Some Things Are Better Left Lost

[Talas]

Some Things Are Better Left Lost: Part One


My name is Ratarnin, but everyone calls me “Rat”. This led to many a fight in my younger years, but I have grown to accept it. My expertise is tracking, finding those who are lost and those that may not want to be found. I’ve made a pretty good living for myself, so I am able to pick and choose what jobs I accept. I was making my way through the village of Cove one sunny, summer day when I was approached by an elderly woman.

“Are you the Tracker Ratarnin?” she asked me. “Aye, I am.” I replied. She proceeded to tell me of her son. Of how he was impetuous, how his spirit was too wild for life on a farm. He craved action, adventure. Normally, I would have said thanks but no thanks, but there was something in her voice that compelled me to take the job. Even today, as I think back, I cannot place what it was. A mix of hope and resignation, perhaps. Like she knew that her son was gone, but held hope that he may still live. I told her that my fee may be too steep for her, but she produced a bag full of gold. “My life savings. Gold does not concern me. The only thing that concerns me is what happened to my son.”

I knew full well that I couldn’t refuse her now. I took the bag, and asked some more questions. Apparently, his last known whereabouts were the city of Britain. I had but one more question. “What is your son’s name?” I asked. She lifted her eyes to meet mine. I could see the sadness in them, the years of constant worry and the pain of not knowing. “His name is Deric.” she replied. I nodded, took her hands in my own, and met her gaze. “I will do my best, Milady” I said. “One more thing” she said. “He wears a ring made of silver, inset with pieces of jade. It belonged to his father”.

I nodded, and then gave her my best reassuring smile. I then turned, and strode toward the city gate. I could feel her eyes upon me, could feel the sorrow her gaze carried. I set off toward Britain, figuring I would find nothing more than a forgotten tombstone in a dark corner of Britain Cemetery. What I found was much more than I had bargained for………..

[Talas]

Some Things Are Better Left Lost: Part Two


I arrived in Britain early the next morning. I felt almost guilty, as I figured this would be an open and shut case. All I had to do was make my way to Britain Cemetery and speak with the caretaker there. I made my way through the bustling city toward the cemetery.

Luck was on my side that day, as I was able to catch the caretaker before he began his daily work. “I need to see your burial records for the past three years” I said. With a sharp glance, he turned to look at me. His features reminded me of a weasel, all angular features, wide mouth, and pointed nose. “Won’t be easy” he muttered, “Many have died over that span, I reckon”. I produced a bag containing fifty gold coins. “For your trouble” I replied. Upon seeing the bag, he broke into a wide grin. “Ah!” he exclaimed, “Maybe it won’t be as hard as I thought!”

He turned toward his dwelling, and bade me to follow. We entered the small shack, and he led me to a small desk in the corner of the room. Upon it sat a large, leather-bound tome. “Who is it you are looking for?” he inquired. “A man by the name of Deric.” I responded. He nodded once, and began to search his records. After approximately half an hour, he shut the book. “Well, I am afraid I cannot find anyone buried here bearing the name Deric.” He said. “Did you go back the full three years?” I asked. “Did you one better” he said, “I went back five”.

I thanked him for his time, and made my way back toward town. I must admit I was a bit puzzled. Could this Deric still be among the living? I decided to stop at my favorite tavern, the Blue Boar, and think about it over a mug of ale. Sitting in my usual spot, I placed my order. I rubbed my temples, trying to get my thoughts in order. “Rough day, friend?” asked the bar keeper. I returned his question with a smile. “Nothing I can’t handle, friend.” I replied. He handed me my mug, and went back to tending the bar.

I sat there for what must have been an hour, trying to plan my next move. “Where are you, Deric?” I said. “What did you just say?” asked the bar keep. “Oh, nothing!” I replied, startled. I didn’t realize I had spoken aloud. “I could have sworn you said the name Deric” he said. “Well, I did” I replied, “Have been hired to find him”. He went on to tell me that he used to employ a boy named Deric, but he got mixed up with the True Britannians. “Was this boy originally from Cove?” I asked. “Yes, he did mention that he came from there.” I was told. I proceeded to tip him twenty-five gold pieces. I now had a solid lead, and daylight was wasting……….

[Talas]

Some Things Are Better Left Lost: Part Three


“May I help you?” the clerk behind the desk asked. It was late afternoon when I arrived at the True Britannian headquarters, and I was surprised to find anyone still there. I could tell by the look in her eye and tone of her voice that she was less than thrilled with the prospect. “Yes, my good lady, I certainly hope that you can.” I replied, ignoring the unpleasantness. “I am looking for a man named Deric. I was told he was a member of your faction at one time, and was wondering if you had any record of him”.

With a loud sigh and a face, she came to her feet. “Sir, I am sorry, but as you can see, I am rather busy here” she said. I looked at her desk. Other than the leftover scraps of her lunch and the day’s news report, I didn’t see anything resembling work. I reached into my pack, and produced a bag of fifty gold coins. “I would certainly compensate you for the inconvenience, as I can see that you are extremely busy” I said, trying with all my will to keep the sarcasm out of my voice. “OH, well, uh, I think these documents can wait until tomorrow!” she exclaimed. It never ceases to amaze me how well gold motivates people.

She quickly took the gold and stashed it in one of her desk drawers. She then went to a scroll rack that was hanging on the wall. “Who is it you were looking for again?” she asked. “A man by the name of Deric” I replied, “If you wouldn’t mind, could you check your records from three years ago until now?” She then began to search. I managed to ignore her grumbling, and found a chair near a window.

After about twenty minutes, I heard her stop. “I think I found something” she said. “We did have a recruit named Deric at one time. He joined us almost three years ago”. I was elated at the prospect of a good, strong lead. “I see. Do you have any record of where Deric could be found now?” I asked. She unfurled the scroll some more and continued reading. “Hmmm, says here that he was assigned to a patrol near Papua. I am afraid there isn’t much more”.

She then looked up at me expectantly. I could tell exactly what the look on her face meant. I reached into my pack and produced another bag of gold. I was definitely earning my path in Sacrifice this day. She stashed the second bag with the first, and began to read again. “It says here that the patrol was there because of reports of Shadow Lord activity in the area. Wait a minute! According to this, the patrol was ambushed, and all members are either listed as missing or confirmed killed” she said. She looked up at me again, but I saw no greed in her eyes this time.

I thanked her for her time, and left the building. It was early evening by this time, and I decided to take a room at The Wayfarer’s Inn. Tomorrow, I would make my way to Papua. I was hoping to find something that would prove that Deric was dead. I had no idea I would find that and more…………

[Talas]

Some Things Are Better Left Lost: Part Four


I arrived in Papua the following afternoon. I might have arrived earlier, but I decided to return to the Blue Boar and revel in the excesses of Britain. After making a mental note to tithe some gold at a Shrine to offset the previous night’s debauchery, I took stock of my surroundings.

I had been to Papua many times, but I still could never get used to the smell. The stench of wet earth and stagnant water hangs over the city like a damp blanket, and there is no escaping it. It didn’t help that I was still feeling the effects of the night before, but I would just have to do the best I could.

I stepped down from the altar, and made my way out of the Tricks of the Trade magic shop. I must admit I wasn’t sure where to start. I was pretty sure there would be no point in attempting to find the site of the ambush. Three years is a long time, and anything that would have been left behind would have fallen prey to scavengers, both human and animal. So, I decided to ask around town.

Fortunately, Papua isn’t a large community. I figured the Just Inn would be my best bet, so I made my way there. The Just Inn is the one place in Papua that a person can actually feel comfortable in. At least you don’t feel like you are in the middle of a swamp while inside.

I entered the Inn and approached the desk. “Hello, my good man!” bellowed the innkeeper. “How may I help you on this fine day!” I ignored his overzealous greeting, and prepared to reach into my pouch for a bag of gold. “I need some information, friend” I replied with a smile. “Ah, information!” he bellowed. “I am a tad busy at the moment, but will help you as much as I can!” I looked around the empty room, finding no one waiting or anything resembling work to be done. Rolling my eyes and sighing, I put the bag of gold on the counter. His eyes lit up, and he immediately snatched the bag and put in under the counter. “Aha!” he exclaimed “I think my schedule just opened up!”

Grabbing a pitcher of ale, he led me to a table near the back of the room. He poured two mugs of ale, and offered me one of them. “So, what is it you are wanting to know” he asked in a low voice. I told him of the search for Deric and what I had learned so far. “Ah, let me think a moment. Yes, I remember the ambush. They brought the survivors back here, but I don’t remember the boy you describe” he said. “Were the dead brought back too?” I asked. “Yes, they were recovered, but, if I remember correctly, he wasn’t among the fallen either” he replied. “Do you know why the patrol was even sent here?” I asked. “We sent for help, and they answered” he replied. I was puzzled now. “Help with what?” I asked.

He leaned in close, speaking just above a whisper. “Well, between you and me, I heard those Shadow Lords were up to no good. Heard foul tales of secret labs, all sorts of wicked experiments going on. All sorts of crazy rumors! I even heard they were making people drink Daemon Blood, just to see what it would do to them!” He took a long drink from his mug. Beneath his bravado, I could tell he was very uneasy with the subject. “We had some locals go missing. At first, we figured maybe they wandered too far from town, or just up and left, but then we would find their bodies. Some would be horribly mutilated, others, well, would be….changed, I guess. Like they weren’t quite human anymore. It wouldn’t surprise me a bit if any survivors were taken away by those bloodthirsty savages!”

I quickly asked my next question, to keep him on the subject. “Has there been anything out of the ordinary that has happened since then?” I asked. “Well, there is one event that stands out. About six months after the ambush, a man started coming around here. At least, I think he was a man. He always wore a hooded cloak, and I never got a good look at his face. He would often leave in the early evening, and not return until almost dawn” he said. “Did he have any other distinguishing features?” I asked. “Well, he always wore a ring on a chain around his neck. Was a beautiful ring, looked to be pure silver, inset with pieces of jade” he said as his eyes glazed over, his greed barely contained.

My heart nearly leapt from my chest. This man had to know what happened to Deric. “Does this cloaked man ever return here?” I asked. “Well, he disappeared for a while, after a Shadow Lord patrol was found brutally murdered. I always suspected he may have something to do with it, but that’s not my business!” he said with a wide, disturbing grin. “He comes in, from time to time, always toward the end of the week” he said.

“One more favor, good sir. Could I see what name he uses to sign in to your fine establishment?” I asked. “Hmmm, I don’t know, that kind of violates merchant/customer protocol…..” I produced yet another bag of gold, thinking that I may have to raise my rates after this job. He quickly pocketed the bag, and got to his feet. “Come with me” he said. He led me to his office, and produced his ledger. After about 10 minutes of searching, he looked up. “Here it is” he said, pointing to a name. I looked to where he was pointing, and saw a name, written in a flowing script. The name written was “Talas Darkblade”……..

[Talas]

Some Things Are Better Left Lost: The Conclusion


There I sat, at the same table I had occupied the previous two nights. I must admit, I was beginning to feel foolish, waiting for a man that may or may not make an appearance. I was about to give up for the night and head to my room when I heard it. I have heard many a horse gallop, but this was different. I was just about to get up to investigate, when the sound abruptly stopped. I heard heavy footsteps outside, and the door to the inn opened. In walked the man I was waiting for. He wore a hooded cloak, completely obscuring his face. I studied him as he walked by my table. He was large, and powerfully built. He moved with no wasted motion, like a predator stalking for prey. As he moved past my table, I caught the faint smell of brimstone.

I watched as he approached the innkeeper. “My usual room” he said in a melodious voice that was both attractive yet filled with menace. The innkeeper nodded and produced a key. The man took the key and made his way toward the rooms. After he was gone, the innkeeper looked at me and nodded. This was my chance, maybe the only one I would get. I drained my mug of ale for a bit of “liquid courage”, and got to my feet. I took a deep breath, and started toward the rooms.

I stood at the door for what must have been five minutes. All I could think about was the very large sword he carried, and the feeling of dread I had when he first appeared. Summoning my last reserves of courage, I knocked on the door. At first, I thought he wouldn’t answer, perhaps I was hoping he wouldn’t. Then I heard heavy footsteps coming toward the door.

The door opened a crack. “Wrong room” came a voice from the darkness. “No, actually, I need to speak with you” I managed to reply. My fear was threatening to engulf me, but I knew this was my one opportunity. “This had better be good” the voice said. The door then opened a bit more, and I pushed it open enough to grant me entrance.

I looked around the room. The curtains were open, allowing the moonlight to shine through. There was but one candle lit, casting shadows on the walls. “Please, sit down” the cloaked man said in a voice that sent shivers down my spine. I took a seat at the small table near the window, while he remained standing by the door.

“So, what is it you needed to bother me for?” he asked, with just a hint of malice in his voice. “Well, I am searching for someone” I stammered, trying hard to stay in control. “And what, may I ask, does that have to do with me?” the cloaked man asked. “The man I am searching for was rumored to have been killed near here. He was a member of the True Britannians, and wore a ring made of silver, inset with pieces of jade. His name is Deric” I said. The cloaked man’s head turned sharply toward me, and he stalked over to the window.

I could see the moonlight reflecting off the very ring I just mentioned, as he was wearing it on a chain around his neck. “Deric, a name I haven’t heard in some time. Who was it that sent you to find him?” he asked. “His mother” I replied. The cloaked man appeared to shake his head, and I heard him mutter something under his breath. “Deric is dead, he died at the hands of the Shadow Lords” he said. “Well, if that is the case, then that makes you a thief. The ring you are wearing around your neck belonged to Deric and his father before him” I said.

The cloaked man turned to look at me. I felt my blood run cold, as I could feel the anger emanating from him. “I am no thief” he growled. “Then how did you come to possess it? If he died in the ambush, he couldn’t have given it to you” I pressed. “The lucky ones died in the ambush” he muttered, barely audible. Perhaps foolishly, I decided to press him even more. “So you are admitting you WERE there! How many of the survivors did you take back to your lab? How many had to die needlessly in your twisted experiments?” This man was obviously a Shadow Lord, and responsible for Deric’s death. “But all your experiments failed, didn’t they, so you had to murder the entire patrol to hide your failure. But not before you killed Deric and stole his ring. I will be alerting the authorities” I said. I got to my feet, and turned toward the door. “You FOOL!” he bellowed. “I AM DERIC!”

With two fluid steps he was before me. He grabbed me by the throat with one hand, and lifted me off my feet. With the other, he drew back his hood. I was instantly terrified by what I saw. His teeth were sharp and pointed, but that wasn’t what filled me with fright. It was his eyes. His eyes were a glowing orange, not unlike the embers of a dying fire. He stared directly into my eyes for what seemed like an eternity. The room filled with the smell of brimstone, and I was beginning to lose consciousness. I was beginning to see spots before my eyes, starting to fade out when he threw me to the floor.

I immediately began gasping for air. My head swam; my thoughts were a jumbled mess. “It’s all true” I thought to myself. This poor man was forced to drink Daemon Blood! I heard the heavy footsteps heading toward the door. “Wait” I managed to say in a ragged voice. “What do I tell your mother?” He turned and walked back to me. He knelt down, and took off the necklace bearing the ring. “Here” he said. “Give this to her, and tell her you found my grave here in Papua”. He grabbed my hand, and pressed the ring into it. He then rose, and produced two large bags of gold from his pack. He placed the bags upon the small table by the window. “Give one of these bags to my mother, and keep one for yourself” he instructed. With that, he turned and strode out of the room.

I lay back on the floor, attempting to compose myself. I managed to stand, and went to the window. In the moonlight, I saw him out in the street. He produced a small statue from his pack and made some strange gestures. All at once, a metallic steed appeared! He then rode off into the night. I collected the gold and then hastily retreated to my own room.

I knew full well that sleep was not going to come that night, so I sat near the window, gazing at the moon and stars. I played the events of the night over and over in my head. I still could not believe what I had learned, but all I had to do was look at the ring I held in my hand to know that it was no dream. I would of course give the ring and gold to his mother, and tell her that her son was dead. I also knew this was no lie, as her son truly was gone. As the sun crested the horizon, I decided to make my way back to Cove to finish the job. As I walked toward the main lobby of the inn, a thought occurred to me: there are fates worse than death, and some things are better left lost.