Dusty

The Adventures of Caleb Crowsnest

For a creature his size, Byures could move at bewildering speeds. One second, Caleb stood on his feet, menacing the hulking aligatorman at blade’s length, the next Byures grasped the sword by the blade giving the boy a gentle push using his free hand. It did not take much, even holding back his immense strength to a mere percentage of its full potential Byures sent Caleb tumbling back, landing hard on his rump upon the polished marble floor. For the second time in less than forty-eight hours Caleb found himself bested by a reptile. Although the first one he faced undoubtably outmatched him in size and strength and speed he could at least stayed on his feet for more than two seconds during their duel. The sheer difference between himself and Byures however could not be described by anything less than astronomical. The boy felt more embarrassed than hurt, and even the momentary flare of fear that rose in his gut faded when he saw the calm and unaggressive mien upon the Hunter’s face. Byures did not seem interested in harming Caleb further at all, instead he examined the captured sword, spinning the antique to inspect the smith work, and testing its edge on his thumb. The Hunter began to hum, a deep rumbling sound that stopped and started again rhythmically. Like a house cat chirping, except this hypothetical cat weighed over two thousand pounds and spent most of its life submerged beneath murky river waters. He is laughing at me! Caleb realized, his cheeks burning at the thought. He knocked me over easy as you please and is laughing about it.

“Did you think to kill me using this butter knife little one?”

Caleb started in surprise at the blunt yet humor laced question. “…Yes, I mean… I could… No.” He stared down at the marble tiling, tracing small circles on the smooth surface. “I don’t think I could have.”

“I would be very impressed if you did manage it.” Byures held the cutlass up to the light, the hilt dwarfed inside his hand. Even the blade seemed more a curved dagger than a proper sword when he wielded it. “This weapon has not been sharpened… Maybe ever. It is a decorative piece, fashioned of cheap steel.” Taking hilt and blade tip in either hand he squeezed them together. The metal might as well have been made of paper for all the resistance it gave. Caleb winced as the sword snapped under the unbearable pressure as one might break a dry twig. Byures tossed the two ruined halves away, snorting and laughing in his strange, almost alien way.

“Hey that wasn’t mine!” Caleb protested, struggling back to his feet. “I needed to return it, I was only borrowing them.”

“Consider yourself fortunate boy.” Byures said, suddenly serious a dangerous light shining in his eyes. “That blade would surely have failed you, and if you intend to fight and survive here today, you’ll need proper steel. Not some toy you pulled off a wall.”

Resting his hands on his hips Caled sized the ginormous aligatorman up and down, considering his options. When they separated last Caleb considered Byures a friend, and a trusted one at that. After all he guided them faithfully to the human portion of Thorn City, and helped Edward, and attempted to teach him magic. Now however, the Hunter’s expressed wish to slay the City Council meant they were enemies, or at the very least advisories. The swift reversal of their relationship paired by the understanding that Jake, Rainbow, Edward, and himself would be trivial annoyances for the hostile giant should he intend to finish his mission left a bitter taste in Caleb’s mouth. Still, it was the knightly thing to stand up for right and good, and he could not back down now. “That’s the problem isn’t it?” He expressed, releasing a heavy sigh. “You’re working for the evil gnome guy and trying to forward a hostile takeover of the city, meaning I have to fight you, or at least I’ve got to try.” Bravely Caleb squared his shoulders, standing like mouse before a lion his small chin stuck out, and his slight stomach sucked in. Though worry knitted his brow he declared in the manliest voice he possessed. “I cannot let you murder councilmembers or attempt to take over the city. So please… Don’t…?”

For his part Byures did not laugh, no matter how much he might have liked too. Instead he maintained his serious composure, drawing forth his weapon, a massive poleaxe that stood half his height, and yet still towered over Caleb. Resting the weapon spike down upon the ground Byures leaned against the polearm, considering the small warrior barring his path. “You do not know of what you speak.” He began gently. “I do not serve any gnome, nor do I wish to take over anything, especially not Thorn. I do not know who or what you mean by these things. I have but one purpose here, which you already know. I swear upon all that is holy, from this day forth I do not serve anyone or anything. Not anymore. Once I followed the commands of the Smuggler Chief. A good Crocarkil, a fair leader, and a great friend. But now he sleeps forever more beneath the swamps, and his head adorns the third district’s fort walls, stuck atop a pike. The army was ordered by the council to strike every criminal organization, hideout and member, and slaughter them all, even the non-violent ones… All my friends, and colleagues rest in shallow graves dead, I am the last one left of the Smugglers. But I am the Hunter, and the blood of my companions cries out for revenge. No one, not even you brave little knight will stop me from achieving that goal, so that I might reap vengeance upon those who gave the order.”

Confusion marred the pixie face as Caleb’s bold and righteous stance faltered. “I don’t understand… I just do not want you killing the council. They are the good guys…. Right?”

“Not in my eyes young one.”

“You would think that, not that it matters.” A third voice joined their conversation. Striding across the open space came John Nieve Junior, flanked by an equally well-equipped gnome. John appeared different in Caleb’s opinion, his pupils dilated, his flesh drawn tight over bone and muscle, and his veins bulging an unsightly green. Clutched lightly in one hand rested his longsword, the razor point hovering a hairsbreadth above the ground, a large center grip shield adorning his left. He even donned armor in preparation, a coat of glimmering maille and boiled leather strapped across his vitals, and a skullcap secured atop his head. Finally, he wore a leather belt strapped around his waist, covered in bottles, vials, and other such items including a large leather pouch. Caleb even recognized a few of the items amongst the lot, spotting a few small purple flasks in the collection, containing the pain reducer and energizer, and a couple makeshift flashbangs John deployed against his previous reptilian foes.

“What do you mean?” Byrues asked, unsettled by the armored duo’s approach. The human foe would be different than all the others he could tell at once. He smelled heavily of a dozen different potions, each one more potent then the last, and likely driving the man’s heart rate up to dangerous levels. Only a very desperate person would induce themselves to so many magical enhancers at once, but this man seemed able to handle the strain, for now at least. Despite the numerous side effects altering his mental and physical wellbeing before their very eyes. His partner less so, but still he looked dangerous all the same armed and armored to the teeth.

“The council is dead in full, for their betrayal of the city. Even as we speak, steps are being taken to ensure no such traitorous actions can ever be taken again.” John declared, as if he spoke before a large assemblage and not an empty hall. Of course, Darmae still lived, but if he could get the alligatorman to turn around and go back the way he came without a fight he would seize the opportunity. John knew beyond the large doors behind him leading into the council chambers proper, the woman sat upon her throne of bodies, listening to every word. The air pulsed at that moment, and John felt more than saw Scer beginning to creep through the walls, his black magic polluting the wood all around them. Slowly the horrific scar spread even further, each passing second securing the gnome’s victory ever tighter. Soon Darmae would enact the final spell, and gift him control of Thorn forever. John tried to keep his eyes locked on Byures, resisting his urge to skim his eyes upwards towards the rafters, where half a dozen gnomes crouched, hidden in the lofty shadows, their loaded crossbows aiming poison bolts at the imposing Hunter.

“You have no purpose here.” John continued raising his sword towards the mighty Byures. “I urge you depart back to your forests and remain there. I am told you spilt enough blood to satisfy your need for vengeance. Now nearly a hundred families are fatherless at your hand, and yet you desire more? Well trust me when I say, the council are slain. Your fallen are avenged three times over.”

Mulling this new revelation over Byures hefted his poleaxe, resting the weapon across his broad shoulders. Of the five people present in plain sight, everyone except John and Joran looked exceedingly confused, and the Hunter even appeared annoyed. “Is this,” he inquired, turning his long head to stare at Caleb. “Perhaps a part of the gnome takeover you spoke of?”

“I… I do not know. John, what’s going on, I thought we’d come here to save the city. Is that what you’re doing, or did you help defeat the council?” Caleb walked closer to the armored man, fighting to hold back the hurt and uncertainty he felt. Would everyone he knew in this place turn out to be a bloodthirsty criminal or part of some grand conspiracy? It made him long for the rustic simplicity of Eagletown, where a fellow could be trusted to be nothing more than what he claimed. A part of Caleb began to despise the city, for all its beauty and wonder it remained mired in wickedness, down to its very core.

John frowned at this, worrying at his lower lip until it bled. “We’re saving this city from itself, for the good of everyone.” He claimed, though he only half believed it. Joran was much more confident in answering however, puffing out his chest and smiling wickedly.

“The city shall be cured of its weakness, and the rot shall be cut out, root and stem.”

“Wait!” Rainbow exclaimed. He had been silent up to this point, watching the unfolding events from the sidelines, but now he drew attention to the far wall where dark veins were spiderwebbing their away across the living wall. “The counter spell must be cast! See how the cancer spreads, and once it reaches the heart who knows what destructive power he might possess.”

“Counter spell!” Joran the gnome spluttered, his vicious mien collapsing in shock. “No such thing exists, what’s done is done unless Darmae is slain. Even then, another spellcaster of equal power could be found, even if it would take far longer.”

A hush fell over the assembled, and John ground his teeth at the stupidity of his companion, even as Byures’ brow rose.

“So, the murderous witch still lives…” The Hunter mused, his fingers tightening around the wooden shaft of his poleaxe. “I have a reckoning with her, and any of her other ‘leadership’ that still breath. No doubt you would be willing to lie about them as well, for whatever reason.”

“Ah hell, BOLTS LOOSE!” Joran shouted, whipping free his sword. The six assassins took aim, the majority angling their shots to hit the largest target, though two among them chose smaller victims, deciding to end the potential threat this so-called ‘counter spell’ presented to their master’s plans.

Later John would never be able to explain how he reacted so fast. Perhaps it was just the potions enhancing his speed and instincts, maybe it was something else. Abandoning sword and caution and vows John closed the gap and wrenched Calob closer covering the child under his shield as the first bolt thudded home, quivering where the child’s back might have been unprotected a mere moment before. Even as five more shots buzzed down amongst the beset and unsuspecting heroes…

~ Halo: Suffocation ~ [Open]

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The Adventures of Caleb Crowsnest

“Ma’am, sir we’ve got a problem.”

The arched headquarters of Thorne City’s Great Hall was once a thing of immense beauty. Gilded chambers carved from the insides of an enormous ironwood tree and bolstered by white marble walls. Generations of hard labor, sweat, and history was displayed here, and every nook and cranny of the structure contained rich antiquity. Statutes depicting famed council members, honored heroes both remembered and forgotten stood in rigid vigilance, while artistic works bedecked the walls with stories from long ago. Stained glass windows built cast a brilliant rainbow hue upon the polished floors, making the small horde of grim-faced gnomes look slightly less intimidating then they should have been. Still, one could not ignore the green uniformed guardsmen and mushroom constructs lying dead at their feet, or the bloodied weapons clutched in the hands of the conquerors.

All this beauty and violence was lost on Jaron Hosth as he strode purposely through the Central Chambers themselves coming to a halt before a terrible scar in the tree’s heart. It was almost too horrific even for him, a black souled gnome who had known nothing but violence and cruelty all his life. Jaron licked his lips and turned his attention to Darmae, trying to ignore the spreading pestilence that fought the ancient tree for control.

“A potential threat approaches, I have received word from our outlying scouts that he is on his way here to slay the council in their entirety, apparently he’s already made short work of a number military loyalists and opposition troops, with little regard to whom they serve. They call him the Hunter, and I fear there is little we can do to stop him, not with so many of our followers deployed contest any Council Loyalists.”

“This was expected.” Darmae waved the concern away. She was relaxing on an improvised throne, her feet propped upon Mason’s back, a confident smile resting on her scarlet lips. “Setting the gangs and City Watch against one another was bound to unleash a few mighty warriors. If this Hunter is intent on slaughter the council, he will find his work already completed.”

“Most of the council.” Jaron reminded her. “You still breathe and were a member of the council before the coup d’état, and I assume you wish to remain that way. I suggest you vacate the premises until the Hunter has satisfied himself staring at their corpses and departed. I would rather not lose half my remaining troops fighting an enemy when the conflict might be avoided altogether.”

“NO!” A voice, emanating from nowhere, and yet everywhere at the same time interrupted their debate. Both Darmae and Jaron jumped, the latter whipping out his sword at the shocking reverberations. “I need you here, your magic is required!”

Darmae settled back down on her morbid throne, glowering at the growing black scar tearing its way through the tree. “Scer’Pi’Kenes, you rotten git. You near scared me half to death. Still, he’s right I cannot leave, so you will just half to sacrifice a few of your gnomes. Or throw one of our other assets at him if your precious troops are too costly. Either way you will have to keep him out or convince him it is not in his best interests to assault this Chamber, if that means killing him so be it.”

“Send John Nieve.” Scer’s voice exploded from the ether, causing both gnome and woman to flinch. “He may prove capable of such a task.”

“Very well then. You know this John Nieve and where to find him?” Joran inclined his head that he did and Darmae clapped her hands. “Excellent, then you have your man to stop the Hunter. I wish him luck, for, if this beast is as formidable as you describe this John will surely need it. Dismissed.”

The black hearted enforcer bowed. Turning on his heel, he marched from the high chambers, Darmae’s cackling laughter echoing in his ears.

~*~*~*~*~*~

To say the atmosphere in the house was tense would have been an egregious understatement. If Caleb still had his sword, he probably could have cut the tension in the air. His generous host Sara, who had only ever been a nice around him was less than pleased having to accommodate John’s assigned guards-witch, and she made as much perfectly clear with a few rather passive aggressive comments about the company her eldest son kept. Though, Caleb noted, she never outright ordered this new houseguest to leave. Instead Sara busied herself working on a map of some kind, while Mary and Roger whispered in the corner. Hazel for her part seemed perfectly willing to ignore the frosty receival and Sara’s more barbed comments, wandering hither and wither as if she owned the place, always keeping one eye on Kayden.

“Hey, um, Kayden? Could I have a word, over there?” Caleb touched the girl on the shoulder, wanting to lead her out of earshot of the others. The girl gave him a questioning look but followed him into the parlor, letting him guide her onto the azure couch. Witch Hazel kept her distance but wandered into the living space after them, admiring the twin swords hanging over the mantle.

“I’m not certain how to say this.” Caleb began, rubbing the back of his head as he searched for the proper terminology to use. “When I questioned Jake before he got a little offended that I would even bring it up. But it has gotten to the point where I have to ask…”

Kayden’s lips tightened into a thin line, and she shifted a little further away from Caleb, as if she did not trust whatever he was about to say next.

“I haven’t been here for very long, and I don’t mean to pry where I shouldn’t, but I could not help noticing your father has a rather tense relationship with all the other adults here. His brother, and sister, and mother all seem rather short with him. And he uses code words, and is friends with… Strange folk? I mean, I heard him talking to Sara yesterday. He said you didn’t know anything about it, but I don’t think that’s possible. After everything I’ve seen. I was hoping you might help me understand what’s going on between them.”

She crossed her arms, glowering at him. “No, you don’t.”

“What?”

“You don’t know what’s going on, and you were right before; you shouldn’t pry, its rude.” She sat up a little straighter, suspicion flashing in her eyes. “You have shown kindness to my family Caleb and saved my dad yesterday. He told me all about that, and you have my deepest thanks for it. But that does not mean you should know everything about him, and you definitely shouldn’t be asking from me. My dad is an honest man, and… And would never do anything wrong. Just because Grandma doesn’t like his friends doesn’t mean anything.”

“Yeah that’s more or less what Jake said.”

She nodded shortly. “Yes, and he was right.”

Caleb raised a finger, a counterpoint already prepared. “Except, when Sara was talking to him, she declared she did not want any of his criminal coin. And when those lizards attacked, they were demanding a blood vengeance because John’s friend was a burglar.”

“Not his friend, he told me. It was just some unfortunate person that happened across his path. He wasn’t going to let those dirty lizards kill him, even if he didn’t know him.”

“Ah, that part is a little fuzzy.” Caleb gently touched the bruised part of his face. “But I distinctly recall John calling that random unfortunate his friend.”

This caused Kayden’s brow to furrow, and she turned away her confidence on the issue suddenly clouded by doubt. He told her last night that the man he had saved was someone he barely knew. Why would he lie about that? “It’s a common term,” she explained slowly. “He calls everyone friend, its just how he is.”

“You weren’t there,” Caleb continued, convinced he was winning the discussion, whatever that meant. “It wasn’t some casual term; it was actually quite powerful. He was standing up for his man and would not back down even when he was surrounded and threatened with death. Plus, the man called him boss, I heard that too. Random strangers don’t use ‘boss’ as a casual term in this city, do they?”

The girl leapt to her feet slapping Caleb full across the face. The boy gave a startled yelp, his vision swimming as his bruises flared up once again, fresh bloodspots appearing beneath his bandaging. “Why do you hate my father!” She screamed, arms akimbo. Hazel looked startled by this sudden umbrage and rushed over.

Reeling from the sudden blow Caleb hissed in pain, fighting to keep from passing out. He had not realized how sensitive the injury was, or that Kayden might strike him in the first place. “I don’t hate him! I admire him and just wanted to understand what was going on.”

“What do you want me to say?” Kayden continued, choking back tears. “Oh yeah, my daddy’s a criminal gangster who helps run one of the most dangerous syndicates in the city. Well he’s not, you understand? HE’S NOT! HE’S NOT! HE’S NOT!”

Caleb pulled back from the raging girl, startled by the venom she was spouting. “Alright, sorry I won’t bring it up again.”

Snorting Kayden spun around stomping from the room. Hazel stalled on her constant watch, long enough to give Caleb a piercing look. “Word of advice while you’re in Thorn kid.” She grabbed him under the jaw, gently turning his head to get a better view of his wound. “Keep your opinions to yourself, you’ll last longer.” She fished around inside a leather pouch tied to her belt producing a small purple vial which she pushed into his hand. Giving the child a farewell glare, she swept from the room after her young charge, leaving Caleb alone with his thoughts.

The Adventures of Caleb Crowsnest

Together they formed a somber ring around the table, rablin, man, woman, child, and reanimated standing close and rubbing shoulders in the spacious parlor. Even Flower was present, perched upon the back of a large azure sofa. She watched the proceedings through half closed eyes, her wing secured inside a miniature handmade sling, stitched specifically for the task it seemed. She completed the room’s look quite nicely Caleb thought. The decor was no doubt purchased and laid out to suit the late John’s personal tastes. A clear oceanic and sailing theme could be seen throughout the design. Crossed cutlasses hung over the mantle, the walls were painted a beautiful aquatic blue, and the drapes resembled the pure white sales of the ships who dared the mighty brine. Bright carpets from foreign lands were laid upon oakwood floors and several paintings of ships and sea were set high on the walls. Dominating the entire space was a large portrait, depicting the likeness of a younger Sara, and whom Caleb could only assume was John Senior and his children. John the younger and Mary could not have been more than ten and five, and Sara held a baby Marrathew in her arms. They looked so happy, their smiles permanently captured through the artist’s skill, it was clear the masterwork painting had been a prized possession for many years. All said the living space seemed a good location to give John and Herrown’s spirits the closure they deserved.

Still, he was unaccustomed to being surrounded by such finery and Caleb took care where he laid his feet. The gilded carpets looked like they cost more than the average villager in his home of Eagletown made in a year, and surely it was not for walking upon. He skirted the outside edge, as Roger showed him to his place between himself and Jake.

Sara looked to each one of them, wiping away unshed tears with the back of her hand as she held her candle close to her heart. “I will begin.”

Squeezing her candle’s wick between two fingers she murmured an incantation, whispering the name of her lost beloved. A small blue flame blossomed from her fingertips, bright but cool to the touch. Drawing her hand away Sara dipped her head and let her loss and worry of two years slip away, accepting that her husband would never return. Head still bowed she made her wish, uttered so quietly Caleb could not make out what personal wish she desired. Her part done Sara extended her candle to Marrathew, who made his wish and passed it to his sister Mary who in turned helped her daughter Skyla with hers. Around the ring the blue flame went, passed from candle to candle until only Caleb and Roger remained. Accepting the flame from Jake, Caleb held the melting wax close, uncertain what to do or say. The others had all been either whispered their wishes or made very personal requests leaving the boy scared he would say anything wrong. He did not know Captain John; his own involvement having been more or less happenstance two years past the good man’s death. Even this ritual was unfamiliar, the few funerals Caleb had participated in at Eagletown were completely different from this.

Realizing he was holding up the service Caleb bowed his head, whispering a hurried phrase he had heard Elder Eagle say once when they buried an unknown sailor washed upon the tide. “I wish you satisfaction in the journey you leave behind and happiness in the great voyage yet to come. May you find fair winds and following seas Captain John. Farewell.” Giving the ensemble a quick glance to ensure he said nothing untoward he passed the flickering sapphire light to Roger.

Roger’s own wish was soon given, and a small address spoken. His was the most flowery and well delivered of the lot, and Caleb suspected he had practiced during the long midnight hours. The circle complete Sara gave a nod and as one they dipped the candles joining the flames. Wishes, promises, goodbyes, and eulogy all mingled and burning bright upon the largest wishing candle. Then, once again, the process repeated, except this time with Mary starting by uttering the lighting charm. At Herrown’s name the candle glowed a dull scarlet and Skyla broke down completely. Mary tried to console her daughter to little avail, eventually settling the grieving girl upon the couch and taking up both lit candles herself.

Beside Caleb, the younger boy was doing his best to keep a brave face throughout. When the red flame reached him, Jake raised his candle until it shone in his brown eyes, his breath catching until an expression of peace came over him. “Daddy…” His said, so softly Caleb almost missed it. “I wish to grow up and make you proud. I will not let you, or ma, or anyone down. And maybe I will see you again someday.” He clutched the final vestige of his father close, as if trying to recall some distant embrace they once shared. He held the tiny flame near to his small face Caleb feared it might go out, or singe his tunic but Jake seemed unfazed by the fire, and the light burned on. At long last he extended his hand, allowing Caleb to continue the ceremony.

Caleb could say nothing as the fire danced on his candle wick. Even his simple prayer from before felt false and heavy on his tongue compared to what he had just heard. Shoulders slumping, he passed the light on without a word, hoping the others did not think him disrespectful. As the Nieves continued the wishing ceremony Caleb leaned towards to the younger boy. “Do you think you will? See your father again one day I mean?”

Jake nodded, as if such a thing was a certainty. “Of course, I will. I do not remember what he looks like anymore, its been so long, and I was only six when he left. But I know he will recognize me. Their spirits will watch over us forever, until we join them one day with all our ancestors.”

“That sounds nice…” Caleb said as they all leaned forward to light the last mourning candle. The twin fixtures twinkled, one a pure turquoise and the other blood red. Family and friends stood in somber silence, tears dropping unabashedly from several eyes until at last John broke the stillness that hung over them like a shroud. He broke away, gesturing for Rainbow to accompany him a small distance from the mourners gathered around the table.

“You must be Rainbow.” He crouched down to be on level with the small Rablin. Purple and brown eyes locked, both sizing each other up until John offered a hand, which engulfed Rainbow’s own. They shook once and the man rose back to his full height. “I’m glad you found your way here without serious injury. The city is dangerous right now.”

Rainbow shivered, hugging himself tight as John’s simple words brought back a flood of unpleasant memories. “Noticed that myself. No offense, but the place is crawling with lunatics.”

John’s lips quirked upwards despite himself. “Aye, true enough. Anyway, I just wanted to comment on your choice of companions. You’ve got quite a loyal friend in Caleb. He was absolutely determined to find you and would not give up. Frankly…” He lowered his voice so only the rablin heard. “I still owe him a blood debt for saving my life, and he was wounded in the process. Not something repaid easily in my experience. You will not come across kids like that too often. Sticking their necks out for someone they just met. Keep him safe for me, so maybe one day I could reimburse him.”

“I’ll do my best.” Rainbow vowed. He could almost see a part of the elder Captain John in this younger man, and not just from appearance either. The same confident and charismatic air hung around John, emanating from the way he spoke, to his more subtle body language. “Caleb keeps throwing himself into danger for others, which makes it difficult, but he’s been tough enough to survive this far.”

“Then I imagine we’ll all end up owing him quite a substantial debt. One I am happy to shoulder.”

The group broke up soon after with John departing first, leaving Kayden with them to return to his own obligations. Marrathew needing to return to his own business begged forgiveness a short time later following in his elder brother’s wake, leaving the house notably less occupied, despite only two people having left. A polite, but somewhat awkward hung over the family and guests for the rest of the morning, Sara being polite but distracted, and Roger looking none to pleased. They kept casting glances towards smaller ears and attempted on more than one occasion to gather away from their younger charges. Sensing the adults wished to converse without them eavesdropping Caleb suggested he and the other children take their simple luncheon outside to dine with Edward, while Rainbow, Sara, Roger, and Mary talked. Bearing trays of sandwiches, peeled Arrocmor fruit, and wooden beakers of green milk the four youths joined their equine companion on the long grass chatting among themselves, even while their elder counterparts conversed indoors…

The Adventures of Caleb Crowsnest

Whoops

The Adventures of Caleb Crowsnest

When he had been lying abed, Caleb did not fully appreciate the extent of his injuries. Only once he had started on the stairs, descending from the house’s second level did reality strike. The nausea hit first, churning his stomach worse than an ocean storm as his knees wobbled, and the world seemed to spin. Retching he collapsed against the bannister, saved only by Rainbow’s quick action, guiding him into a sitting position before his legs gave out completely. This effort took a serious toll upon the rablin as well, who reclined against the railing beside his young companion, his limbs trembling from the strain.

“You ought to be in bed, resting.” Rainbow chided gently. He brushed his fingers against Caleb’s bruised face, wincing as his digits grazed over the more battered portions. “From the way Roger described things you’re most likely suffering from a rather severe concussion.”

“I’ll be alright, I just need a few seconds to catch my breath.” Caleb waved Rainbow’s concerns away. Right now, he did not have time to sleep. John was hurt for certain; he’d seen the blood seeping through the man’s coat from a nasty gash in his shoulder. Caleb wrinkled his forehead, trying to recall just what had occurred after his intervention in the battle. But harder he tried to focus the more the memory slipped from his grasp, like smoke through his fingers.

“Caleb…” Rainbow sighed in frustration. The stubborn kid would probably hurt himself even worse in his current condition trying to make sure everyone else was alright. “Look, it doesn’t take a professional doctor to see you’re not yourself right now. How about you stay here, and I’ll go get some help. I could even ask after… Jake and John was it?”

“Yeah,” Caleb relented, his one eye that wasn’t swathed in bandages examining Rainbow in turn. The rablin didn’t look like he fared much better. His skin appeared flushed and burned, and more than one scratch or bump marred his emerald features. A sharp odor hung about him as well, smelling of sweet rot, faint but undeniable and strangely familiar, though Caleb could not quite place where he had smelt it before. “You don’t look so shipshape either.”

Rainbow glanced down at his hands; they underwent the brunt of the magical curse. Blistered and raw, they smarted under even the slightest pressure. He bore the pain with a stiff upper lip however, knowing full well it could be worse, much worse. At least the agony just beneath his skin receded to a mere dull ache making it possible to think clearly once more. “You’re right enough, I’m not one hundred percent. I had my own tribulations to undergo once we separated. Touched something I definitely shouldn’t have.” He gave himself a little shake, remembering how his mind and body shattered under the force of the spell. It wasn’t a pleasant memory by any means, so Rainbow forced it to the back of his mind. “At least I can walk more than ten paces before falling over. If you insist on coming downstairs let me retrieve Roger to assist you. He is better suited to such physical labors than I currently am.”

Caleb found this agreeable and promised to remain put until Rainbow returned. Giving the wounded boy one last stern look to ensure he kept true to his pledge, the rablin hopped down the remaining steps and vanished into the foyer in search of Roger. Even if Caleb had wanted to break his word and follow, his body would not have complied. It felt good to just sit and relax. A stray beam of early evening light pierced a small window above the staircase, wreathing him in its warming glow. It had been a long day, from first tying up their ship in that Forest District harbor, to fighting alongside John and waking up in the Nieve’s homestead. The desire to ensure his new friends were safe, and the need to sleep warred in his mind, the latter slowly gaining ground until Caleb could no longer resist the impulse to close his eye.

“Tsk, tsk.”

The sound of a clucking tongue woke him. Roger, being surprisingly strong for a being without any muscle had gathered him up and was slowly caring him back upstairs, Rainbow and Jake and Ribbon at his heels. “I understand your concern for your friends young sir, but I must insist as my patient you remain in bed until tomorrow, at the very least. There is no point in arguing. Clearly if you are falling asleep within five minutes and leaning against that rather uncomfortable piece of banister you desperately need some rest. Well deserved as I understand it too. All of you should rest.” He glanced back towards Rainbow and Jake who were following behind.

“Huh, how did you do that?”

“Do what?” Roger asked, not unkindly.

“Cluck your tongue? You don’t have…” Caleb paused mid-sentence; would it be considered rude to point out the skeleton no longer possessed the amenities of a mortal man? He was rather unfamiliar with the etiquette of the reanimated.

Although he was not offended, Roger was a little surprised by Caleb’s question and unfished statement. He considered it for a moment, then shrugged. “To be honest young sir, I haven’t the faintest idea. I’ve never really considered it. I suppose it is the same way I can speak without lungs or move without tendons and sinew. I just can. Perhaps its something to research… After the seventy thousand, two hundred, and thirty-one other subjects I’m currently investigating.”

“Oh.” Was all Caleb could say to that. Roger pushed the door open to the room and laid Caleb upon the bed, pulling the covers up to his chin.

“Lay still now, I will need to change those bandages. Hopefully, the bleeding will have stopped already, but its best to leave them on just in case, and let the poultices do their work. Head injuries do have tendency to seep and we wouldn’t want you ruining Junior’s old bed now would we.”

“This is John’s room?” Caleb asked, and then before any of his three companions could answer he laid another question on them, turn his head to look towards Jake. “Is John alright? Rainbow said Edward was fine, but I don’t remember anything past killing… Helping John fight those lizards.”

“I think so.” Jake said as Roger continued his work, replacing the herbal wrappings around the left side of Caleb’s face, where the lizard’s serrated claws had done their grisly work. The worst of the damage had fortunately just missed his eye, mostly scourging his neck, cheek, and temple. Jake winced and looked away, remembering how profusely it had bled all the way home, drenching Edward’s back in sticky red. “He told me and Edward to bring you back here to Grandma’s house, and to stay here no matter what. He wanted to find out if his friends were okay and help that man he saved.”

“Was it Dustin?” Caleb asked, he’d taken a liking to their savior back at that tavern, and it would be good to know John and Dustin were together. They seemed very capable men.

Jake shrugged. “I don’t know, I never thought to take a closer look.” I was too worried you and Uncle John were going to die. He didn’t add.

Finishing up his delicate work Roger wrapped the old soiled bandages and tucked them into his pouch for proper disposal later. Patting Jake on the shoulder he guided the younger boy towards the door. “John Junior is a very resourceful man, and more than able to take care of himself. I assure you, I taught him first aid myself, he should be able to handle any minor injuries he acquires. He will be back, as he always is. Now Caleb needs his rest, and you need yours Jake. Don’t try to hide that yawn from me young man, you’ve had a rather excitable day. Your mother and sister and you are staying here for the night, as we are having the John and your father’s service in the morning once Junior returns.” Not that I imagine you will be able to sleep much after everything that’s happened, Roger thought, but any rest you might get would be beneficial. “Rainbow, we have a spare room down the hall you my make use of.” He ushered them out and was about to call Ribbon away as well when the pointer hound jumped up on the bed and curled against the crook of Caleb’s knee. Seeing no reason to disturb them Roger closed the door softly, as Caleb had already fallen back into a dreamless sleep.

The Adventures of Caleb Crowsnest

Despite their momentary setback the reptilian trio shook off the aftereffects of John’s makeshift flashbang, encroaching upon his space bearing a nasty array of weaponry. Lizards, although somewhat smaller than men were considerably better armed pound for pound. Powerful jaws filled by rows of jagged teeth could tear through flesh with ease. Long serrated claws on both their fore and hind limbs made versatile climbing and slashing implements, and their scaly hides prevented all but the most powerful attacks from doing much damage at all. Pile all of that on top of their wicked speed and current state of rabid ferocity meant they were lethal foes indeed. Of course, John was no stranger to violence himself, and stepped in front of the wounded Neil, defending his injured comrade, sword held at high guard ready to deliver death upon any fool who ventured to close. The lizards halted their inexorable advance. Something in John’s eyes warned them, they ought to take this challenge a touch more seriously than they might otherwise have. Even with their three to one advantage.

“Caleb stay back, keep Jake inside and don’t let anyone into that shop. Barricade the door and windows and remain within no matter what happens. No matter what you hear. Keep my nephew safe.” When Caleb hesitated, the swordsman raised his voice to a vicious bark. “Do as I say now!” The boy jumped in surprise at this unfamiliar malice, scurrying back towards the Smithy entrance. John maintained his position as the reptiles began spreading out, encircling the lone man, licking their blades in anticipation. Neil whimpered, clutching his bleeding arm close to his chest as he sank to his knees, muttering pleading prayers to any god who would listen. John kicked him. “Quit crying and draw steel, before they decide they’re man enough to attack.”

Neil shook his head overcome by his sense of hopelessness. “My arm boss, I couldn’t swing a weapon if I had one. They caught me unawares, came out of nowhere. I lost my sword and ran for my life.”

John’s eyes narrowed, and he shifted his position ever so slightly until he was practically standing over Neil. “Who are you? And why have you drawn blood in the public eye? The City Watch will not have this lawlessness in the market square, and certainly not in broad daylight. What quarrel is so important as to risk the gallows?”

The leading lizard seemed to consider this, tilting his head as if in thought. “Our fight is not with you manling! Step aside so justice might be done. Or would you die defending the cohort of a burglar? For there is no greater crime than the desecration of one’s sanctuary! It is folly to defend him.”

“Pah, I doubt you would hold that sentiment to your own victims. Or is it only alright when you do it? Blood vengeance is a two-way street I can ensure you will not be to your benefit. Besides, you are in the wrong any way you slice it and you will find the authorities will concur when they arrive. It would be in your best interest to forgive and forget this ever occurred, and leave this man in my care.” John figured he knew exactly what occurred to enrage these lizard, and what kind of people he was dealing with. Hypocritical, hypersensitive thugs whom Dustin and his three companions had done something to offend. Hopefully Dustin still breathed, but the fate of his friend was a matter to concern him another time. Right now, three angry lizards were bearing down on him from every possible angle and judging by the flickering tongues and shifting feet they were preparing to spring.

The reptile spluttered, clearly incensed by this accusation. His mud brown scales rippled under powerful muscles as he raged. “Do not preach to us! We have not come here to bandy moral philosophy with a manling fool! You are brave, but stupid. We are three and you stand alone. If you do not step aside, we will be forced to slay you, before slitting the throat of that scum you defend.”

John shifted his weight, inching to the left until he could get a good view of Barrow’s Smithy out of his peripheral vision. Caleb had ignored his commands to close and bar the door, but at least he was keeping Jake and Edward inside by blocking the entrance with his body. His cheap sword held in a two-handed grip, watching the entire ordeal from the sidelines. A good kid all in all, if a bit stubborn and bull headed. John felt the corners of his lips quirk up at this thought. Not unlike himself really. Turning his attention back upon the aggressors he narrowed his stance, sword rising until it was pointed directly at the supposed leader of the trio. “No.” He declared, not a hint of hesitation in his voice. “The man of whose life you claim is my friend. Be he a coward, thief, burglar, or anything between I will not stand by and watch you murder him. You have issued your ultimatum, so now here is mine. If you come forward determined to fulfill your sick version of justice know you will not leave this conflict alive. This I swear. Make your decision and be gone.”

The two foes stared across the no man’s land, a sort of realization settling upon them both. One of them would not walk away from this encounter. The lizard’s long tongue slithered out, tasting the air, sensing his chances. Neither would back down, but he held all the cards. The lizard braced himself and gave the smallest of nods.

Like triple chains of brown lightning the lizards sprang into action, their thin scimitar-like swords flashing from every angle, seeking to end the life of this brave, but doomed warrior. They did not count on John being equally stubborn, and trained by Sara Nieve. Like a one-man whirlwind John spun his broadsword over his head parrying two swords and dodging the third, his feet never once coming unplanted. Below him Neil wailed and closed his eyes, sensing it was only a matter of moments before even John’s skill was overwhelmed. Even the best swordsmen could not see in every direction at once.

John caught another sword a moment before it ended his life, forcing the blade and wielder away with a mighty shove, even as the second laid into his shoulder. The embattled warrior did not even feel the blade’s bite, even as his lifeblood seeped from the wound, he spun kicking the lizard who had landed the blow full in the face, sending him sprawling. Before he could take advantage of the downed opponent the other two were upon him, striking with a vengeance. Forced to abandon his defensive position over Neil John back peddled, parrying twin attacks from two separate angles. Again, and again he parried, never seeing the opportunity to repost, every moment a mere heartbeat before death, staved off only by his desperate defense. Yet, despite the intensity of their battle all John could think about was his daughter. Who would provide for her once he failed? Not if, but when he miscalculated by a millisecond he would be sent to meet his ancestors. Who would care for his now fatherless nephew and niece? Who would secret money into his mother’s accounts every month so she could afford to keep the home his father built?

No one… John felt his back press against a wall. The third lizard, having recuperated scurried towards the fight, eager to finish what he started. Nowhere to retreat. This was it. Kayden, Kayden, Kayden. I’m so sorry daughter, beautiful little girl, I failed you. The lead lizard smiled, batting aside John’s sword, and leveling his own, lunging forth to drive it straight into John’s heart, a battle cry hissed in victory.

“Gaaarah-ugh!” The lizard’s face twisted in agony, an expression of shock crossing his face as he crumpled, never knowing what killed him. John roared a berserker’s shout, the battle joy rising in his blood as he pushed himself off the wall barreling into the shocked comrades of the freshly reduced reptilian duo. Caleb stood over his collapsed, unmoving victim his bloodied sword held ready as one lizard turned to engage this new threat, the other squaring off against John. It was his opponent’s turn to scramble in desperate retreat. John came down upon him in a righteous fury, the air humming with the speed and ferocity of his assault. In his peripherals he could see Caleb battling bravely, but losing to the larger, stronger, and more experienced opponent. It was only a matter of seconds John realized. Driving his own foe into the dirt he pounded away until the scimitar broke, and the lizard screamed his final death cry. John did not show mercy. Turning he yelled in fear, not for himself but for his young rescuer. Caleb slipped on a patch of blood, and the iron sword was lost, sent spinning away. The lizard struck, not with his sword but his claws, racking the child across the face. Caleb lifted into the air flying back from the force of the blow and landed hard rolling twice before lying still. The lizard rushed forward, raising his sword to finish his small opponent.

John drew back his arm and let fly. His sword spun faster than the eye could follow striking the lizard hilt first causing him to stumble in surprise. Not wasting a second of his momentary advantage John surged across the ten meter distance, slamming full force into the lizard sending them both tumbling into the cobblestone street, weapons forgotten as they rolled, bit, and clawed for purchase. The reptile was far more suited to this style of combat, John realized to late. They tore at each other tooth and nail the lizard desperately trying to sink his teeth into the soft and vulnerable human throat, John doing everything in his power to ensure that did not happen. The lizard gained the upper hand, forcing John onto his back, drawing his snapping teeth closer and closer to John’s neck.

“No!” Jake stormed from the smithy knife in hand as he stabbed at the lizard; his clumsy blows turned by the reptile’s armored scales. A thunder of hooves followed, and the lizard was sent flying crashing into the wooden walls of the smithy, stunned by the force of the impact. Edward rose to his hind legs, whinnying and striking at the air, with a force that could crush skulls. Realizing he was disarmed, and probably facing almost certain death at the hooves of a powerful stallion the lizard decided discretion was the better part of valor. Sinking his claws into the soft wood of Barrow’s Smithy he scurried up the shear wall and vanished over the roof, leaping from house to house in his flight.

After a few seconds of unprecedented violence peace descended once more on the threshold of the shop. John laid on his back breathing heavily, bloody, but alive.

“Uncle, uncle please don’t be dead.” John felt small hands shaking him as Jake wept openly. John could not remember the last time Jake had cried in front of other people. He had always tried to keep his tears to himself. John smiled, raising his hand to cup Jake’s cheek, soothing the tearful boy.

“I’m okay Jake, just catching my breath. I need you to go check on Caleb, he took a pretty nasty hit, make sure he’s alright first.” Jake nodded and scurried off, attending the other boy.

“He’s stunned,” came the eventual diagnosis. “And his face is all bloody but he’s breathing.”

John released a sigh of relief. The adrenaline was wearing off, and the pain from his shoulder, and many scratches and bruises was beginning to emerge in full force. Wincing John forced himself to his feet, looking to Edward who was dutifully standing watch over the unconscious Caleb.

“Can you carry him and Jake?” He asked, scanning the rooftops for any sign of further attackers. Mercifully, it remained clear, either the lizard had no reinforcements to bring, or they were a fair way off. John was not about to take any chances though.

Edward nodded. “Yes, of course. If Jake holds him on, he seems pretty out of it right now.”

“Good, Roger should attend to him at once. I’m sending you back to the house, we’ll have to put off the search for another time.”

“Aren’t you coming with us?” Jake demand, even as John hoisted Caleb’s body up onto Edward’s back, placing Jake just behind him.

“No, I need to figure out what just happened, and more specifically why. And whether my men are still… If my friends need me.”

“But your shoulder.” Edward argued, sniffing at the nasty wound. “You’ll pass out losing that much blood.”

“I’m tougher than I look.” John winked, but nevertheless he tore off a piece of his shirt, stuffing it unceremoniously into the cut. “See, I’ll live. You three get back to the house and get Caleb in a bed with some of Roger’s medical marvels on that face of his. Stay inside, and do not leave. I’m counting on you Jake to keep everyone safe.”

The boy nodded, a look of fierce determination emanating from him. “I won’t let you down uncle!”

“I know you won’t, you were very brave today. Saved my sorry hide. Ride fast, go straight back and do not leave, and keep that new knife of yours close at hand. Do you remember the way Edward?”

“I never forget.”

“Good, be safe Jake.” And tell Kayden, and mom, and all of them I love them with all my heart He did not add. He watched until the vanished around a corner, before he turned his attention upon his “friend”. Neil lay in a mess of his own making, nursing his injured arm and looking at John with undisguised awe.

“That was amazing… You fought them all at the same time… How did you-“

“Shaddup Neil.” John snapped, his mien switching from genuine affection for his family to ill guarded contempt for the quivering coward laying at his feet. “Twelve and eight-year-old children have more fight in their spines than you.” He grabbed the quaking man bodily by his collar, hauling him to his feet. “Where in the ever-loving hellfire is Dustin? And why did I just have to be saved by my nephew, protecting your sorry rear? Spill Neil!”

The Adventures of Caleb Crowsnest

“Then we’d best be off, just return Mister Dustin’s weapon to him Jake.” John clapped them heartily on their shoulders, giving Dustin a small flicker of the eyes. The action was subtle, even the experienced gang bouncer almost overlooked its importance. He nodded once, retrieving his sword from Jake who was more than willing to pass the heavy weapon off. Leaving the children, the two men stepped off to the side, conversing in low tones.

“…Green skin and one ear. Look, I am not risking my nephew or the other two near the place Dustin, I will keep them distracted at Barrow’s Swordsmithy. Take three of the lads with you and be careful. You remember Nart?”

“Oceanside Enforcer, yeah I recall him. Real tough fella.”

“He’s dead, along with fifteen of his thugs, Boegan just told me. Slain this morning by one of the Woodland Smugglers.” John saw a light of shock appear in Dustin’s eye, and he lowered his voice even further, glancing behind him to ensure the children were not eavesdropping. “Something big is going down, sooner rather than later and all the major gangs are gearing up and gathering muscle, and that includes the City Watch. I’d like to have this Rainbow found and be under cover before then. You’d best hide yourself as well, I’ve had my fill of loss for the day.”

“Don’t worry about me J. I’ll scope the place. If he’s there we’ll scoop him up and be gone like smoke on the wind.”

“I know, you’re one of the best. Meet me at the safe house if you find him or send a runner if you don’t. And try not to get distracted this time.” John finished up and returned to the others who had finished sorting out the travel arrangements. They seemed to busy chattering about what kind of knife they would pick to notice the brief conversation between the two gangsters. Caleb flashed him a suspicious look but said nothing. Dustin flaunted another of his disarming smiles at the boys, before giving John a double thumbs up and vanishing into the shadows from whence he came.

They set off in good order, taking the long way through the winding streets, across mossy roads and a thousand open-air shops. Delicious smells, and delightful sounds keeping them sufficiently distracted. Barrow’s Smithy, as it happened was on the other side of the Market District, and John did not once complain about stalling here and there to appease the fancy of his young wards. Stopping to smell a strange flower here, or purchase sweets there. The seconds ticked by, flowing easily into minutes, and giving Dustin and his men ever more time to search the expansive area within the vicinity of the Rose Palace. After pausing to supply Edward a hearty source of salted water from a talkative spice merchant they started off again, seeming no closer to their eventual goal then they had been a half hour ago. John felt a sharp tug on his jacket sleeve and turned to see a rather emotionally confused Caleb frowning back at him. The boy seemed to be in the midst of a near crisis, almost on the verge of tears, or was that anger? John could not quite tell.

“Excuse me, Mister Nieve.” Caleb said, looking and sounding both embarrassed and exasperated at the same time.

“Don’t worry about none of the Mister stuff, just call me John. Or J.J., or just J. if you prefer. All my friends do.” He winked. “Aren’t we friends Caleb?”

“Yes of course, but John…” Caleb paused, glancing back the way they had come, the seedy tavern where John had acquired his information only a few streets back. A sharp kid this one, John realized, or really determined. “Its just, you said you got a lead of some kind, and maybe knew where Rainbow was. I know you want to help, and get us new blades, but this sword of mine has served me well. I appreciate the offer, but and if you think you could find Rainbow shouldn’t we rush straight there?”

“Brave adventurers need trusty steel to see them through the day.” John opined. “And where we’re going, we’ll need everyone armed. Just in case. Do not worry about Rainbow, he’ll be alright. Hey, he might even find his way to us. Trust me on this one Caleb. I won’t let you down.”

“But that doesn’t make any sen-“

“Look, you’ve been in the city proper for how long?”

Caleb frowned, sensing where this was going. “A couple hours…”

“I’ve been here my whole life, alright? It’s a big city, lots of districts, and unfortunately a lot of nasty people. You remember those women who tried to steal Edward? If you want to find your friend, and be safe doing it you’ll follow my lead. Okay? Okay good. Come along everyone.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It did not take long for the four men to determine Rainbow wasn’t in the Rose Palace vicinity. Nobody they spoke to claimed to have seen him, and even a few coins rubbed together under noses didn’t produce any answers. One local muttered about a bunch of noisy birds causing a racket, but otherwise the search proved futile. Dustin was about to call it quits when one of his goons nudged him, jerking his head towards an unimposing tree residence.

“Hey, Dustin.” The man chortled. “That there’s Miz Liz’s abode don’t’cha know?”

“Liz the thief?” Dustin snorted, wondering why the man had just lost his mind. “She’s another danger to worry about here, I suppose. Not hazardous if you leave her alone though. But what about it?”

“Didn’t’cha hear, ol’ Liz got mixed up with the wrong score. Got herself knocked on her pretty tail I heard and bagged by the Watch.”

“I heard about that too. Bet’cha she’s madder n’ a wet rooster. Probably have a hit out for whoever helped catch her.” Another man named Bysor supported, rubbing his hands together.

“Which means her gang o’ enforcers are probably scattered to the four winds.” Dustin finished a large grin spreading across his face. “Maybe this trip won’t be for nothing after all. I’ve always wandered what that petty thief had stored in there. Course, someone will still have to go let J. know we couldn’t find his rablin… Neil you go.”

“Me?” Neil moaned, looking at his boss in disbelief. “C’mon I want a share O’ th’ loot. Send Bysor instead.”

“Nope, Neil you’re going. Hurry along and get that message to John. You two follow me.”

The unlucky Neil scurried off, glancing jealously back at his more fortunate comrades who would get to split the spoils of the raid amongst themselves, no doubt retrieving nothing of interest for him. For their part, Dustin and his two remaining cronies were licking their lips in anticipation gathering at the base of the tree to produce climbing implements, and giving the local area a quick final check to make certain no one was spying on their burglary. “Act natural, pretend like we’re meant to be here.” Dustin hissed out the side of his mount before very inconspicuously throwing a grapple up towards the higher branches and beginning to climb.

He did not make it far.

A dagger spun from the brush burying itself blade first between his shoulder blades. Dustin gasped, as the air was forced from his body, and then went limp falling backwards towards the ground. His men yelled in shock, drawing weapons and turning to face this new threat. Liz, freshly escaped from her prison cell surged from the undergrowth flanked by her own lizard-folk goons. Seven in total they fell upon the human gangsters who fought bitterly for their very lives. Steel clashed against steel, and one lizard fell mortally wounded to Bysor’s sword before he collapsed In turn, lizard jaws clamped around his throat. The other man tried to run but was cut down, his life ended by a flurry of enraged thrusts.

“Filth! Thieves! Burglars!” Liz raged, standing over the four corpses that littered her bloodstained doorstep. The other lizards hissed in agreement, not often were they drawn to violence, preferring petty theft to murder. But seeing the hideout of their boss so vagrantly dishonored brought them to bloodlust unlike any other. “The other, the one that ran off before they attempted to enter my home. You three pursue him, cut his throat and show him what happens to those who try and steal from me.” She indicated a trio of her five-remaining crew. They hissed and took off, in hot pursuit of an unsuspecting Neil. Liz had been in a furious mood ever since her prize had been stolen, and she was carted off to prison earlier that same day. As if any cage could hold her for long! She’d escaped in record time, regathered her crew and returned home to their headquarters only to find a trio of humans attempting to break and enter. Insanity, she left the place unguarded for a few hours and the roaches start moving in. Snorting she kicked at Dustin’s lifeless body, retrieving her dagger from his spine.

Magically she summoned her climbing steps, leading her followers up into the upper floors where, stepping over the threshold her rage returned. The simple home was a wreck. Feathers littered the floor, furniture was scattered, and her prize chest... Once protected by a plethora of dangerous curses lay shattered on the floor. Liz howled in fury, drawing her daggers until her eyes alighted upon the still form lying at her feet, in a puddle of black ooze. The rablin she had robbed? Slowly she replaced her daggers into their sheaths, her long tongue working the air, scenting out the story. The rablin had taken the full brunt of the magical attack, but something else had shattered the chest, no doubt saving his life. Where the bird feathers came from, she did not know, or particularly care. “Grab him, and secure him.” she ordered, waving a hand at the unconscious rablin. “We’ll question him later, after I sharpen my blades. I’ll make him sing like a bird.”

Sara Nieve would die, the burglars’ friend would die, and this rablin and whoever had stolen her treasures would die as well. All in good time. No one wronged Liz the Thief and lived to brag about it. No one!

The Adventures of Caleb Crowsnest

Uncertain whether they should turn and leave the adults to their conversation or press on and pretend they had not heard the incensed exchange the two boys hesitated, Caleb especially wishing he wasn’t there. Jake wore an unusually embarrassed expression, and he tugged on Caleb’s sleeve. “C’mon, we shouldn’t be here. It’s not polite to eavesdrop.”

Caleb did not resist and let himself be led to a different part of the garden. Jake was subdued as he explained how to gather and bundle the herbs. The task at hand was not difficult, relying mostly on a good eye to identify the correct plant, and whether it would survive harvesting. They would then pluck a leaf, or bit of root and add it to a small bundle and wrap it up using nettle vine. Jake even explained some of the plants, some familiar like goldenrod and yarrow, and others strange or exotic like dragonstem, and bargoro vine. Roger of course did not plant his earthly remedies in any organized manner, so the process took a fair amount of time, just searching amongst the massive garden of different flowers, bushes, and weeds. Working diligently the pair soon fashioned together several of the herbal packets, Caleb managing to complete two, and Jake who was far more experienced putting the finishing touches on his fourth. The younger boy, stepping gingerly to avoid crushing any of the precious plants underfoot stepped closer to inspect Caleb’s offerings.

“These should do. You do not need to wrap them up so tight, you want enough space between the vine to allow the juices to leak through when we crush and wet them, but not so much that any plants escape. Nicely mixed though, especially on this second one. This should be more than enough for Roger’s purposes.”

They exited the herb garden and began the march back to the rear of the house, Jake unobtrusively taking the long way around to avoid the mysterious man and Sara, if they were still there.

“So…” Caleb began, treading carefully lest he offend or embarrass his younger friend. “Was that your uncle earlier?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah. That’s Uncle John.”

“Sara didn’t seem to happy about seeing him?”

“Grandma doesn’t like his gambling.” Jake explained a little to quickly. “Says its either a roll of dice or cheating.”
“Is gambling illegal in Thorn city?” Caleb asked, and then immediately wished he could take the words back as Jake’s face turned red, and he spluttered angrily.

“No! He doesn’t do anything illegal at all and I don’t have any criminals in my family! He’s a good man, who just wants to do good by his family.” He glared daggers at the older boy, crossing his arms across his small chest. “Just drop it alright, they had a disagreement. What does it matter you anyway?”

“Nothing, sorry.” Caleb gasped a little shocked by his outburst. He decided to leave the obviously sensitive subject to rest. They rounded the corner to find the entire Nieve family gathered. Including another stranger Caleb could only assume was John and Sara’s youngest son Marrathew, a thinning man in his early twenties. A heavy atmosphere hung over the small gathering, and Caleb guessed Roger had just finished relating the news for a second time. John was standing a bit apart from the others, as if he was unwelcome but couldn’t necessarily be denied his right to grieve amongst the others. There was a thoughtful air to his mien as he watched his daughter Kayden pet a compliant Edward’s gilded mane. He glanced up as the two boys approached, a surprised but genuine smile breaking the shroud of sorrow that hung over his features.

“Ah, you must be the Caleb I’ve been hearing so much about.”

Caleb nodded, passing off his herbal bundles to Jake. The younger boy looked rather pensive, but said nothing, gathering the packets together and ambled towards Roger who was still diligently working on Flower’s numerous injuries. John stepped forward, encompassing Caleb’s hand in his own, larger calloused palm. They shook once before parting, John stepping back to examine this strange youth further.

“I would like to thank you, on behalf of all my family for bringing this news to us. We never knew what occurred, we could assume of course for the ocean is a dangerous and unpredictable force. But we might have been forever uncertain as to his fate. You have done us a great service today. And returning Ribbon to her home as well, such kindness cannot be easily repaid. But I would like to offer you anything in my power to acquire. Say the word, and I will see what I can do.”

“John, don’t make promises we cannot –“

“Mother,” John released a trouble sigh cutting Sara’s warning off. “Please, I told you I will handle everything.” He looked back to Caleb. “You need not make your request now. It can wait if you require.”

“Actually, there is something.” Caleb said, chewing thoughtfully on his lower lip. “But I meant to ask it of Doctor Roger.”

“Oh, well, erm. I cannot speak for him per say, but I will do my best to convince the good doctor to heed your desire.”

“My home, the reason why I departed on my journey originally was to find a healer who could cure the Black-Eyed-Blight. It has stricken so many of the good folk and threatens to wipe us out. If not from the disease itself, then from the quarantine the kingdom has laid upon us.”

John seemed caught off guard by this, and he glanced uncertainly towards Roger. “What do you know of the Black-Eyed-Blight?”

Roger paused in his ministrations, running two skeletal fingers across Flower’s feathered head as he searched through his four centuries of medical knowledge. Diseases, ailments, cures, and practices changed over the years, evolving with the knowledge of the afflictions themselves. “I do not recognize the name, though if its symptoms match it’s rather descriptive title it could be one of ten different plagues known more professionally under different monikers, or a new one altogether. I cannot say for certain without a detailed inspection of a victim. Of course, I will bring several texts on the known diseases with that particular symptom, and a blank one should it prove undocumented.”

“You’ll come back with me!” Caleb cried in excitement, despite the somber mood.

“I could not say no at this point.” Roger admitted, returning to his work on Flower’s wing. “Though, it would be wiser for you to remain here in Thorn, where you are less likely to become infected. I may not need be concerned with the worries of the living, but you are still vulnerable.”

“You could stay with us.” Sara offered. “Heavens knows this house is large enough to keep you, and we have a nice stable for your horse as well.”

“Hippocampus.” Edward interjected, making Kayden nearly jump out of her skin. The poor girl having not realized the beautiful golden horse she had been petting for the last half hour had been sentient enough to speak. “And I’d prefer to go back to the ocean but thank you for the offer.”

“We have a ship docked at the forest district,” Caleb explained as the members of the Nieve family who had not been aware of Edward’s uniqueness or sentience stared openly at the amused Hippocampus. “Rainbow, Flower, Edward, and I will be perfectly comfortable there, and we wouldn’t want to intrude on your hospitality. But as he said, thank you for the offer.”

“Of… Of course.” Sara said regaining her composure. “And where is Rainbow? I would have liked to see him again.”

“I don’t know.” Caleb admitted, feeling his heart sink at the loss of his friend. “He’s been missing for hours now, ever since we docked. And after the state Flower found us in, I hate to think anything bad has happened to him.”

“Not to worry.” John crossed his arms, a rather pleased expression on his face. “I have some friends who know this city like the back of their hands, and everyone in it. If they cannot find a foreign Rablin wandering the streets, no one can.”