Storygasm

Death Walker…  The scorn and fear invested in those two words was always the same.  Everyone feared them, starting at an early age.  Sometimes children were tested by roaming Death Walkers, to determine whether they had what it took to become one themselves.  The test was very painful and few managed to get around it.  Jaydren himself had a jagged scar on his left hip that sometimes bothered him.  There was reason for the fear.

But Jaydren wasn’t one  to not take advantage when it suited him.  Why let all that precious fear go to waste, eh?

Bill, the bartender, slowly set a pitcher of the requested ale on the table along with a clean mug and pushed back the three copper coins Jaydren had dropped.  “Now, you can have those back.  I won’t take your money.”

Smiling, Jaydren pushed them back.  “No, no, I’m afraid I can’t have that.  Can’t say I’ve taken unfair advantage, can we?”

“N-no, sir.  Thank you, sir.”  The bartender made no move to collect the coins.

Jaydren pulled his coat tighter around his neck, obscuring the hated necklace once more.  It was amazing how much power a simple trinket of metal had.  From vagabond to “sir” in a heartbeat.  He poured himself a mug of the ale and took a deep swallow.  Not terrible, but it would do.

“How about some of that delicious stew I smell?” Jaydren asked politely when Bill didn’t budge from his frozen position.

Bill almost spilled the contents of the bowl onto Jaydren’s lap in his haste to keep the Death Walker happy.  Jaydren took a tentative bite of the stew and sighed melodramatically in a display of satisfaction.  The bartender cracked a slight, hesitant smile, as if unsure of how even so small a gesture would be received, thought better of it and made his cautious way back to the bar.  He stood there the rest of the night, polishing the same mug, trying his hardest to pretend Jaydren didn’t exist.

Silently, Jaydren ate his way through three bowls of stew, mulling over what he had heard that day, on the road.  Ral was a small town, having no importance in the grand scheme of things, other than as a stop-over for merchants headed towards the capital city, Jarla.  The townsfolk he had talked had the usual gossip about their neighbors and the imagined ill-doings of the city council and all that nosense.  However, when all the usual talk had died down, most of them grew quiet and mentioned hearing things, strange calls late at night.

Jaydren knew better than to press for more information from men already embarassed to have even spoken up at all.  But they all said the same things, cries like the howling of wolves, except there were no wolves anywhere near Ral.  He had hoped for a bit of rest coming out this way, but it seemed duty always called.

It looked like this Death Walker was going to have some work to do.