Pitt wandered into town about an hour after finding the wrecked wagons. He headed for the local inn so he could get something to eat and drink. He was headed home. He doubted the Circle, or any cleric worth their salt, would let the road be closed for long.
Whatever was wrecking things would be stopped once they got on the job and hacked it to pieces.
He settled on a bench at the end of a table with a bunch of other people who might also be travelers who wanted to go the other way. He listened to the complaints of being stuck in town because of whatever was guarding the river.
He decided it was best to say nothing. He didn't want to get involved in a monster hunt with a bunch of amatuers. He expected a lot of them had never seen a monster, much less fought one. He wasn't going to encourage them to try.
Too many people thought fighting monsters was like fighting people, or regular animals. They weren't prepared for the open hostility a monster had for anything coming into its territory that didn't act as food.
Pitt waved at one of the maids working the room. He wanted something light to eat, and a cup of whatever drink they were serving. Then he planned to keep moving on before he was roped into hunting whatever was blocking the road.
“Hello,” said the maid. She frowned at Pitt. “What can I do for you?”
“Could I have a plate of the house special, and a cup of whatever to drink?,” asked Pitt. “I just got in and I didn't see a sign to say what you were serving today.”
“It won't be much,” said the maid. “We're running short on supplies because of the ferry being down. I'll see what I can do.”
“Thanks,” said Pitt. He leaned away from the table. He watched her leave. He tried not to listen to the grumbling going on around him. He wanted to eat without having to knock someone silly.
He saw a lot of people looking for an excuse to do something stupid. He didn't want to be the man to give them a reason.
“How did you get here?,” a man on his right asked.
“I walked,” said Pitt. He knew that was a mistake. The guy looked belligerent. Answering him had given him someone to vent on.
And Pitt didn't care enough about the other man's problems to listen to his whining.
“No horse?,” asked the man.
“No horse,” agreed Pitt. Go away before I do something stupid.
“What are you doing here?,” asked the man. He leaned in close to look at Pitt's face.
“I'm heading home,” said Pitt. “What are you doing here?”
“My goods were destroyed and I can't go home until I figure out a way to get my stake back,” said the man. “And it doesn't look like I'll be able to do that here.”
“White Plains is rebuilding,” said Pitt. “They might need another set of hands to help out.”
“That plague hole?,” said the man. “Who would want to go there?”
“I just know they just fought off a demon horde, and the city is partially wrecked,” said Pitt. “They will want anyone to help them while they are trying to get things back together.”
“That's not for me,” said the stranger. “Why aren't you working for them if it's such a good job?”
“Because I am going home,” said Pitt.
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His words turned the man to talking to his other neighbors. That was fine with Pitt. He didn't need to argue the virtue of moving rocks with someone he didn't know.
And the less said, the less angry he was going to be by the time his food arrived.
He shouldn't have stopped at the Inn. He should have kept walking. He cursed himself for listening ot his stomach when he should be making his way from the demon wrecked city to his Highlands.
The maid returned with his food. She put it gently on the table in front of him. He sniffed it with pleasure.
“I'll be right back with your cup,” the maid said. She walked through the crowd toward the bar.
Pitt picked at the food with his knife while he waited for his drink to arrive. He smiled at the taste. He decided that if bad things happened, the food made up for it.
“Here you go,” said the maid. She placed the cup on the table in front of him.
He handed her a coin for her trouble. She looked at it in amazement. He shook his head to stop her from saying anything. She put the coin in her apron and walked away.
Pitt enjoyed the meal as much as he could. The only thing that would have made it better was the absence of the people around him. He couldn't blame them for being cabin crazy if they had been stuck in town thanks to the monster. He just didn't want to hear it.
He finished the food and waved his cup for more drink. The beer was strong, but it would need to be a lot more to stop him. His tolerance for alcohol was at the high end of the poison spectrum.
He blamed it on his gift. He reckoned that at some point, he would be immune to every poison in the world due to his blood just fighting the toxins without him lifting a finger.
It would be a sad day indeed when he couldn't enjoy his beer.
He nodded at the maid when she arrived with a fresh cup of drink. He handed her the empty plate and cup to take with her. She nodded. She took the dirty things back to the kitchen.
Pitt sipped his drink. Everything felt better with a bit of food inside of you. He thought he could get back on the road after he finished his drink. He still had plenty of miles to go.
Maybe he should think about getting a horse to ride.
He stood when he had finished drinking. He placed the cup on the table and headed for the door. The faster he headed away from the inn, the less likely he would run into something who hated him. Then he could leave word at the next town about getting someone important down there to take care of the monster.
A group of knights should be able to handle anything trying to stop them from reopening the ferry. After that, whomever wanted to win the most would. He wouldn't be around to worry about it.
If the Brotherhood was still around, a force of them would have come to town as soon as they had word, and scoured it for the beast. Then they would kill the thing, or send it running so it couldn't hurt anyone else around the town.
He should do the same on his own, but he didn't want to get involved. He wondered where this resistance to protecting other people came from after all this time. He had already spent most of his life ridding the world of things too dangerous to be allowed to run loose.
He put it down to time turning him into a curmudgeon. He seemed to remember a time he had been eager to fight anything that crossed his path. He had lost that spark somewhere.
And he still had to deal with things whenever Montague snatched him from his home and dropped him who knew where.
He could do without that.
“Are you leaving?,” asked the maid as Pitt reached the front door.
“Yep,” said Pitt. “My wife is waiting for me. It was a good meal. Thank you.”
He stepped outside and looked around. He needed to take a new bearing and start walking. He should see his mountains in the distance before too long.
It would be great to sit in his old chair once more.
A roar filled the air. Birds flew up away from trees at the sound. Pitt looked around for the source. It looked like he wouldn't be heading away from the village soon enough.
He couldn't remember seeing any weapons on the people in the inn. A sword, or axe, would be great at the moment.
He didn't care about what he might be facing. He was confident in his ability to kill it. He had already killed so many monsters, what was one more?
He decided to head toward the water. The thing seemed to like to wreck things close to the river. Maybe it had found something to crush.
If he could get it to go down the river and away from the ferry station, that was a win for all sides. He just didn't think that would happen.
Monsters that got big enough to claim a hunting ground usually didn't run from anything that looked like a challenge. They preferred to attack and kill anything in their space.
A lone man on the road wouldn't look like much of a challenge so he doubted he could persuade it to do what he wanted until he demonstrated his strength. A fight might still happen despite clearly being stronger.
Some monsters just weren't that bright.