wasn't normal. And that high level of the drunk man was a level only accessible for Rank S adventurers. It made him shudder but that was all.
He did not dare to think that he took the wrong door. He knew he took the right door and never the one in the far corner and that was it. He was not the kind of a crude man who'd believe at someone's babbles and open the said door without gaining legitimacy from others.
Though a glimpse of suspicion lingers within his doubts. He thoughts that the antics of the living had already caught up to him, purposely misleading him to the corner.
But this was fine. Either he took the wrong door or not, at least, he found people. That was good enough for him.
The young man shook his head and proceeded to take heed of his predicament.
He called both of them but none of them turned their heads.
... It was weird that it took a toll on his logic. It ceased for a moment.
His summons was loud and all, it wasn't loud to call the whole village, sure, but it'll be enough to take in eyes from all sides if he did it in the day village.
He was confused and had nothing else on his mind but to leave and come back again... But he had already entered.
It would be a sham, throwing a rock into their windows, for these locals if he just simply left, even if they're making a fool out of him.
He can't afford to offend either of them. Not in the night, that is sure, but this place is strange. It'll never go through the night.
He, a young person groomed by his parents to be a person of the fields, not a person who'd go after every living being in the woods with blades at hand. But that was not it. He was not a fine sort that would think reasonable explanations to something unnatural like this and make conjunctures, nor he was groomed by the Guild to develop a jester and blindside them for short-lived attention.
He could only wait and stand courteous for the playful men.
Maybe, just maybe. They'll pay attention to him if he waited in the door.
He waited... Very long. Long enough for the melted candlestick to be renewed. But he wasn't aware, He kept his mind into the two men and never on the surroundings.
The young man was entranced by their performance. He wasn't sure how to make of this situation.
It was weird. Uncanny for expression. Yet the young man did not dare to call them again and waited patiently for changes in their person.
One of them was realms beyond his. It would be a shame if he offended him and shredded into nothing but dust.
He did not move from his spot, he stood there as he waited, but it was for naught.
The young man was sure he wasted an entire Holy Prayer Candlestick waiting for them to draw breath. As time even more pressed on, the young man was sure that this was no ordinary ploy to keep unwanted guests away.
No ordinary beings would be able to stay still. Not even the fishes nor the gargoyles, that is sure.
They were at standstill, sure, like an amateur fool doing their quip and waiting for the other party to recognize their attempts at humor, but that was not it. They were far worse than a living statue. It was as if they were dead. Their eyes never winked, it never has shown their black pupils either.
Perhaps, this is one of the oddities that this place has?
It was supposed to be a place pitied by a stench full of dread and iron, a place where rust shifts even more worse. Though he couldn't sense any of them. Only a salivating smell of fresh-baked bread entered his noses.
The young man was left paralyzed in the vomitorium, he had the desire to run away and look for another bar. But he shrugged it off and instead waited.
What harm could it bring to wait even more? You already wasted time to wait for the other party, it is only fine to wait even longer.
Maybe, they would give up on their antics and expend more attention to the poor sod waiting in the door.
Another candlestick of time has passed. The young man was growing tired, much to his disdain, he couldn't hold it anymore and turned around.
Because this place wasn't up to his expectations when he knew of it - no, he never knew of it but his attempt to file things out for the better of his stay was less than zero.
It is safe to say that he had no expectations, to begin with, there were some, though he was not aware.
He tried to discover this place but never made progress, and thus, He only knew of this place's fine class 'here and that' by the guide of the book but, never lent an ear over to the local nonsense that would greatly appease his misinformation.
He never went nearby the pale people in this principality of neverday.
Even for a courageous warrior. None would come near over these dreadlords.
Just when he was about to reach for the knob, a heated argument sprang out of nowhere.
"When will you pay your bill, Joaquim."
"Right... Now..? Huh. Have a scurry of your own palate- Ugh. Nevermind... Pouches' had a hole."
"None of the daylight you've spent in this seat had any coins rolling into the table. Since day one, if my cock is not mistaken."
"The last day of the Fire... I filed the full amount. Don't take me for a fool, barkeep. Your cock must've been crazy. Put it into the fire and we'll have a fill... A good choice, for both of us, don't you think?"
"You jest. Have one final cup and scurry your ass back to your fountain. Don't come back again, if your pouches don't have an ounce of coin on it!"
A pair of old raspy and dry voice stopped the young man from leaving, one was devoid of tones that he was expecting from a living and the other one was hoarse yet vivid of life. The man turned towards once again and noticed severe changes in the mess.
There were light, perhaps there was in the beginning, but it was only limited between the two standstill men.
Right now, there were unnecessary ramblings left and right, and several identification bars hovered forth. It was too many for the young man to go through so he shrugged every single of them away from his sight.
He examined the place once again.
Old adventurers with scars that should've confined them in a coffin were laughing half-heartedly on their seats and cups that were thrown around for no reason.
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
Knights of rusted honor were silently having their own palate of a variety of foods in the corner, and the proprietress finally made an appearance and winked towards the young man at the door before going into the crowd of brawny men, yet, she wasn't that eye-catching.
With that deep scar. It was old. Unsightly. Sure, her features are desirable and cute. She was the ideal woman. Busty figure and all, yet that scar...
... It just ceased the young man's palate and felt something was surging within his abdomen.
Unlike the waitresses in the day, who wore pretty dresses and an alluring aura. She felt horrible. Much... Horrible was the word, it was the safest word to describe her.
The young man couldn't make out of her, much less the guests of this oddity.
Guilt warped the young man's heart as soon as he remembered her predicament, but keeping her in mind wouldn't do him any good.
The young man shook the image of her tattered dress and made a leeway of himself through the mess and into the old people rambling in the isle.
As they said, The older the wiser. The young man gave a gesture to give him two cups of beer to the barkeep who finally noticed him. The old bartender had a tacit understanding of what he meant and made a beeline to his station.
"New... To this place, young lad?" The old man oogled down his beer in one go ere he spoke in a weird tone. He gave an eye to the young man from toe to head.
"No... Not from that place... Right... The young body is still warm. Be thankful."
"A warm body. Heh... 'Tis has been a three fire cycles to see one! Good heavens. The warm must've wronged him for him to come all the way here. Huh? Doncha believe, Joaquim?"
The old Bartender let out a dry, ominous laugh. The old man gave a nod as he peered on his empty cup, silence befell to both of them till the old man shook his head.
"Good Gods. What are the people in the day are doing? You are young and had the strength. Surely you're not running away from something..? Nah. That is fine equipment over there... Good stuff, lest you worry about the possibilities that are nigh of you settling anywhere in this creep."
"Not today, that for sure. But if you persist on and had the scythe, you will see yourself digging your own dust mantle in your prime."
The young man's brows furrowed upon his words. The old man knew better for him, thinking the silence was the young man's reply for his babble, he continued while massaging his fore.
"Yeah... You are not hearing bullshit... The Creep's a place for good men who had a run of their prime. For me and even these kids at the back, 'tis a very good accommodation to wait for the scythe. Even the nobles had a great time here."
"For you? Pfft-. It is a total waste..! Scythe's not choosy for the blood, young lad, it wouldn't matter if you're young or not. But for sure, it aims anyone who had a nosy business around here..." The old man scoffed. "Warm bodies should know better about their fate. They shouldn't be here."
"Tomorrow is full of uncertainties... Be silent and leave through the gate once you're done. Young lad. Don't go through the fountain square, that's where the lamp withers."
The young man gave him a nod and took heed of his words.
There was always room for enlightenment, mostly for things that speak for the devil's tongue.
However, he did not forget his reason for coming into such a lonely creep. He took out a bag of crystals and displayed the entirety of them to the old man. The old man took heed to the shining spectacle and loosened the grip on his cup, this situation stood still - till the barkeep returned with the two cups of the best drinks he requested.
"What do you think of these." The young man said with a grin while flaunting the bag of gems, although his face is hidden, the old man knew he was smiling beyond that facade. It's not as if the Old man grew another eye to look beyond it but, the muscles visible on the edges of his mask told otherwise.
"An everyday stuff... Heh. You know your jest well enough, young lad. I never grow too old to get tired of this." The old man sneered as he reached out for the spare cup. "I will be shamelessly taking this. You're asking a big time for this junk, after all."
"Go ahead." The young man packed the pouch of gems back. "I'll give it to you once you answer my question."
"What kind of information you'd like to know..?" The old man downed the cup in one go right before he spoke in a dead-serious tone. "Surely, you will not ask this poor old man to trace the alphabets of an ancient origin text? Perhaps, a wyrmspeak? A weapon forged by the fallen wyrm? Or seek an audience for the olden kings... That live up in that croaked castle beyond the creep? No. The scythe's there. Maybe a knowledge from them?"
The young man shook his head. "Not those you spoke of. But I'd like to know one thing."
"Fire away."
"Grimayus valley." The young man said with a dark expression within his face. His face went even darker as he remembered the anomalies revolving around the said place. "I would like to know what is happening below Grimayus Vall-"
THUD. The cup that the old man was holding fell into the ground, spilling the good ol' alcohol into the battered planks.
The young man furrowed his brows. His expression says otherwise, he was sure that his travel was worth it.
If the information that he seeks from gives a reaction, there's always a light over it, unless faked which is nigh impossible due to that sour expression of his.
The laughter of the scarred adventurers had stopped suddenly when the young man spoke. The Barkeep who was close-by could not help himself but reveal an ugly expression for the first time.
The Old man was indifferent, he had a pale face as if his soul was snatched away. Neither was the waitress or the knights in the corner, had an indifferent expression. Their eyes were fixed tightly into the young man's gaudy white scowl and his face covered by an expressionless facade.
Their expressions were filled with an unsettling dread.
There was silence. The laughter and rumblings of the people in the back were now gone.
The young man was unaware of it but all of them had started to back away as if to avoid an unforeseeable circumstance that the young man is about to bring in.
The old man shook his head. His eyes lost their light as he recalls a memory of his.
"N-No... W-We had enough..."
"... Huh?" The young man was taken aback by the old man's words. "Wh- What do you mean..."
The young man felt something grabbed his heart the moment he heard the old man.
He was, sure enough, would slap the old man in front of him if he refuses to speak of the happening within the Grimayus Valley. This was a piece of very important information. A chesspiece that would determine the fate of his town.
He had come from far lands, went through numerous ordeals and near-death situations with the Church Pursuers, and nearly rotted to death due to a mistake. He waited for the correct Stellar Formations in the area where the creep usually appears, for three years.
For three years and this is all he got?
Just when the young man about to take yet another pouch of gems. The old man started to shake.
His muscles tensed up and his mouth started to foam with bubbles.
It was serious.
The people in the back nor the bartender tended to him. They had no courage to lose and were afraid to come near him - the young man. He noticed all of this and stood from his place.
"Never..." The old man said while curling, it was evident that something had hurt him real bad from the aforementioned place. The young man was still in a daze. This was much serious than the ploy that they made.
"Never... Please."
"I- I don't wanna speak of that being- NO... I don't want to remember him. Not today, not tomorrow, and if possible, I'd like my memories of the past go." The old man hid his face between his palms as tears fell from his eyes. "Never. Never... Never. That existence... We had enough..! Even the Heroes are afraid of it- No. The scythe was... Too..."
"I'll pay your tabs with the Barkeep." The young man said out loud and fished yet another bag of gems. "I'm sure this wou-"
"NO!"
Death appeared inside the young man's sights, without any further hesitation, he rolled into the ground and braced for impact.
BOOOM!
The old man slammed the table with all of his force - destroying the isle in a moment's haste. The planks rolled and least hit anyone from the back. It was the young man and the bartender that got hit by the debris. Luckily, the young man had a thick cloak. None of the planks made serious damage over him.
For the bartender. He wasn't aware but a plank had already pierced his abdomen. No blood was spilled, neither the smell of iron. It was as if having a plank pierced through is a common occurrence.
The young man looked in terror.
It was a force to be reckoned with! That power was perhaps on par with the Church Chapel Masters! He stabilized himself before he encourages himself to stand up and gain the information he painstakingly needs.
He stood up and fixed the stool as he sat beside the panic-stricken old man yet again. He was still shaken by the display of power but he must press on.
He tried to speak but words caught up to him when he saw the dire expression of the old man.
He sat in silence.
Stillness dreaded over the bar yet again.
No one dared to speak nor let a single drop of sweat interrupt the silence. It was weird, if not, something that even the mightiest warrior would feel awkward in.
"A calamity... That is unheard of... Should remain unheard." The old man broke the silence through his teeth. "You- You should give up."
"Why-"
"GIVE UP!" The old man blared and slammed both of his hands into the young man.
The young man groaned, though it is heavy, it wasn't enough for him to break his bones. He only thought that the old man held most of his power, if not, he would be a brick paste before long.
The old man yet let a weak voice again. "Just... Give up."
"Stay away from Grimayus Valley. Travel through the seas, if you need to. Just give up on the Valley and run as far as you can." The barkeep couldn't help but interfere with a dark expression. "Not even us could handle such a threat in our prime."
The young man was confused. Why such behavior is shown when there was no evident threat in Grimayus Valley, other than the incompetent bastards who flee from the Kingdom of Arenessa to the Dutchy of Morlissno and the bandits, there were no Wyrmhunt level threats within.
Unless a Soileater Worm decides to make the whole Desolate lands of Grimayus Valley its territory..?
The young man was confused, but he did not let up and decided to wait for the old man to open up. He sat there alongside him. In silence, yet again.
He wasn't sure what to make out of it until the bartender gave him a look. His eyes switched back and forth from his pouch of gems and to the old man.
They had an understanding. He took out three pouches of gems out of his inventory and placed it on the laps of the old man.
"Will you..?" The young man said sincerely. "... Just think of your story as some rawgabbit. A lie for kids to behave."
"Never give up... Do you."
The old man finally caved in, he let out a dry exhalation before he took the pouches of gems and threw it into the bartender's face. "... Ask for a craftsman to fix your poor isle... My tab's done and all. Give us all the beer you have. The poor nitwits at the back are also included."
"You sure are generous after paying your ass up." The bartender squinted his eyes as he stared into the old man. "You sure about this?"
"Yeah... Damn it... This is a real pain." The old man groaned as he faced the young man. "A real pain..."
"Listen up, you shitty son of a goat... I have a story to tell you."