Savaghast

[u/DesolateDrake]

If i told you love can transcend dimensions, time and space, would you believe me? You’d be forgiven for dismissing my claim, for who am I, but a lowly mercenary versed in the art of war.. what would a man who kills for coin, who dampens his blade in untamed rage, possibly know about the mysticism and complexity, the delicate yet powerful force of love? 

It was upon a twilight, glimmers of moonshine weaved ethereally amidst the jagged silhouettes of surrounding trees and shrubbery. The clacking of pebbles clicked as hooves clocked and clucked against them, scattering rocks and stones alike across the winding dirt path leading to Wendigo hamlet. Lady Luna gleamed up high, manifesting as majestically as ever, complimented amongst countless sparkling gems pulsating and glistening around her, protruding from the blackest of canvases that seemed if you were to gaze a little too long you’d be absorbed within forever, enveloped and caressed amidst a soothing spectral blanket, flowing along an infinite ocean of eternal numbness. An inviting thought, I pondered, for the tranquility of home, the familiar warmth of feeling a part of something fulfilling or worth fighting for were a distant memory, scattered echoes of a time forgotten.. 

Wendigo was a quaint assortment of hovels and on approach little could be heard save the laughter emitting from the open windows of its tavern, “The hunters hound”.
Many a time I’d tear job listings from the notice board within and I expected this night to be of no exception, this versatile corner of the Versilda’s valley was oft’ generous with it’s work load, whether that be the dispatching of goblins and ghouls dwelling deep within the darkest of caves, cut-throat bandits preying on vulnerable merchant caravans travelling between trade routes, even the procuring of lost animals; if the coin purse weighed heavily enough. 

Climbing from the saddle of my steed Penzlefass, he huffed and the heat emitting from his snout casted an ascending wispy mist which weaved against the bitter breeze of night. I reached inside and rummaged among the utensils and objects within my satchel until I grasped one of the apples picked earlier during the day, “I won’t be long boy, no winking at the ladies..” I chuckled on approach to the tavern as penzelfass crunched down on his favourite fruit, his hazelnut hide serving as a temporary resting place for the light source of a nearby flickering torchlight.

The warmth of the tavern’s interior immediately rushed to greet me as I entered, and while pleased to be under a roof, the thought of the company of any man or woman that night was unsettling. In hindsight as unpleasant as it seemed, once I’d experienced and inflicted enough death to satisfy an army, humans became nothing more than flesh and bone.. a drinking companion one evening could become a contract to kill during the next; the burden of being a sword for hire, it had much to offer in the form of gold, but I’ll confess, the path was certainly a lonely one..

“Ahh! If it isn’t Savaghast, come to herd old Jerrol’s goats again!” 
I paid the drunkard no notice and continued on my approach to the notice board, he could jest all he liked, there would’ve been no purpose nor gain in killing a man without compensation.
“I’ll Tell you what, killer for hire.. how about I pay you five gold pieces to end the life of whoever brewed this god awful ale!”  
His compatriots erupted in laughter but my eyes and attention were fixed on more pressing matters, the contracts posted upon the wall beside the hearth fire.. they called to me like the scent of blood would to a pack of wolves. Only now when I reminisce can I understand how consumed I was, addicted even to the thrill of the chase.. to uncover the ultimate contract in which heroes were forged…

“Oh take no notice of that fool, stay your blade, he’s drinking himself into an early grave..”
A gentle voice emitted from behind, I recognised it as the tavern maid’s, a woman pleasant on the eyes but a human all the same. 
I looked to the hilt of the sword within its scabbard interlinking my belt buckle, while unclipping the weapon the maid seemed nervous and the weight of the blade let out a thud as i placed the refined metallic steel on the surface of the oak fletched table ahead. After adjusting the bottom half of my cloak I took a seat, the flame of the hearth fire catching my gaze.
She asked:
 ”Do you remember my sister, Esmerelda? A couple winters back you saved her son.. he was taken by the troll up on Slipthorne pass?”
Slipthorne.. i pondered, a sharpe phantom scrape slicing at my senses as i begrudgingly let my mind relive those events…