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The Zagorski Chronicles
Arthur’s Story: The Golem

Arthur’s Story: The Golem

Sizzling steak hits the counter, its savory smell contrasts pleasantly against the floral scents of the outdoors. The sounds of clinking glasses and tankards can be heard throughout the bustling tavern as drinks are shared between friends and acquaintances alike. In a corner of the tavern, adjacent to the bar, a minstrel plays his song, drowned out by laughter and the conversations of people ignorant to his words. A small brown pouch bearing gold and silver coins is knocked from one of the many round wooden tables that are scattered across the tavern, spilling its contents as a man of scrawny stature tries to reclaim his lost possessions to a round of poker. Activities continue as a worker appears from behind the receptionist; she wears a tired expression on her face, with a laggard in each step. The “Bounty Board” is updated, plastered with a notice: “Wanted, Lychnis Golem. Reward 500,000 Stracc-Coin.”

"Five-hundred thousand? Is it really worth that much for something a Stracceampal can defeat?" questions a nearby patron.

Stracceampals, stram for short, are a humanoid race, typically smaller than humans, who have similar characteristics to animals, depending on the region it can differ in animal types.

People who gathered around the board began to talk among themselves.

“Isn’t that the town that was recently ravaged?” A patron asked aloud.

Another responded, “Yeah, heard a majority of the town was destroyed.”

In the midst of the commotion, a boy with strange attire enters the tavern and takes a seat at the counter. Curious eyes linger their sights on the young man, trying to figure out what his deal is. He’s not a regular.

“Ay, what’s the drink of the day?” The boy questioned, sitting down on a bar stool.

Although exhausted from this evening's round of customers, the barkeep lends the boy his attention.

"Aren't you a bit young to be drinking, lad?" asks the barkeep.

“Not by my standards.” The boy placed his crest on the counter.

The barkeep looked for a moment, “Looks noble enough for me.” He shrugged. He places a bottle in front of the kid.

“This really all yawl got?” He asked, faced filled with disappointment, “Fine. Gimme the day’s special as well.”

The barkeep grunts, "Ugh, yeah, fine. BRANDEN, TWO GNEL EGGS ON FIRE AGAIN. Is that all?" The boy nods and replies, "All right."

The food is carelessly thrown in front of the boy, causing a small mixture of meat, gravy, and potatoes to splatter on his shirt. He quietly curses under his breath, as some of the hot meal lands on his hand.

"What the hell man! You could have placed it down easier" the boy exclaims, annoyed with the barkeeps attitude.

The barkeep chuckles, a few on-looking patrons also laugh among themselves

"Whatever. Jackass." the boy mutters to himself, as he hastily devours his food. While still recovering from the embarrassment, the boy finds his eyes wandering, looking for something to distract himself with, finally setting sights on a board along one of the sides of the tavern. Mouth still full, he asks aloud “Wuts dat?” particles of food spilling from his mouth with every word.

“Bounty. Something big, near the half-million mark. Heard it destroyed a town not too far from here. This one here, actually.” He pointed to the map on the wall behind him.

The boy finishes chewing, stopping for a moment as he processes what the man had just told him, "Really? Five-hundred thousand? Maybe I should go check it out myself, then." he thinks to himself aloud.

The barkeep laughs, "You think you can take on a platinum bounty? You must be either very delusional or just stupid."

“A lot of people say both, surprisingly.” He said, standing up and then slinging the gold he needed to pay, “You can go ahead and pick that up.” He went ahead and ditched him running over to the board, shifting through the crowd of people. Once Arthur reached the bounty board he began to skim through its contents with the intent to find the Lychnis Golem's last known whereabouts, and after a quick read-through, he set off out of the tavern.

He pulled out his map and compass, read the latter, and thought to himself, “E-ah-st?” He was barely able to read either of them. Arthur figured it out eventually as he fumbled his items back into his bag. The boy focused on his breathing for a moment, his eyes closed as he steps once. He used magicka release, a magic used for short bursts of pushing, which can be used as a way to move faster with each step.

It was a technique developed long ago by people in the capital of Xumuisha, the dragon empire, for sports. He’s just taken it to another level.

As Arthur arrived, a ravine was in front of him, it wasn’t organic, scorch marks and rubble still slowly falling was a clear indicator.

“Damn… Almost fell.” He thought, looking down as he passed, getting vertigo in the process.

The boy stood before what was rocks and debris, and in reality it was once a town not even three days beforehand. He climbed over rubble, went down still standing alley ways, explored the area before him.

He came to a crossroad in an alley way, the howling of wind was faint but heard. It felt desolate. He finally reached the actual cross road, where several buildings met. He looked around deciding which way to go when suddenly the smell of burning flesh caught his nose.

“Dear Mercy… what is that smell?” He was disgusted by it.

Before he knew it, he felt a strong heat from above him. Molten metal trickled from above like blood of a wounded animal, he finally looked up. It was a golem, and it was falling.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“SHIT!” Was his first instinct before backing up.

The golem fell directly where he was previously standing. It fell so hard it was wedged into the ground, the construct’s limbs subtly jolt to life from its uncomfortable position, knocking a few flowers loose. Its jaw, tethered by a sinuous tendon, begins to move. A low rumbling emanates from the golem, followed by a strained, somewhat raspy, mechanical voice, "You are not a stram? You are human. We assume you are here for the old Golem." Its words are distorted, difficult to understand.

"The hell? You can speak?" the boy shouted in utter disbelief.

The construct grunted, as if offended by the remark. "Yes."

Arthur attempts to contain his laughter from the troubled construct, but the golem can tell the young boy finds its predicament very comical.

“Need some help there?” The boy asked.

“Why would you want to help us?” The golem retorted, suspicious of the boy that stood before it.

Arthur shrugged before walking towards the golem, now resting in collapse. He examined its body before finding a small gap to fit his hands into, gripping tightly.

The golem didn’t make an effort to resist, accepting that there is nothing a kid can do to embarrass it further.

“Three, two, one.” Arthur whispered to himself.

A lighter mechanical whir emitted from the golem’s mouth. “What are you-”, the golem is interrupted as Arthur heaves with all of his might to hoist the golem out of the ground.

The sharp sound of metal and wood wrenching against each other filled the ruins, becoming more and more high pitched as the tension in the iron increased.

The golem screeched, “AAÆEE!” as its lower body was yanked from the ground.

Arthur groaned, his muscles strained from lifting the large, immense construct, “Just sit still!” he shouted, realizing this task will be harder than he had initially thought, “It’ll only take a second!”

Twenty agonizing seconds had passed before Arthur finally extracted the golem from its half buried, pathetic state.

The golem was “fixed” for now. “I’ve never seen a human want to help a hulking golem before.” the construct said, stunned by the boy’s eagerness to assist it.

“Better? Although, you are missing some… stuff.”

The golem tried to laugh, but only produced a strained choking wheeze as blood congealed in its throat.

“ÆE… Yes, we are better, not stuck. Why did you help us?” The golem asked.

“I dunno, just seemed like the right thing to do.” Arthur admitted, while searching for any ‘misplaced’ parts of the old construct.

“Æ… Strange reason, and we are grateful regardless” The golem was amused at the kid’s words.

Arthur paused, caught in his own thoughts. Finally, he said, “You’re not the problem here, are you? You just aren’t very threatening.”

The golem felt its pride crumble even more. “...Aye.” the golem confirmed, “We are hiding, strams hunt us. Turn us to flesh. Kill us.”

“Flesh, huh?” Arthur said to himself, as he gathered what parts he could find in a pile before the golem, “I doubt I found them all, but I hope it’s enough.”

“It’ll do.”

The golem placed a hand above the pile, as each stone and piece of debris that was once a part of the golem begin to rise. They gently returned to their places across the construct’s body, melding, merging back into with what remained. Steam dissipated from the cracks as the golem became whole again.

“AÆEHMmm… Now we are better, WAY better!” It took a moment to continue talking, “What’d you come here for, lad?”

“I did come here for a bounty,” he paused for a moment, “But you’re not worth trouble if I don’t get to have any fun with it.” He chuckled.

The golem tilted its head slightly at the comment, “Ah, you’re one of those. A hotblooded fighter, huh?”

“Aye.” He confirmed.

There was a pause. A quick mechanical clicking emitted from the chest cavity of the golem. “ÆMm. Then we have something you’d like.” the golem said, releasing steam from its cracked figure.

“Really?” Arthur said, interested in what the golem had to offer, “What do you have that I’d want?”

The golems' jaw twitched slightly, “A job.”

Arthur cracked a smile, innocent and passionate, “If that’s the case, the names Arthur Zagorski.”

This name resonated with the golem. “Zagorski, huh?” he said, raising an eyebrow. “A little impulsive, aren’t we?” The golem emitted an unnerving chittering sound, as if chuckling to itself.

There was a palpable silence in the air. Arthur assumed a less relaxed posture, he was on edge. “What’s the catch?”

The golems' eyes light up, as he perks up with anticipation. “Ah, nothing really. You’ll get the money while we get the cred-”

“Fine.” Arthur said, cutting him off, “How much?”

“Seven-hundred-thousand Stracc–Coins. We’ll even throw in something extra to get you a better kitchen knife-, We mean sword.”

Arthur unsheathed the old, rusted sword. The tip was curled, the edge was chipped, and the hilt shook with every swing. “Nawt that bad, does its job.” He said, as the hilt finally gave in and detached spectacularly.

There was a second of silence between the two before the broken hilt hit the ground with an unceremonial thud.

The golem laughed, “Sure.”

“So, what’s the job?”

“You’re going to kill another golem, a bastard named ‘Jutel’. He’s been tarnishing our name… for a long time.”

“That would prove him right, no?”

The golem approached Arthur, seemingly angered by this remark; each step he took cracked the earth beneath him with a thunderous impact. He towered over the boy, and for a moment, Arthur even feels intimidated. “Aye, but it was never about being right, Arthur.” the golem looked down on Arthur with radiant red eyes, “Only that we will remain and he will be forgotten.”

Arthur steps back for a moment and turns around, placing his bag next to a wall and rummaging through it, pulling a map out “So where is the asshole?” Arthur waited for a moment before turning around. “Hel-?”

He turned around and nothing was there, only a note reading:

“We have something to do, kid. Really important. It will be a while before we come back, but we’ll track you down nonetheless.

The other golem was last seen around the north-west part of the Ay’it mountain range.

Cheers.

* R”

"Damn." Arthur thought to himself as he read the note. With little information to go on, he sat down, took a map out of his bag, and began skimming over the towns in the north-western range nearby.

He had figured out which town he needed to stop by and chose the fastest route: The White Blood Cedar Trail.

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