1 Degree

It’s one degrees Fahrenheit, not Celsius, I never learned Celsius. I went to public school in America and in my adult life never bothered to learn. I even had to ‘Google’ how to spell Fahrenheit. I never need to spell Fahrenheit. It sounds germen but I think the Germans use Celsius, that was another thing I never bothered to learn, I had to Google it, I didn’t google it.

            Google, a verb, to search something on the search engine Google. Google helps people find answers, there is no reason for ignorance in the era of search engines. People don’t remember, I don’t remember, I don’t need to, I can Google it.

            I use Google weather on my phone and it tells me its 1 Degrees Fahrenheit. The normal dull ache in my bones worsens to a searing pain as I struggle to get up out of bed. Not struggle like “I need my coffee in the morning or I’m a monster hahaha” I mean struggle like physically difficult to stand. I pour my neatly sorted pile of pills into the cup of my hand, I slam my hand against my mouth as the pills shoot into the back of my throat. I need them to be in my blood stream now but they won’t. I type next to a frozen window, cold medicine pumping into my bloodstream, traveling through my body like tree roots down into the earth. I have a pill for everything, It costs thousands of dollars to keep me alive and the tax payers pay it. Most wouldn’t, I think most would be happy to let sick people die as long as they did so outside their field of view.

I sway back and forth in my chair, the gentle movement of the muscles seems add some relief to my tortured spine.  Inside my body it is 100 degrees Fahrenheit and outside it is only 1.

            People with harder jobs than mine are going to work at earlier times than I do. I tell myself that they don’t have the pain I have, I hope its true because it makes me feel less shitty about succumbing to pain.

            There is a phrase in my head that I tell myself when it comes to work. “People can tell you they are dependable, but it takes actions to prove it”. This phrase is a double edged sword, it reminds me to prove my value but also is daunting when I am unable. I don’t remember where this phrase came from, it feels like something my dad said when I first started working, but it could just as easily been something my brother said or something I made up entirely based on my own experiences. This sentence has followed me longer than I can remember and pushed me even when I didn’t know it was there.

            One of my first jobs I pushed myself too hard, I gave the company all of my energy to prove I could be part of a team and in the end they fired me as soon as I was too sick to work. I worked myself to sickness and they threw me away. Years later I am starting a job and have hope again for the first time and yet I can’t bring myself to go. Pain and anxiety surge through me, fighting against my medicine, the winter winds blow through and creatures die from exposure.

            I never learned how to behave as an adult, I just watched my dad and made the rest of as I went. He never had illnesses like I do, but I try to be dependable anyway, with my actions. You can’t google how to be a good human or how to see the balance between working hard and over working. They don’t teach these things in school, they teach advanced math that no one remembers and history that I only remember because some of it was interesting.

Some days life is hard and its 1 degree outside.

Winter for Conspirators Part 2

            Delana ruled over Jillian’s heart in the way that Jillian ruled over the battlefield. She fought with her soft green eyes and red hair, her summer dresses and talent for making Jill blush.  Delana was always the first one to turn any situation into a joke and loved to laugh. The only time Jillian ever saw Delana cry was on their last day together when Delana, frightened by the power of the Vanguard, made Jill choose between her or the Vanguard armor.

            The Vanguard now fought for her life in the fortress of the deceased General Durm. Every soldier in the meeting room rushed the Ebon knight while a servant boy ran to alert the rest of the soldiers in the keep. News of General Durm’s death spread like fire and soon the entire fortress had transformed into a hive of angry bees.

            Blood painted the walls with each swing of the Vanguard’s axe. Jillian wielded her two-handed battle-axe with both hands. She would normally flail her large weapon around with one hand but her rash decision making led to a very dire situation and she would need her full effort to escape alive.

            Axes, spears and swords charged into the small room, stabbing, thrusting and slashing at the demon knight. Jillian had incredible reflexes, speed and strength but was so surrounded that even she couldn’t avoid taking damage. Blood began to trickle from the gaps in her armor, spotting the floor and mixing with the pool of soldier blood forming at her feet.

            She rushed forward with her axe, he eyes burning red and her black armor lit up with fiery runes. Her helmet was still on the table from the meeting minutes before. Jillian reached for the helmet as she pushed her way through the room and the helmet jumped into her outstretched hand. She slammed her helmet over her head causing more runes to scrawl across the armor. The Vanguard began emitting a blazing heat as well and the soldiers felt like they were fighting next to a roaring bonfire.

            Through the enchantments of the armor, the wearer is always stronger when wearing the complete set. Now that Jillian had her helmet she was even more of an unnatural force. The Vanguard swung her axe back and forth as she pushed forward. Each axe swing was like a farmer cutting down wheat for the harvest, each harvest a bloody soldier.

            Jillian’s blood stopped dripping from the armor and instead was being absorbed by the black enchanted metal. Her blood was feeding the power of the Vanguard armor and the more wounded she became, the stronger she grew. The armor fed on the blood of its host and of the victims as their bodies fell. The armor wasn’t keeping Jillian alive in any way and she could die from blood loss if she wasn’t careful. When she reached her peak frenzy, she would stop feeling pain and only rage would exist in her mind.

            Corpses tumbled down the stairs into the main room of the keep as the Vanguard tore through the ranks of Durm Fortress. The Vanguard was like a nightmare made real, a demon pulled from the earth to smite the human race and still the soldiers fought on. The soldiers didn’t know of General Durm’s treachery, they didn’t know that the Vanguard was indeed hired by the King and so they thought they were fighting a great evil. They fought and died for their King and land and Jillian didn’t have the time or mental capacity to explain otherwise.

            “You are a monster!” Shouted a terrified soldier as he slashed wildly with his sword. Most of the slices clanked uselessly against the Vanguard’s powerful armor but the sword strikes that hit between the gaps made Jillian bleed her life force down into the greedy maw of the dark armor.

“You’re a monster” Cried another voice. This wasn’t a soldier, it was a voice inside Jillian’s head. Delana sat crumpled over on the grass as she sobbed. “You’re a monster” she cried. That was the first time Jillian went into a frenzy.

Jillian blacked out and when she came to her senses she had massacred a group of militiamen.

Several of the militia had been too forceful while trying to flirt with Delana. Jillian arrived on the scene to see her love struggling to leave as the men pulled on Delana’s arm and laughed. Jillian blacked out and in her frenzy carved them all up and her armor drank their blood. When Jillian heard Delana call her a monster she was struck with a pain that she had not felt before or since.

Jillian had been hurt in a thousand different ways since that day and hearing Delana’s words was still the worst thing she experienced.

            The sadness of that moment tore through her mind like daggers and the rage in Jillian swelled. The loneliness, the heartache and the loss would all be rolled into a ball of anger and forced onto the soldiers of Durm’s fortress who thought they were fighting for their King.

            The Vanguard made it out of the keep and into the courtyard when her blood loss began to slow her movements. Archers rained arrows down from the guard towers set up along the walls. “Close the gates!” Shouted the captain of the guards. The soldiers surrounded Jillian as the arrows continued to fall. The Vanguard lashed out with slow powerful axe swings, each swing sent out a burst of flames that would burn up arrows and scorch exposed skin. Magical flames would burst out from the runes on the armor with each step the Vanguard took. The armor wasn’t sentient but the magic in the armor was enhanced by blood and at that moment the armor was drenched in it.

            Jillian’s vision started to blur as she rushed forward. Jillian stopped moving but the armor continued expelling bursts of flames from everywhere and her axe burned with molten heat. The Vanguard was drenched in blood, covered in wounds, with arrows sticking out of her. The soldiers began to feel that they won and began to cheer.

Then the Vanguard shook and launched forward in a dead sprint. The dark knight moved like a bolt of lighting, ran straight into the gate and collided into the massive door with enough force to cause a shockwave. A loud boom and a shockwave was sent up into the archer towers toppling the soldiers from their perch. The Gate cracked open just enough and the Vanguard continued its mad dash to escape. A giant hole was torn through the metal gate, the edges of the hole were burnt from heat, bent back and curled up as if the metal was as flexible as clay.

Durm fortress was left in ruin, trails of bodies and smearing of blood ran through the halls. The Vanguard was nowhere to be seen. That was the historic day in the Kingdom when the record number of soldiers, knights, guards and servants all quit their post at the same time.

            The treachery against the King never came to pass and without General Durm the conspirators disbanded. The King publicly denounced the actions of the Vanguard but was secretly grateful for disposing of General Durm and those loyal to him.

            As for the Vanguard, she never reported in to the King, she never spoke to his advisor and no one in that Kingdom reported seeing a fierce black knight.

While the legend of the Vanguard would grow in that land for years to come, the fate of the actual Jillian Cole would remain a mystery.

Winter for Conspiritors

            The first snow of winter had finally settled over the land and the Vanguard knew she was running short on time. It had been several months since she had slain Captain Humford and his cowardly nobles. She could kill a room of people without breaking a sweat but rooting out treachery and hidden plots was not her strong point. She requested permission from the King to behead every noble in court but was quickly denied. The treasonous wolves hid among the flock of sheep and the Vanguard lacked the subtly required to find a wolf without killing a flock of sheep.

            The Vanguard’s black metal boots crunched down on the fallen snow as she approached a large fortress in the northern part of the kingdom. Jillian Cole, the Vanguard, heard only whispers of treason during her travels and the only solid lead she had was the word of a cowering noble. The coward accused General Durm of being the leader of the traitors, but Jillian didn’t think it was wise to just burst in and start lobbing off heads. So the Vanguard approached the fortress of General Durm with her helmet off. She hoped that the general would see Jillian as a person and maybe let his guard down. She only needed him to slip up once and then she could put her helmet back on and do what she felt the most comfortable doing, removing heads from bodies.

            Jillian marched up to the gate of Durm Fortress. She had a confident stride, with her helmet tucked under her arm and her double-sided axe, strapped to her back. she had an assortment of large deadly weapons and while she wished she could bring them all, she knew it would be difficult to be diplomatic while carrying an armory on her back.

            As the Vanguard approached the large gate a man shouted from atop the stone wall “State your name and business here!” the guard’s voice was stern and Jillian could tell he was on edge. “I am an ambassador of the King, seeking an audience with General Durm” Jillian called back. The Vanguard’s mannerisms matched someone who had been in the military for years. In most situations her tone made her sound rigid or unfriendly but she had the perfect tone for speaking with members of the military.

            Without another word from the guards the gates opened. Jillian marched forward towards the keep. Her face was confident and cold but her mind was racing. Even at this late stage of her plan, she wasn’t sure what she would say to General Durm. As her body marched forward, her mind went back to her early years. Jillian Cole’s father would have known what to do in a situation like this. Jillian’s father, Jeriah Cole, was a silver-tongued devil who could get out of any situation with words. Jillian was more like her mother and grandfather, both great warriors who had slain hundreds of soldiers in their day.

            Jillian shook the thoughts from her head. “I don’t need to worry, this General Durm is a military man, he is most likely gruff and old. And since he is a traitor he is also probably arrogant. I am sure he will slip up, then I can slay him and go home to my books and wine” Jillian thought. Her eyes flashed with determination as she hastened her step.

            The door to the keep opened just as the Vanguard approached. To her surprise a smiling older man emerged from the entrance.
“I heard the Vanguard was approaching my fortress and my men panicked!” The man chuckled as he exclaimed. This was General Durm, a slender man in his fifties. His hair was black with gray on the back and sides. He had a trimmed beard, brown eyes and a slender face. His welcoming smile belied the true deadliness of his character.

“I honestly expected fire and brimstone, not a beautiful woman” Durm said as he gestured to the door. Jillian curled her mouth into a sneer but then relaxed her face. “It is good to meet you General Durm. I was raised to properly introduce ones self before entering their home. I am Jillian Cole, Ambassador for the king. I am also known as the Vanguard, but this is not Vanguard business, this is the King’s business” Jillian replied stiffly.

General Durm’s smile grew wider “Yes of course! So rude of me. I am General Theodore Durm. Would you please join me in the keep so we can discuss business?” he asked as he gestured again to the door. Jillian nodded and proceeded forward.  

            Inside the keep was a large room made of stone with plaster walls, each wall painted with colorful paintings. The middle wall in the far back had a picture of General Durm sticking a sword into a knight of the rival kingdom. Jillian had killed more than her share of people but didn’t find it necessary to paint a picture about it. The main room of the keep was clean and well lit with torches and a few window slits in the back. “I have won so many battles for the King that he allowed me to construct my own fortress. I have added many of my own details to this structure. The beautiful artwork, a few trap doors and an armory grand enough to make even the King’s armorer jealous!” the general boasted. Jillian nodded her head and winced at Durm’s bragging. Jillian was led through the main hall, up a set of stairs and into a smaller room. This looked to be a meeting room, well lit, with sturdy tables and chairs. Armed and armored guards followed closely behind Jillian as she was taken through the keep. 

            Jillian began to recall memories of when she was a little girl, all of the bragging and bluster was reminiscent of her father’s friends. Nobles and military leaders would boast about their accomplishments while Jillian played soldier with her wooden swords. A man named Arthur Delmont was one such friend and bragged almost as much as General Durm. It was at this early age that Jillian knew she didn’t want to be a noble lady. 

            Jeriah tried to teach little Jillian everything he knew about politics but the lessons fell on deaf ears. It wasn’t until she was the age of fifteen that she started to pay attention to the lessons the nobles taught. It was at this point when Arthur Delmont and his noble friends turned on Jillian’s father. One day their friendly smiles vanished and they convinced the Lord of the land that Jeriah Cole was guilty of treason. The noble men and women then tried to seize all they could from Jeriah. Jillian remembered that lesson and distrusted the rich and powerful ever since.

            General Durm finally sat down at his large meeting table. Jillian’s mind was brought back to the present. She smiled and nodded at whatever inane thing the general was talking about and he returned with a pleased smile.

            Jillian pulled the wooden chair out, her metal boots clanked against the stone floor. She sat down with a heavy thud “As lovely as your keep is and as much as I loved our conversation, I must discuss our business” Jillian said, still trying to be diplomatic. Durm gestured his hand for her to continue. “The King is concerned about the killing of Captain Humford and several noble men. He wants to make sure his MOST trusted allies are safe and accounted for” Jillian said with fake concern in her voice. General Durm’s expression brightened further. “I will admit, you had me worried. When the Vanguard approaches your keep, the mind assumes the worst. It is so encouraging to hear that both the King and the legendary Vanguard are concerned about me and the leaders of this land” General Durm said as he ran his fingers through his chin beard.

            Jillian flinched as she felt an old memory scratching at the back of her mind. A half forgotten thought, buried in time trying to claw its way from the depths. She felt dread and sick but didn’t know why. “I am very secure and comfortable as you can see. Now if I may ask, why was the Vanguard sent with this message and not an ordinary envoy?” Durm asked as he continued to fidget with his facial hair. Jillian didn’t answer, her face went pale as her mind raced. “W-what?” Jillian said as she stared at Durm with an unusual intensity. General Durm repeated his question as his fidgeting grew worse. 

“Everyone has a tell. You can never trust ‘Uncle’ Delmont when he fidgets with his beard!” Laughed Jeriah Cole. Nine-year-old Jillian laughed along with her father as Delmont sighed.
  Jillian snapped to her senses as she glared across the table at General Durm. “Uncle Delmont?” Jillian said, her words poured from her mouth like bile. General Durm froze and his face went pale. “Who is that, my dear?” Durm asked nervously.

            The pieces all fit together in her mind. Years of age, stress and battle marked Delmont’s face, he changed his name, he was promoted through the military ranks and now after all this time, he was sitting across from Jillian. The most twisted part was that Arthur Delmont was like a brother to Jeriah and the closest thing to family Jillian had at that point. He was also the traitorous snake who killed her father and was now a prime suspect in trying to overthrow the King.

            Jillian stopped thinking, she stopped reasoning, she was no longer an envoy to the King or a diplomat trying her best, she was The Vanguard. Jillian’s eyes burned fiery red and in the blink of an eyes had jumped up from her chair, pulled her axe from the straps on her back was now moving toward the snake known as General Durm.

With one hand Jillian swung her axe. With that axe she sliced through any chance at subtly just as she sliced through General Durm's neck.
The head of general Durm had a shocked expression, the same shocked expression as every guard and soldier in the room.

  Unquenchable blood thirst and rage flowed through the Vanguard at that moment. She had just murdered a military general inside of his own fortress, a fortress full of battle tested soldiers and would now need every ounce of strength to make it out alive.

The Vanguard part 2 of 2

   Jill was so angry from her conversation that morning she was hardly watching where she was going. Her steps were interrupted as she tried to put on her last armored boot. She hopped on one foot as she slid the armor over her leather boot. Just as she was fully armored up she fell forward into a group of travelers. These ‘travelers’ looked more liked bandits or thugs. Jill had the best luck.

            “Watch it girlie” Said a large brutish man. “Easy, Trom” Said a hooded man in the group. Trom, the large man, smiled “No, we have been walking for days and out of all the space in these mountains this clumsy girl falls right on us” Trom replies. “She has some nice armor. I think it would look better on me” said a girl brandishing two daggers. “Listen we have work to do and robbing one lone soldier isn’t part of our plan” said the hooded man. “Well majority rules, Locke. Who else thinks we should make this clumsy bitch pay for crashing into me?” asked Trom as he raised his hand. The dagger girl raised her hand, Lock, the cloaked man, just glared from under his hood and the fourth member of the party a silent man with a spear also raised his hand.

            “Just run, get out of here” Said Locke. Jill was angry and now had someone to take her aggression out on. “No way, this fat tub called me a bitch” Jill replied. “You three will be lucky to leave here with your spines intact” 

            The spearman lunged forward at Jillian. He wore a blue bandana, blue baggy pants, sandals, no shirt and was very tan. His spear looked like it was for hunting and not something a soldier would carry. Jill swatted the spear away as it flew straight at her. The force of her gauntlet smacking the spear away knocked the hunting spear out of the man’s hands. The assassin girl spun and slashed with her daggers. Jill reacted quickly, so quickly that she either had amazing reflexes or she could slow down time. Jill ducked to dodge the blades and then gave an uppercut punch to the assassin’s jaw. Bones cracked and teeth shattered under the force of Jill’s armored fist. While Jill was busy delivering an uppercut, Trom swung his hammer right into Jill's left side. She was knocked sideways from the force of the hammer strike.

            The assassin clutched her broken jaw. She couldn’t talk to reply but went after Jill while she was down. Locke moved in quickly and pulled a cutlass out from under his cloak. He moved in front of the assassin and blocked her daggers before she could strike out with them. “Don’t do this” Locke warned. The assassin’s face squished up into a horrible glare and then she tried to stab Lock in the stomach. A gunshot rang out and the assassin fell over dead. Blood poured from her mouth and a large wound in her stomach. Gun smoke drifted out from beneath Locke’s cloak.

            Trom and the spearman turned to Locke in disbelief. “You killed her!” the normally silence spearman said then charged at Locke.

            This distraction gave Jill enough time to unholster her Axe. Jill’s axe was a double blades war axe. it was thinner and lighter than most battle axes that barbarians carried and soldiers rarely used axes. This was special made to compliment Jill’s agility and strength. To make up for the lack of weight, the axe’s blades were always very sharp and could cut through armor and bone.

            Jill held the axe handle with one hand and let the blade hit the ground. She glared at Trom with fierce intensity.
Trom ran forward holding his giant hammer in the air, ready to smash it down on Jill.
Jill swung her large two handed axe with one hand and slashed Trom’s chest. The large man yelled and lost balance. He stumbled and fell, giving Jill enough time and an opening to attack.

            Red markings began to glow on Jill’s black armor. The armor was enchanted with runes and when activated made Jill increasingly more powerful. The red runes lit up in the center and then spread out to her arms and legs. Jill walked toward Trom with her axe resting on her shoulder. Red runes burned brightly in her armor and her eyes looked more red than brown. “Ready to die bandit?” Jill asked. Her voice was different, more menacing and every breath was visible. With every breath Jill looked like she was exhaling steam or smoke. Trom saw this transformation and for the first time in a long time he felt genuine fear. Trom saw Jill's glowing red eyes and her smoky breath and worried that soon she would be breathing fire. At that moment she appeared to be some manner of dragon or demon.

“Hey, lady, look I’m sorry. Ok? We’re even. I give up” Trom said as he dropped his hammer. “Remember what I said? You will be lucky if you leave here with your spine intact and you don’t look very lucky to me” Jill hissed.

            Jill charged forward Trom picked up his hammer and blocked Jill’s on coming axe attack but the axe split the head off of Trom’s hammer.
Jill grabbed Trom by the throat with her black metal gauntlet and began squeezing. Trom choked and dropped what was left of his hammer. “Stop! That’s enough!” Locke said from the background.

           Locke had been fighting with the spearman and was trying not to kill any more people. Once Lock let his guard down the spearman charged passed him and tried to stab his spear into Jill’s back. Jill spun around with uncanny speed and swung her axe. In one move she sidestepped the spear, turned around and swung her axe. the spear stabbed into Trom instead of Jill and as the spearman accidentally stabbed his boss Jill’s axe sliced through the air and chopped the spearman’s head clean off of his shoulders. the spearman's head bounced when it hit the ground and then rolled down the mountain path. The spearman stiffly clung to his spear but the rest of his body sagged over, bringing Trom’s body toppling over as well.

            Locke walked up to Jill. “I should have been warning them to run instead of warning you” he said grimly. He put down the hood of his dark gray cloak, revealing a young man with short spikey light brown hair, a bandanna around his head keeping his hair in place, tanned skin and blue eyes. Locke would normally have a big bright smile on his face but today he was wearing a grim stare.
“It had to be done. They had no respect for the life of others” Jill said coldly.

            “Neither do you!” Locke replied angry as he gestured at all of the bloodshed. “I have respect for innocent lives. You’re friends wouldn’t have spared me, so why should I spare them?” Jill said as she turned quickly to face Locke. Locke flinched as he expected her to attack him.
“they weren’t my friends and you spare people because you are better then they are, not equal” Locke replied. “Nice ideal, but I have been in too many wars to agree with you” Jill said as she turned away and continued down the mountain path. “Thanks for the help” Jill shouted back without turning. Locke nodded “Yeah, I thought I was helping” He said almost too quietly for Jill to hear. “You didn’t really need any help” Locke muttered.

            Jill continued down the path, leaving the dead bodies and the young Locke behind her. She found it odd for a bandit to stick up for a traveler and even stranger that he had a gun. Guns were new technology and almost no one had them. This had Jill feeling curious, but not curious enough to go back and bother talking with Locke again. Jill was still on a journey and couldn’t afford any more interruptions or set backs.

The first snowflakes of winter could be seen drifting over the kingdom and Jillian had little time to waste.

The Vanguard Part 1 of 2

            The cold winter wind blew through the White Mountain peeks. The small town of Wolfpeek was miles from any other town or settlement. Anyone who traveled through the mountain pass would stop at Wolfpeek to rest before continuing on their journey. The town population was very small, only a handful of determined people lived there all year round. They were the ones who maintained the general store, the Inn and the stables that the visitors relied on. The town population was low but visitors were so frequent that the town never felt empty.

            Jillian Cole was a woman with medium length black hair, pale skin like the snow and reddish brown eyes. She was not a towering figure or even an extremely muscular one, yet she still managed to be an intimidating figure. Jillian walked into the horse head Inn, he black metal armor clanked and rustled with each step. Her whole body was armored but it wasn’t the bulky suit of armor knights had, this was designed for mobility. The joints and under the arms had thick black leather instead of metal plate to improve on speed and flexibility. The only color she had on her armor besides black was the red scarf that was wrapped around her neck and hung down to her midsection.

            The horse head Inn was a large, dimly lit room full of tables and chairs. There was a bar and in the back was a set of stairs that led to a second floor. The second floor was more of a large loft with a row of beds. Night had passed over the land and the Inn was full of travelers drinking and laughing. Even the most seasoned traveler could find an interesting story or bit of new information in the Horse head Inn due to the number of people that passed through on a regular basis.

            Jill walked toward a chair in the far corner of the room, she undid her weapon strap and removed a large battle-axe from a holder on her back. She set the axe against the wall and sat down with a heavy clunk. Just as she sat down a barmaid walked up to Jill and with a bright smile asked “What can I get for you today, Sir?” Jill brushed her hair out of her face and stared on the bar maiden. The Barmaid was pretty enough, with blue eyes and strawberry blonde hair.

“Don’t see many women in armor? In such a well traveled place like this, I thought you would have seen it all” Replied Jill, she smiled in her best attempt to be friendly. The Barmaid looked surprised “Oh I am sorry Madam. I-its dark and your hair was in your face and I thought, well don’t mind me now. What can I be getting’ for ya?” She said nervously. Jill tried to smile again but had reached her limit. “Just an ale, thanks” She said. The Barmaid nodded, gave a nervous smile and ran off.

            Jill wondered why she was trying to be nice. She wasn’t one for small talk and rarely let things slide. The barmaid reminded Jill of someone she used to know. The barmaid returned and set the beer down on the table and gave a smile and Jill smiled back. Jill figured she must either be exhausted or had spent too long on the road alone because she was never this friendly.

           Jill tried to focus on the journey ahead, she pulled maps, papers and letters from her bag. She had letters from all kinds of people, Lords and kings to farmers and sailors, every letter asking for her help with a battle, fight, war or just asking to scare off some local gang. The maps were covered ink, little notes about places she had been and drawings of landmarks.

            The night continued on and Jill mostly kept to herself, drinking her ale and thinking about her journey. But as she made plans for her trip ahead her mind kept bringing her back, back to a simpler time. A time when Jillian didn’t always wear armor and she still had people she considered friends. The peaceful days when she had a hometown and made plans to settle down.

            “Excuse me Madam, will ya be needing anything else?” Asked the Barmaid. Jill looked up from her drink and her pile of papers. She had maps, letters and scraps of paper spread out on the table in front of her. Most of the night she was studying the map but the last half hour she was just staring at it as her mind drifted into memories.

            When Jill looked up she saw the Barmaid’s expression had softened. She no longer looked afraid of Jill and her smile was warmer than ever. Jill was pulled so suddenly from her memories she had to assume her own expression must have been pitiful enough to make a once timid Barmaid now feel sorry for her. “What is your name?” Jill asked. “Andrian” Replied Andrian the barmaid. Jill smiled. This time it was a smaller yet more genuine smile.
”Andrian would you like to have a drink with me? Its been ages since I have had someone to talk to that wasn’t a brutish man” Jill asked. Andrian giggled “Yes we do get a lot of those” She replied. Then she smiled and hesitated before speaking again. “I think my shift is almost over, most people be needin’ sleep more than they need beer right now anyway” Andrian replied.

            Jill stayed at the table and put away her maps as Andrian talked to the Innkeeper. Andrian came back to the table with two fresh beers. Jill found it surprisingly easy to talk with Andrian, Jill didn’t have to intimidate anyone or keep up her guard. The barmaid was a genuinely nice person, a little simple maybe, but nice. Plus if Andrian did try something, Jill was pretty sure she could win in a fight. Cheerful, little strawberry blonde trying to fight a heavily armored traveler with a battle-axe. The thought of Andrian trying to pick a fight with anyone made Jill laugh.

            The sun was starting to come up and the two women were still at the table talking and having a great time. Jill was drunk and tired but kept drinking and didn’t want to sleep. Andrian reminded her of someone and the thought of this mystery person kept weaving in and out of her head. Andrian was in the middle of a funny story when she noticed Jill lean forward like she was going to fall over. Before Andrian could react Jill kissed her on the lips. Andrian’s eyes went wide and she froze. Jill pulled back and drunkenly began to apologies. “Sorry, I had a nice time but I think I should go to bed. I didn’t mean to…uh, Sorry again. I should go to sleep” Jill said sounding flustered. She tried to stand up and as she did she almost fell right over. Her armor clanked and rustled as she slowly got to her feet. “I am just gonna…” Jill said to Andrian as Jill motioned to the upstairs. Again mentioning she needed sleep.

            Jill began to stumble off, embarrassed and angry. Embarrassed that she kissed a person she just met and angry that she let her guard down. Getting this drunk and exhausted was dangerous when you traveled alone. Andrian caught up with Jill and smiled. “here let me help” She said to Jill. Jill nodded and smiled again. Andrian waved to the barkeep as she led Jill away from the main room, through a door and into a small room with a bed. “I don’t want you getting robbed or something in your weakened state…so you can stay here in my bed. I live here at the Inn so...” Andrian said nervously. Jillian leaned in and kissed Andrian again. This time Andrian wasn’t shocked and Jill didn’t pull away.

            Morning came too soon as the light of day shined through the shutters of the small bedroom. Jill woke up to find she was naked in bed with Andrian the barmaid. “Shit shit shit” Jill muttered. She was relieved to see that her armor and all of her possessions were not stolen or lost while Jill was in her drunken state. In fact all of Jill’s things were neatly piled in the corner of the room. While most would consider it a victory to end up in a pretty girls bed after a night of drinking, Jill didn’t. She had to be careful, so many things could have gone wrong and she couldn’t afford to let her guard down.

            Andrian rolled over and put her arms around Jill. Jill blushed as she began to remember the things they did together. Drunk Jill was as fearless and bold in bed as she was in battle. Sober Jill could handle the carnage of battle but having a naked woman next to her made her embarrassed and nervous. “Maybe I have been alone for too long if this is how I am acting” Jill told herself. 

            “I had a great night” Andrian said with a giggle. Jill blushed again and then turned to Andrian. “S-so did I” Jill replied. Jill realized who Andrian reminded her of. To her surprise Jill realized that Andrian reminded her of Delana, Jill’s previous girlfriend. Delana had red hair, not strawberry blond, her eyes were different and in many ways looked nothing like this Barmaid. But there was something about Andrian that made Jill think about Delana. “Maybe I am going crazy and every girl is starting to look like her” Jill thought. Andrian had similar mannerisms and her behavior was close to Delana, but Jill didn’t make the connection right away because they two didn’t actually look alike. It also explained why Jill let her guard down so quickly to a stranger.

            “I am still on a journey. I don’t think I can stick around. I am sorry if that upsets you” Jill said rigidly. She felt guilt from letting her guard down and now risked hurting someone who reminded her of Delana. Andrian stretched and got out of bed. “What? No, don’t worry about it. I know better than to expect a traveler to stick around. Besides I am looking for a husband, not a wife. I got to keep my body pure so I can’t have sex before I am married. So this helped keep my urges at bay until I find the right man” Andrian said.

            Jill’s eyes went wide, she didn’t know if she was more hurt, surprised or relieved. “Well g-good. Because I can’t stay so that makes things easier. But, uh, we did have sex, so you can’t call yourself a virgin who is waiting till marriage” Jill said, trying to speak carefully so as to not show emotion. “heheh, you’re so silly. No I mean real sex. Like with a man. you’re a girl, we can’t make babies or nothing so you don’t count” Andrian said as she got dressed. “I-I don’t count?” Jill stammered feeling hurt. “No, its just like girls helping each other out…” Andrian said then paused. “We are all just looking for a husband right? I mean you are a soldier so you must do stuff like this all the time just to get by. You can’t end up with a girl, how would you have babies?” Asked Andrian.

            Jill stared with unblinking eyes. “I guess you can’t have babies. But no I am not looking for a husband, I want a wife and to settle down. This isn’t a game. I don’t just sleep with strangers while I wait for prince charming to show up and put babies in me! And yes that did count! You aren’t a virgin you are a whore” Jill said. He anger grew as she spoke and couldn’t hold it in at the end. Jill put on her clothes grabbed her gear and stormed out.

            Jill wasn’t looking to start a life with anyone right now and this worked in her favor. Jill could leave without any guilt. This worked out. Jill was still upset though. She might have slept with a stranger in a moment of weakness but it still meant something to her. Andrian might have been a stranger but having traits similar to Delana, who Jill loved, made Jill feel like there might have been a connection. Jill wasn’t planning on staying but that doesn’t mean that night they spent together couldn’t mean something. Two ships passing in the night, but still a memorable night. “Oh it was nothing eh? Just wait in the mountains for a man to come rescue you?” Jill muttered as she angrily marched down the path, slowly putting on her armor as she went. Jill was also annoyed that she let her guard down for someone so foolish. Jill wouldn’t insult marriage or starting a family, but the thought of waiting for a man to come swoop and start making babies together seemed like weakness. Jill wasn’t about to wait for the woman of her dreams to swoop in and carry her off to a perfect life of marriage and happiness. Everything in life takes work

The Fall of Conspirators

Cold wind blew in from the north and clashed with the warm air settling over the land below. It was the beginning of fall, the start of festivals, harvests and feasts. It was the time for thinking back on the year and preparing for winter. The beautiful fall scenery mixed with the chilly air and the cozy fires burning brightly in fireplaces.

This season was loved by many and tolerated by others. The villagers across the land lived their daily lives while enjoying the small pleasures of life.

Under the King’s rule most of the land prospered but there were forces at work which would undermine the King's progress. Many of the nobles and lords preferred laws that favored the few over the many. Several of these high ranking generals and lesser lords conspired to seize power for themselves. 

The world carried on unaware of the brewing battle and grasp for power. The delicate light of day shone brightly through the newly yellow and orange changing leaves of Fall. Far from the delicate light and tucked away in a dark room where men hunched over a table, plotting their dark design.

That autumn was important for the kingdom, but very few knew it. That autumn was the time for preparation for the winter, when the King’s soldiers would be spread out and hindered by the snow. When the lesser lords and generals could use snow and cold as a reason to spend longer days and nights at the castle.

In the small fort, located on the eastern side of the kingdom, in a small room sat several of the conspirators.  A tall knight dressed in black armor stepped into the room from a darkened doorway. The knight wasn’t wearing the traditional kingdom seal and the armor wasn't made from any distinguishable metal. Since it was a military fort seeing a knight wasn’t cause for alarm.
“What are you doing soldier? This is a private meeting” said the captain at the table. Captain Humford wore the blue, white and yellow kingdom colors, decorative armor, no helmet and had a large mustache. Anyone would assume he was important just by looking at him. The others at the table were lords of the surrounding lands and villages. They wore clothes made of fine silk and cloth and fancy hats with feathers sticking from the brim. They owned armor but felt safe enough to not wear it on this occasion. 

The black armored knight spoke, the voice echoed strangely from the slots in the helmet. “The chief advisor to the king suspects treachery and I was sent to handle the situation”
 The captain felt a twinge of nervousness shoot through him but he covered it up with anger. “I am a captain in the kings army, how dare you! You will be hanged, drawn and quartered for this! I’ll see to it personally! I will speak to the advisor and remind him of his place!” Shouted Captain Humford, his face growing red as he slammed his hand against the table. The nobles sat in their place, didn’t move and tried to put on a strong face to show they were upset by this ‘outrage’ as well but the nervousness in their eyes gave them away.

“I am not part of your kingdom and do not fear you judgment. None of you will be alive to pass your judgments anyway” Said the Black Knight. This made the lords cower and the captain stand up with his sword drawn.

The dark knight charged forward, holding a large sword with two hands. The captain flipped the table to block the knight then stabbed his sword over the table.
The knight stopped sharply then brought up the two handed sword blocking the strike from the captain’s sword.
“I am The Vanguard, slayer of men and the demon of the mountain pass. Struggling will just make this more painful for you” Said the knight, speaking through a deep voice and guttural breath.

This declaration terrified one of the lords, who had heard of the Vanguard before and the fearsome tales of his journey. The three lords stood up sharply when the table was flipped and after hearing the Vanguard’s threats, two of them drew their swords while the third ran for the door.

With supernatural speed and strength, the Vanguard crouched down, turned sideways and launched the two handed sword through the air. The sword spun sideways like a spinning buzz saw. It struck the fleeing noble in the back, went through his chest and pinned him to the wall.
The other two nobles and the captain all attacked at once, knowing this was their chance to outnumber and kill the weaponless knight.

The Vanguard raised its metal gauntlets to block the sword strikes, while moving backward toward the sword sticking out of the dead noble.
The Captain and the first noble were blocked by the gauntlets but the second noble was at enough of an angel that the sword went passed the gauntlet and struck the Vanguard in the side, between the gaps in the armor.

Blood trickled from the gap in the armor and marked the nobles sword. “So the Shadow Knight CAN bleed” Gloated the second noble.
The Vanguard stopped moving toward the sword and instead lunged at the noble. Red glaring eyes burned through the darkened slots in the Vanguard’s helmet. The Vanguard grabbed the second noble with its metal gauntlet clad hands. The Vanguard clenched both hands around the coward's neck, sinking the razor sharp fingers of the gauntlet deep into his throat. “That wound is nothing compared to the devastation you and your companions will feel. I will paint this room with your blood as a warming to any who strike at me with their blades!” Roared the Vanguard. The second noble only heard half of the threat before he passed out from blood and oxygen loss.

The other two men were struck with fear from this display. “Let us live, I will give you any amount. I can double whatever you are being paid” cried the remaining noble. The Captain scowled at the noble. “Show some backbone!” 

“I do not bend my will to weakness” said the Vanguard as it moved toward the sword. The captain ran to the side of the room so the Vanguard would have to split its attention between the Captain and the two nobles.
The Vanguard ripped the two handed sword from the dead noble and in one motion swung it at the captain. The blood of the dead noble flew off the blade then splattered the Captain’s face seconds before the Vanguards' sword cleaved the captains head from his shoulders. The captains blood then splattered against the stone wall behind him.

The headless captain toppled to the ground while the spineless noble stood shivering. “It was General Durms idea, we all just followed him. Please spare me” Said the noble. “It might have been his plan, but you followed it and you would have happily claimed any reward for doing so” replied the Vanguard.
The Vanguard walked slowly toward the noble, the two handed sword dragging along the ground and dripping with blood. “Even if your king pardoned you this moment, I would still kill you. Weakness and treachery needs to be punished. You will be punished”

Outside the sun shone brightly, the birds chirped and the trees swayed in the gentle breeze of the day. The cold hard wind of winter had not arrived for most but for the conspirators of the eastern fort, winter had already fallen on their lives and they would not see another spring. The sinister winter plan had not been halted, only slowed.

News would spread among the nobles and generals of the grizzly murder of Captain Humford and the three nobles. If the King’s advisor and the Vanguard hoped to stop the plot against the king they would have to work fast and could now expect heavier security around the heads of this scheme.

November thoughts

A pumpkin sat out in the cold, leftover from October. A gentle dusting of snow covered the pumpkin and the surrounding dried leaves that had fallen. The bright afternoon sun melted the small amount of frost leftover from the cold early morning. Chilled wind mixed with the warm sunshine. The Fall was very much a time of hot and cold. The weather was often unpredictable, the mornings were cold with hot cups of coffee traveling to rumbling cars trying to heat up, the afternoon sun mixed with the chilly air, the cold of night was pushed back by the light from homes and the burning fireplaces that kept the humans warm.

            October was always full of crisp air and the promise of spooky fun just around the corner but November is a pumpkin covered by snow. It’s the gatekeeper of Autumn and Winter. Jiggle bells dance in the heads of many while others gloom about the passing of Halloween. Some are more present minded and look forward to or dread the most immediate holiday: Thanksgiving.

            November often feels like the start of Winter but it is full of Fall beauty for those who seek it out. Squirrels scamper through backyards, covered in extra layers of fat and fluff, food associated with a harvest are in full display, the rustic scent of wood smoke fills the air and while some nights feel like one day closer to Christmas, many nights have a cold eerie vibe that is very much the ghost of Halloween coming up to say hello.

            November is Christmas cheer, Thanksgiving turkey and half off savings on Halloween decorations. November is scarf weather and Fall jackets. November could be the start of stress and worry for some, with the expenses of the holiday season or the dread of winter and snowstorms, but if you appreciate the beauty of November while it is here, you just might face the holiday season with a little more cheer.

The last Autumn

            “The cold breeze is nice” said Joe as he laid in bed. Autumn had arrived and the cool air of the season was blowing gently in through Joe’s open window. He lay in bed with a warm plaid flannel blanket covering him. Joe stared at the ceiling, his eyes half open and a drowsy expression across his face.

            “Why do you always mention the wind more than any other detail about the day? How about the trees, sunlight or even the traffic and people” Asked Joe’s brother Bill.

            “I love the wind, it travels across the land, it can go anywhere. It could be a warm breeze, a cool refreshing gust or a bitter winter wind. We can’t see it, but it changes so much of the scenery around us, moving trees and pushing over babies. It carries flower seeds and pollen. Its almost as romantic as rain. And best of all we can all create wind with our breath” Joe explained in a quiet groggy voice then inhaled and blew out air quickly through his mouth causing the thin curtains to shake and dance. “See, we all have it in us. Or bodies are made of water, our atoms are made of stars and we can create wind with our breath” Joe added.

            Bill smiled weakly. Joe made humans sound almost godly and maybe compared to other creatures they are, but gods didn’t die of diseases. Gods didn’t waste away in bed with a head full of medication. Bill didn’t know what to think, he didn’t have words or explanations for life. He just sat with his brother waiting for the inevitable. Bill tried to make himself useful but Joe rarely asked for anything and a nurse came by twice a day with his meds.

            Bill was in turmoil, he was the healthy one but his mind raged against life and he felt like he would cry at any moment. Joe stared peacefully at the swaying autumn trees. The world seemed so beautiful to him and while Bill worried, Joe’s mind was at peace.

            Days passed and little changed day by day. Medication, IV drip, a little tv, contemplation of life, Bill sometimes eats, Joe can’t eat anymore.

The sun rises, Bill opens the window, Joe wakes up and compliments the breeze. This happened every day, until one day, the sun raised, Bill opened the window and Joe didn’t wake up.

            A strong breeze blew in through Joe’s open window. It shook the curtains and knocked the flannel blanket to the floor. Bill’s tears streaked down his face, his hands trembled and he stood by the window unable to move as he muttered “The cold breeze is nice, right Joe?”

The Crimson Hand on Halloween part 2

            Rumford and Samantha Gould had reached the hidden crypt of Joroth the Undying. The man who had died so many times that the only thing keeping him together is a powerful artifact. Rumford is kept bound to his skeleton through Samantha’s magic and Samantha is a mortal who can die but also doesn’t seem to age.

Three false immortals facing off in a crypt on Halloween night.

            Joroth wasted no time in charging forward, holding his jagged axe in his hands as he did. The bandit lord was decorated in his armor, his purple bandana was tied around his chest piece, his leather pants had mostly rotted away along with any muscle or skin. The bandit slashed his axe downward. Samantha and Rumford quickly dodged as the axe buried itself into the stone flooring. Rumford changed into his specter form, taking on the appearance of a shadow as he floated through the air. He lunged at Joroth, skeleton arms emerging from Rumford’s shadow cloak. The skeleton arms grabbed a hold of the axe and tried to wrestle it free from Joroth’s grasp.

            Samantha moved in while Joroth was distracted and punched with her crimson hand, the glowing crimson glyphs on her hand pulsed with energy, delivering searing pain with each punch. Joroth could still feel pain and shouted and recoiled from the supernatural burns. Rumford grabbed the axe out of the bandit’s hand and floated above him with it. Rumford swung the giant axe, slashing Joroth across the back. Samantha attempted to rip Joroth’s soul from his body, hoping to bypass the undying magic of the relic. Samantha reached into the bandit leader’s body and grabbed a hold of his spirit but when she pulled back his spirit wouldn’t budge. The bandit screamed in pain but was able to muster enough strength to grab Samantha’s arm. The glyphs on her arm burned Joroth as he touched them but he did not relent. Joroth squeezed Samantha’s arm with all of his might. Samantha felt the bones in her arm break. She screamed and jumped backward.

            Joroth stood up and charged at Samantha while she was cradling her broken arm. He slammed his weight into her, sending her flying into the wall of the cave. Rumford flew forward and slashed with Joroth’s axe. the axe spun in circles slashing multiple times as it went. Joroth was covered in broken pieces of armor, necklaces and trinkets, so Rumford didn’t know which small, mundane looking object was the source of his power so he continued to slash wildly.

            Samantha pulled a sword from her belt. It was her sword that Joroth used to kill Rumford. Not only was it her sword that was used but if Samantha didn’t try to be heroic and save the town, Rumford wouldn’t have been killed. Samantha run at Joroth, rage building in her eyes and pain searing from her broken arm. Rumford moved like a shadow, slashing Joroth at any opportunity he could. Joroth was distracted for the moment and didn’t see Samantha’s approach.

            Samantha ran past Joroth and stabbed her sword at Rumford. The specter was immortal but reflexes kicked in and he blocked with Joroth’s axe. Samantha’s sword pierced the head of Joroth’s axe. the jagged weapon cracked, Joroth looked in disbelief. The weapon then broke, releasing stored magic into the air. The mighty bandit lord scrambled to pick up the axe fragments but it was too late. Joroth’s hands began to crumble, then his body and his head. The undying axe was destroyed and its wielder went with it. Samantha realized that the axe was his most prized possession and a simple minded creature like Joroth would proudly display his power instead of hiding its source.

            The enemy had been defeated, Samantha and Rumford had their revenge and now stood with smiles as their long quest finally came to an end. “I think I know the answer, but what do we do next?” Rumford asked. “We find a way to restore you, or a way for us both to pass on to the next life peacefully and together” Samantha replied, the determination still bright in her eyes. Rumford let out an echoed laugh. “I like that plan, but I meant how do we get out of here”

            There was a door to the crypt but it was sealed and meant to keep Joroth locked in. After several hours of attacks from Rumford’s super natural powers and Samantha’s searing Crimson Hand, the door finally gave way. The two broke through a small piece of door and ventured above ground. The night air kissed their skin as the bright full moon illuminated the land. Clouds drifted over head and fog lingered along the ground. They stood in a graveyard, which was strangely beautiful that night. Once Joroth was finally dead, Samantha felt like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders and she began to see beauty in the world.

            A half a land away, Hallows end celebrated Halloween long into the night. Drinks filled mugs, fireworks filled the sky and Jack-O-lanterns laughed into the night. Samantha and Rumford rested among the tombstones. They cuddled and held each other as they did when Rumford was alive. “I’m sorry I was so distant for all these years” Samantha said. Rumford ran his skeletal hand across her face “I understand that looking at me reminds you of what you lost. I know I am technically trapped in my own body and bound to serve you through dark magic, but even if you freed me right now and set my soul free, I would still follow you like nothing changed. I want to haunt you forever” Rumford said, trying his best to be romantic but then realized that his words could be considered creepy. Samantha laughed “You always followed me around like a stray pup, I expect it will always be like that. If we are like this for another hundred years, I will feel blessed to have another hundred years with my adorable skeleton pup” Samantha said sweetly as she ran her delicate fingers along Rumford’s shoulder bone.

            The adventures of the crimson hand were not over but this chapter of revenge is finished. Happy Halloween.

The Crimson Hand on Halloween part 1 of 2

 

“Travels beware, if you visit Hallows End on Halloween, don’t journey any deeper into the Haunted forest. If you go any deeper into the forest you will find only Death” – Wisdom from the Autumn Forest residence.

            The clock struck midnight and Halloween had arrived. The entrance to the Haunted Forest would be revealed and any who dared travel the path would find Hallows End. Samantha and Rumford stood in front of the forest as flickers of light began to dance at the edge of the forest. Blue wisps danced and spun around the large, dead husks of trees. The air trembled, the moon shone down brighter and the trees began to move. The husks uprooted themselves and crawled backward with unnatural motion. A path was made, stretching on into the darkness. Samantha and Rumford had seen the Haunted woods path open many times.

            The moment stood in time, drawn and framed like an art show of memories. The hundredth time that Samantha and Rumford watched the Haunted Forest open on Halloween night, one hundred Halloweens together. Ninety of those Halloweens we spent looking for revenge, but the ten good years they had together were the best years they had in the entirety of their unnaturally long lifespan.

            The couple entered the Haunted Forest, the full moon hung over head and as Samantha entered the forest for the hundredth time she looked up and saw the moon had a large grinning face. This unpleasant smile was only visible for a second before the pair entered the forest. The forest was thick with tangled husk like branches, which blocked out the sky and obscured the sight of any smiling moon. Samantha decided to not read into this as an ill omen and continued walking. Blue spirit wisps danced around the trees lighting the way to Hallows End. If Samantha didn’t know better she might be fooled into thinking the wisps were friendly or happy. The truth was the spirits of the forest wanted to seem friendly on Halloween so visitors would leave the path. The only safety assured was on the path, leaving the path for any reason was almost certain death.

            As Rumford walked along he pulled his cloak tightly around his chest. He didn’t like being reminded that the green flame in his chest was just his wisp bound to his body and without Samantha’s crimson hand, Rumford would have been a dancing wisp like the ones in the forest. Samantha tucked herself under Rumford’s arm, showing a strange level of affection that she had not shown in almost eighty years. “I love you Rumford” Samantha cooed. Rumford stopped walking. He might have been a literal heartless monster but his soul could still feel and her sudden warmth made him pause. “I love you too, Samantha” He muttered back, then quickly added “This isn’t the end for us, you know that right?” Samantha smiled “I know. We will get revenge. I just realized that I’ve been on such a tireless hunt for your killer that I forgot to appreciate that I still have you around in some capacity” Samantha replied, her voice filled with sorrow. “I know what you mean. When you don’t age its easy to let decades fly by without even holding hands. I’m not even a person anymore” Rumford replied. Samantha looked sad and held Rumford tighter and the two continued to walk.

            The darkness of the path gave way to warm flickering lights in the distance. Hallows End was just ahead and set to accept visitors. The town of monsters was a sight to behold, creatures of different sizes lived and worked in harmony, the houses were built by the residence and made to fit the needs of the occupant. Some homes were one giant room and made of fire resistant wood, some looked like more traditional multi-room, average sized homes and some were small with hundreds of rooms. Mouse sized creatures lived in apartments in one of the first ever apartment buildings. There was a tavern near the center of town that was shaped like a giant pumpkin and painted orange, adorned with colorful lights and streamers for the upcoming festival. The entrance of town had a giant wooden sign that read “Welcome to Hallows End” the letters were written in red paint but the color could be confused for blood. The monsters in the town painted the buildings with orange, red, purple, lime green and black paint and some of the fancier buildings had designs of black roses, bones, or haunted trees. The home of Yarkov the giant had a picture of a dog on it, Yarkov loved dogs but never found one so deep in the forest.

           

            Samantha and Rumford had been to the town many times in the past hundred years and every year the town added a new structure, it could have been a new house, a shop, a bench, a statue or even planted some new trees. The town was ever changing, which was part of its charm. This year Samantha and Rumford arrived with a mission, it wasn’t a year of festivals, study or vacation, it was a year of revenge. Samantha marched toward the center of town with purpose and navigated the town with the familiarity of a resident of Hallows End. At the center of town was a giant Jack-O-Lantern with a smiling face, sharp features and a flame burning brightly inside it. The pumpkin was a real pumpkin but it never wilted or died, the flame was real but it never burned out. The Hallows End pumpkin grew from a seed dropped by a necromancer and when the pumpkin grew it absorbed all the magic of the surrounding area. This magical Jack-O-Lantern had been a source of magic, protection, light and pride for the inhabitants of Hallows End.

            Samantha reached into her back and pulled out the ancient stone pumpkin that she bought of the ship captain in Mist Harbor. The air shifted and the wind began to pick up. Fallen leaves rustled against the dark gray stone of the towns square and the residence all felt a change. Samantha hadn’t done anything yet but the town was already reacting to the stones power. The stone began to glow and would get brighter the closer it was to the Hallows End pumpkin.

            Rumford and Samantha looked at each other one final time before touching the stone against the pumpkin. The stone reacted to the stored magic of Hallows End and was lifted out of Samantha’s hand. The stone slammed down into the ground and melted into the black and gray stone floor beneath them. Samantha started to see the face of Rumford’s murderer flash in her eyes. Then it was all she could think about, soon it was all she could see with her eyes. The world spun, the night sky sank into the ocean, the Haunted Forest trees melted away and soon all was dark. Emptiness replaced reality as Samantha drifted off into the endless void.

            It was ninety years ago when Rumford lost his life. Samantha and Rumford had been married for nine years, they enjoyed traveling, going to Hallows End for parties, Rumford enjoyed studying monsters and Samantha started to see the appeal of it as well. The two didn’t own a house and they never settled into a single town. Rumford was used to traveling as a scholar and Samantha made up her mind many years ago that she wanted to travel the world.

            One day in the village of New Leaf, Samantha and Rumford were having lunch under a tall maple tree. They had been visiting the outer lands, places that experienced all four seasons throughout the year instead of just one. It was Fall in these lands and the colors of the turning maple made Samantha feel at home.

As the two ate they started hearing screams coming from the other side of the village. Samantha stood up but Rumford grabbed her arm “Honey, what could we possibly do to help?” Rumford asked. From his viewpoint, he was an outsider and lacked any special ability to help anyone. He also was terrified at the mere thought of Samantha being harmed in any way.

            “Coward, we have to help!” Samantha chided as she pulled her arm away, then ran off to help the villagers. Rumford hung his head as he got up to run after his wife. Rumford was cowardly when it came to fighting and any kind of serious danger and wished that Samantha was a little smarter about the dangers of the land.

           

            When the two arrived they saw that bandits had begun to raid the town. These men and women were dressed in skulls and wore purple bandanas. They were the most organized and aggressive group of bandits that Samantha had ever seen. The bandit lord, who went by the name Joroth, was the meanest of the group, he wore a helmet made of broken bones and carried a large two handed axe with jagged and bloodied edges. The bandits called themselves the “Sweeping Death” and weren’t interested in survivors.

            Samantha wasn’t a warrior but she knew how to use a sword and a bow. She snuck through the village with Rumford behind her. The two easily evaded the mob of bandits and found Joroth.  The bandit king was drinking wine straight out of the cask. His two massive hands wrapped around the barrel like gorilla mitts as he lifted the cask and drank. Wine poured out of an axe shaped hole in the top.

            Samantha drew her bow, her delicate red hair blew in the breeze, her long hair would give her an indication of the winds direction allowing for a better shot. Samantha fired the arrow and it found its mark straight into the bandit leaders chest. Joroth dropped his wine and stumbled backward but stayed on his feet. “Find the lil’shits that did this” He uttered. The bandits swarmed the area, it wouldn’t be long before Samantha was caught. Thinking fast she grabbed Rumford’s hand and the two of them ran, heading for the edge of town. Just as the two were about to reach the edge of town they ran into one of the bandits.

            Without hesitation Samantha drew her sword and lunged, stabbing the bandit through the lungs before he could call for help. “ok lets leave, please” Rumford pleaded. Before they could get away a giant axe came twirling past them and hit a tree, splitting the tree in half. “I’m not letting a single soul escape” Yelled the bandit leader. Joroth had caught up with them and was now charging forward. Samantha readied her sword and lunged just as Joroth was close. The experienced bandit leader sidestepped the sword attack, grabbed Samantha’s hand and cuffed her across the face. Samantha was sent backwards from the force of the attack.

            Rumford found his courage at this moment, he took off his baggy cloak and grabbed the sword Samantha dropped. The scholar charged with his sword, stabbing the bandit leader in the side. This did not kill Joroth, who seemed to have supernatural strength. Joroth roared and punched Rumford. He grabbed the sword that Rumford dropped and walked towards the fallen scholar. “No survivors” The bandit muttered insanely. Instead of running away, which is what he wanted to do, Rumford stayed to fight. He couldn’t risk Samantha being killed because he was a coward. Rumford reached into his bag and pulled out a flame crystal. This magical artifact was so rare that scholars refused to use them, in case the crystal was ever damaged.

            Rumford decided that protecting his wife was more important than any rare artifact. He lifted the crystal and hurled the fire gem at the Bandit leader. The crystal exploded and engulfed the bandit in flames. The explosion was bigger than Rumford anticipated and was also swallowed by the flames. The burned and half dead bandit continued to charge forward and stabbed Rumford through the heart. The bandit collapsed to the ground as did Rumford.

            Though Joroth appeared very dead, he was not. He held a mystical artifact that always kept him on the verge of death but could never die.

            Samantha opened her eyes in present day. The Hallows End Magic had worked. The Crimson Hand and her undead lover had finally found the crypt of Joroth the undying.

            The two stood underground in the crypt made to house the most vicious man in the land. Lights flickered on and the ground rumbled. Joroth the undying rose from his giant coffin like a lumbering beast. His skin was missing in pieces and the skin he did have was still blacked from Rumford’s fire bomb. The time had arrived, time to kill Joroth the Undying.

((Side note, The details explaining how Rumford was brought back to life and Samantha’s Crimson hand will be explained in Crimson hand Origin 2. for now, I want to finish this Halloween themed story before finishing back story))

Crimson Hand Origin

Rain fell from the sky, beating the ground like fingers tapping on a drum. Samantha and Rumford Gould had left Mist Harbor but the rain followed them. “No one enjoys our company as much as the rain” Rumford joked.

A chilled breeze blew through and rustled their cloaks. Samantha wore her cloak with her hood up and her black leather gloves. She wore a sleeveless tunic and black pants. She wasn’t bothered by the chill in the air but had to keep her appearance and her hand covered at all times. Rumford looked like he was preparing for a blizzard with all of his layers of clothes. He wore enough clothes to cover any trace of bone or hint of green glow from the flame in his chest. The only spots visible were his eyes and the skin around the eyes. Rumford didn’t feel hot or cold, he didn’t get tired or need to eat or drink, so he carried all the extra clothes, watched over Samantha when she slept and remained covered as often as possible.

The two approached the Autumn Forest, the forest of autumn colors, honey, apples and maple. The air was always cooler there but it never snowed. Leaves fell from the trees and blew in the breeze but the trees were never bare. The Autumn Forest was a beautiful sight for most but not for Samantha.

Samantha was born in the small village of Honeydew, her life was quiet, peaceful and boring. Every day was greeted with beautiful fall colors and a cool breeze to temper the midday sun.

            When Samantha turned nineteen, she decided to leave her village in search of adventure. Her journey started on a clear and sunny day when the sky was a bright blue and the air was crisp. She was a spunky youth with a sharp tongue, a warming smile and plans for adventure. She knew how to plant and harvest crops and orchards, she could chop wood, hunt and ride horses. Samantha was prepared for the long road ahead and understood that life wouldn’t always be fair or kind outside of her village.

            The sunlight danced through the swaying leave of the forest and speckled the ground in golden rays. Samantha’s horse trotted along the well-treaded path from the Autumn Forest to Bright Harbor. Samantha spotted a dark haired traveler on the path. He had olive skin, black hair, brown eyes and wore layers of robes. Samantha rode up next to the man as he walked along the dirt road, his robes kicking up dust as he went. “I rarely see travelers on these roads” Samantha called to the man. The robed man flinched in surprise as he turned quickly. “H-hello. Yes, I’m traveling” The man said nervously. Samantha gave a suspicious look at the nervous man. “Is everything alright?” Samantha asked as she slowed down. The man’s face started to relax “Yes, thank you. I just need to get to Hallows End before the Halloween festival is over.

            “You are going the wrong way for that. If you want, I can take you” Samantha said. She planned on going to Bright Harbor but a spooky town of monsters all celebrating at once could be fun as well. “My name is Samantha, whats your name?” Samantha asked as she helped the man onto the horse. “Rumford” Replied the man with a big smile.

            Hallows End was a town deep in the Haunted Forest, a forest so dangerous that no one had ever returned from the forest once they entered it. Once a year the forest would magically open into a straight path leading to Hallows End. The bravest residence of the Autumn Forest and some tourists would go to Hallows End every year to celebrate Halloween. While the Haunted Forest was extremely dangerous, the town of Hallows End was one of the safest places in the world. Large monsters kept the peace and the town was founded on peace with all who enter as friends.

            Samantha knew where the path would open and knew when it would open. She road her horse to the entrance of the Haunted forest on the night before Halloween. The two arrived at the edge of the forest and set up a small camp. There was a visible line where the curse of the Haunted forest ended and the start of the healthy Autumn Forest began. there was no noticeable entrance of any kind but Rumford was an outsider and had to trust Samantha knew what she was doing.

            Rumford was slow to open up, he huddled into his robes like a turtle in his shell but as the night went on he loosened up. Samantha turned on her charms, she was witty and sarcastic and this connected with Rumford’s dry sense of humor and love of sarcasm. The difference was Samantha seemed fearless and Rumford was more timid.

            The cool night air blew through the Autumn Forest and swept over Samantha’s camp. The wind made the flames dance. The fire danced to the song of the wind, spreading light and heat out into the cold dark night, the flames spat little embers up into the air like a dancer throwing confetti. The embers popped and sizzled before burning out and drifting down to the earth as harmless ash. Rumford shyly laughed and smiled as Samantha told stories about the Autumn Forest and her small adventures she had so far. Rumford couldn’t take his eyes off the red haired woman from the Autumn forest. He stared at her pale face through the crackling flames, her green eyes were fierce and pushed back the darkness of night just as much as the roaring flames did. He saw a heroic woman who just started her journey, a conqueror of lands and a force to be reckoned with.

            Samantha tried her best to tell her boring stories to pass the time, she looked at her new traveling companion and realized that there was a cute and funny guy hidden in that pile of hair and robes. Samantha didn’t think her stories were very interesting but Rumford hung on her every word. Stories of scaring bears away from the fish she just caught, or shooting an arrow at a bandit who tried to run off with and old ladies money. These weren’t big battles between wizards and demons but a shut in like Rumford was enthralled.

            “So enough about my stories, what about you?” Samantha asked, as the light from the campfire glinted in her eyes.  “I study monsters, supernatural events and magic. I wanted to study Hallows end for the longest time but had to wait till the right time when the path opened. I also had to wait till the head scholar approved of my journey” Rumford explained. “So…” Samantha muttered but trailed off as she chose her next words. “what you are saying is, while everyone is partying on Halloween you are using it as a chance to study?” Samantha asked with a sly smile. “Yes” Rumford replied innocently. “NERD!” Samantha shouted then burst into laughter. She playfully threw her pillow at him and continued to laugh. This kind of remark would usually annoy Rumford but somehow when the words came from Samantha he didn’t mind at all. He smiled and felt embarrassed but also happy that something he did made her laugh.

            The two met on that day, the night before Halloween, one hundred years ago. Present day, Samantha and Rumford Gould, husband and wife, Crimson hand and Ghoulish bodyguard, road to the entrance of the Haunted forest. Rumford turned to his wife as the approached “Remember when we first met? All I wanted to do was study monsters” Rumford joked. “NERD!” Samantha shouted with a big smile then punched Rumford’s arm. She heard the sound of his shoulder bone crack as the joint popped out of place. The air went dead and the two were silent. “Its fine, I’ll fix it later. Ya know, I used to love monsters and now I AM one” Rumford tried to joke. Samantha winced and looked like she was going to cry. “You will never be a monster to me” Samantha said, looking Rumford in the eyes. Rumford had a flash back to that first night they met. The dark of night, the cold wind, Samantha’s pale beautiful face and her tender look, it was all just like that night, so much so that he could imagine the flames crackling and he could see the flaming glint in her eyes.

            “We will get revenge” Samantha said. Her whispered voice floated away like a hushed wind.