Story Hub: [link]
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Three horns sounded across the city, one after the other. Everyone on the cobblestone streets froze in terror, a monster had been spotted. But what kind, how dangerous? Was it a smaller variety that the guards could contain, or could it be something far worse? Should they hide in their homes, or should they flee the city?
“Tis’ a devil rank monster, a devil rank monster!” A man shouted from atop one of the city’s walls. “It’s comin’ this way. Run for your lives!” The frozen terror turned to frenzied panic as everyone dropped what they were doing and fled in mass. Everyone crossed their fingers, hoping it was not too late to escape, and if it was, that what came next would be swift and painless.
However, a few souls did not flee. They were not filled with terror by the announcement. They did not panic, nor did they fret. No, they walked in the opposite direction of the crowd. A man in armor hidden beneath his cloak, a sword at his hip, a woman in dark robes with ebony black hair and jeweled staff, a man of the cloth with a mace on one hip and a holy book on the other, and a woman in rough clothing with two daggers on her belt and a bow on her back. Four strangers with but a single connection uniting them against what was coming. They were Adventurers.
As the streets grew empty aside from themselves, the sounds of screaming civilians were replaced with a low rumble. Something big approached, and it was letting nothing get in its way. The man drew his blade and donned a mighty shield. The robed woman called upon the elements to prepare a tremendous fireball. The man of the cloth offered a prayer to his god to bless these brave souls. And the roughly clothed woman drew her bow as she crept to the side.
A nearby building crumbled to dust as the monster plowed through it like tissue paper. It was a massive being of gnarled wood, standing taller than most nearby buildings. The monster stomped over the streets, leaving craters wherever it tread, its limps like tree trunks. The creature turned to face the four who stood alone in the streets, its head a mass of gnarled thorns and branches that resembled an ugly, angry face with a ragged beard made of poison ivy. It was a spirit of the forest, a treant or a wood elemental, but unlike most of its kind who were known for benevolence and kindness, this one reeked of malice and hatred.
The four adventurers stood steadfast against this foe, their weapons drawn, their spells at the ready. Their very posture screamed, “Come forward if you dare.” The treant took that as a challenge and with a crashing footfall, lunged forward to attack. The adventurers replied in kind and charged forward to meet their foe. The two groups met in the middle of the streets and then-
Thwack! The four would-be heroes were set hurdling one by one to the side and hit the ground with an unceremonious thud. Even the treant was annoyed at how easy that was. How droll…
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“And who in the forest’s name are you!” The treant turned to face the person narrating. Atop a nearby building, just below eye level for the treant, was a woman in overly fancy clothing. She was garbed in a red and black Gothic Lolita dress that fell to just above her ankles, red Mary Janes contrasting her black stocking, a red rose eyepatch over her right eye, and a dark red parasol with a black trim resting on her right shoulder. Her long red hair matched her demonic red eyes and was topped by a black headdress. She held a little black book in her hand, which she was writing notes in, with a blood-red pen.
“Don’t mind me, I’m just an impartial observer,” the woman brushed him off as she scribbled out the last few lines in her book. “So much for the unlikely heroes. Can’t anyone get anything done around here?”
“You would ignore me?” The treant closed in on the woman and glared at her with one of his bloodshot eyes. “You may wear the dressings of a mortal, but I can see through you demon. Why do you tread on these lands? Do you know not what I am?”
“No clue, but please go on your motive rant. It might make a good replacement for the scene those fools ruined,” the woman glanced at the beaten and battered adventurers. She wasn’t certain if they were dead or not, but they certainly weren’t doing anything else today.
“I am nature’s wrath given form,” the treant roared, “it is my turn to conquer the lands of mortals, as they have tread upon and torn down our forests for too long.”
“Oh, so you’re one of those ‘rise of nature’ and ‘restore the forest at any costs’ nutbars, how cliché,” the woman rolled her eyes.
“Fool, I am not here to bring balance or restore but to conquer,” the treant explained. “It is survival of the fittest, and these mortals have assumed they were at the top of the food chain for far too long. I am here to rectify that delusion.”
“Eh, not really a better motive. Can’t you come up with something a little more original?” The woman asked. “This will make for a pretty underwhelming story.”
“Story, what is with you and stories, demon? This is reality not some fairytale!” The treant grew infuriated. “Who are you? Why are you even here, demon? Answer me now!”
“I’m Mazuki, and there’s no real reason why, I’m just bored,” the demon answered. “When you live as long as I have, you’re constantly looking for something fresh, new, and exciting to stave off the existential dread. I hoped I’d find something entertaining around here, but I was clearly wrong to think that.”
“Entertainment? I’ll show you entertainment, hellspawn!” The treant wound up his tree trunk fist.
“How very droll,” the Mazuki rolled her eyes and got to her feet. The treant realized too late that this demon was much faster than he could have expected, as she suddenly appeared an inch away from his face. “Go be somebody else’s problem,” she held out her right hand in a finger flick gesture and released her finger right in the monster’s face. The treant’s head exploded like it was hit by a train and ‘nature’s wrath’ fell to the ground with an unceremonious thud.
“Weak, weak, why is everything so weak around here,” Mazuki complained. “When I was a hero, there were world-ending threats around every corner, and I lived on the edge of life and death. But now, this is what people see as a threat, a big angry tree? What vapid nonsense.” The demon huffed and stormed off. Today would not be the day she’d find that interesting story she desperately searched for, but maybe tomorrow…who knows? One can only hope.
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Losing that spark of joy in your career is a frustrating experience. At times it will seem like nothing can bring you out of your rut, but perhaps you're just waiting for that strike of inspiration.
Author's Note: This is another of those stories I'll call "pilots" for lack of better term. It's more of an introduction/first chapter to a non-existent ongoing series. An idea to be nurtured and grown, but not right now. In the mean time, I wanted to do something with it, and thus I wrote this. I hope to actually make something of this in the future, but for now I'm focusing on Maid in Fantasy.
Until next time, Read, Comment and Enjoy.
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