KMS S&S 0.0.3
[1331 words. cleaned up and expanded existing writing a little, should be able to move forward with story soonish.]
As the sun sank on its afternoon journey, the north road curved away from the eaves of the forest it had followed the past several days, turning toward the river Sandiri and the mountains beyond. There was a town nestled at the junction of road and river that had not appeared on the maps of the last dwarf to travel this way. It looked strange to Kermit's eye, which as she drew nearer she realised was due to an unfinished wall guarding the place, upon which the inhabitants were yet hard at work.
These facts encouraged her, as did the apparent humanity of the town's inhabitants; she had never had dealings with humans previously. When the road took her to a gate that would not be complete that night they implored her to stop and help. So she did, on condition of recommendation of somewhere she might pass the night (the first response, "Anywhere but here", she ignored for being impractical).
There were no tools spare, but Kermit got by with her own, so that was no trouble. All this rush of building was due, so her neighbours on the wall said, to vicious attacks that had begun just a few nights ago, with monsters lurching out of the darkness to attack the townsfolk each night.
"No, no, no," said one. "It was a week ago, when folk started going missing. Jim and the others."
Which prompted an argument about whether a couple of missing people counted as the beginning of this town's troubles, and concluding that of course not, they probably just ran off to avoid debts or similar.
Kermit was inclined to agree. A missing person was not a monster attack, and these monsters seemed notably bloodthirsty, attacking whoever they first encountered and everyone after that, until at some signal the townsfolk couldn't fathom they would disappear back into the night. Not the sort of creatures to stop at quietly vanishing one or two people.
What sort of creatures were they? All sorts. They came on four legs and two. Furry, scaly, shambly, they were twisted out of all alignment with nature and stronger than they had any right to be. Only a couple of times had the town militia succeeded in bringing any of them down, and then immediately upon being slain the creatures turned to ash. Or rotted away, or turned to smoke and mist, or they couldn't be killed and anyone who said otherwise was a liar. One thing everyone Kermit spoke to agreed on: these creatures and the town were bound together, and this wall was their best hope of breaking that bond.
Why is this town so suddenly beset by monsters? It was that witch passed through half a year ago, laid a curse on the town, clearly. Don't be silly, everyone knows to treat a witch with respect, and anyway why wait so long? Maybe someone was discourteous on the sly, and they had their time to make amends and didn't, dooming all the town. It's the spirits of the forest, who promised us a hundred years of prosperity and now time is up. It's an omen of war, coming back to these parts, the early tide of fate awaiting all who do not flee.
Kermit nodded to each of these explanations and others, in no position to judge one as more plausible than others. All the while she worked steadily on the stretch of wall and gate by her entrance, drawing what bit of strength from the earth she could muster to reinforce beyond the ability of human hands. She doubted that would make much immediate difference with lumber.
As evening fell so too did the number of townsfolk working at their new wall. Few it seemed found the collective defence of their home more urgent than their need to not be among the most inviting targets. When it became clear work was done for the night Kermit reclaimed her pack and set off for the inn most-mentioned by her neighbours.
* * *
The streets were more crooked than she liked, little windings and snaking curves, crooked and the occasional cul-de-sac confusing her. Never would have been allowed back home, she thought. Fortunately the place was not far and the windings not so serious as to lose her, and she found her way to the corner place just as the lights were being lit.
The Corner Place. That's what it was called. Odd name, Kermit thought. She couldn't decide if the proprieter were unimaginative, or clever about it. But she definitely did not approve of the haphazard table layout, or what she was almost sure were traces of grime on the windows. Never would have been allowed.
But she needed somewhere to sleep and this would surely be better than the road. Not too crowded, which perhaps was understandable given the town's monster problem. A scattering of humans, who might well have been locals, and in one corner an elf, who was likely no more a local than Kermit herself, all eating their evening meals. A woman who Kermit supposed to be the proprieter approached her immediately.
"What's it like out there, still quiet? Wall up yet?"
Kermit nodded. "Quiet. Wall's not finished. Helped where I could on my way in."
Not best news to bring. The woman bolted and braced the door behind Kermit. "Hope you're planning on staying the night."
"What if I can't afford it?"
No response, just the shuttering and boarding of the one remaining clear window in the common room. It was a big, flat lump of wood that had been on the floor beside the window; Kermit figured it must have been taken down during the day to let some light in.
Finally she turned back to Kermit. "Dinner?"
"Please."
That turned out not to be Kermit's best decision. The Corner Place evidently did not often enjoy the custom of beings that needed sustenance to live; all that could be found for Kermit was water and a couple of small, dry fruitcake things that crumbled when touched, same as the elf was having, and which had probably been in storage for years. She was only just gathering her courage to try one when it stopped being quiet out there.
First footsteps, then yelling. The sounds of steel on flesh, claws on flesh. Guards and desperate or spirited townsfolk battling the nightly horde.
It went on, and no one dared eat meanwhile. Most of those who had been still in the common were gathering to the back, where the stairs were, fearful eyes fixed upon the door. Some ventured to creep upstairs already; Kermit thought that sensible of them.
The sound of fighting quieted, but not much. Something tried the door, found it locked, and began hurling itself bodily against the wood. Then the sound grew, another creature joining it. Alternating, so that the door sounded almost continuously with a deep thud, and after that the thuds were accompanied by ominous sounds of splintering. Kermit took up the hammer she had laid beside her and stepped cautiously toward the door.
With a loud crack the door burst open. In the doorway stood a creature on four legs as tall as the people of this town; with its antlered head Kermit would have called it a deer, except she had never heard of any deer with such fiercely bladed teeth, nor hide so rough and knobbled like armour. The beast gave a menacing snort, reared upon its hind legs, kicked the door's remnants against a wall and charged at Kermit.
She readied her hammer to angle through a gap in the antlers and strike at its skull. But, as she swung, a wind rushed through her hair and ruffled her clothing, catching the beast full-on, lifting and throwing it against a wall of the inn. Kermit's swing met only empty air.
A glance behind her showed the elf standing, aiming her spear at the fallen creature.
