The Chronicles of Outsider: Humble Beginnings

by Justin Wayne

  Chapter Eleven: Pleasantries

  Campfire crackling soundly within the barn, Outsider’s spirits began to settle. He watched the flames dance about within the pit he had dug and lost himself within the trance he called sleep. The fire stretched out before him until it was all he could see, then escalated to pure white surrounded by the most serene midnight. This light had no effect on his eyes however.

  They were the stars he wished to live under without fear. Fear of being different and discriminated against. The fear that he would never be allowed to live in peace with friend or family alike.

  Blaine’s words tormented him with the truth they rang with.

  He shifted in his waking dreams and opened his eyes. Thom was sitting across from him, wide awake with his arms wrapped around his knees, chin resting on them. He watched the bounty hunter sit up and cringed.

  “Something on your mind?” Outsider muttered as he took a swig of water from his wineskin. “Or do you always stare at other men as they sleep?”

  The hobbit ignored the comment and shook his head. He had hardly spoken since Blaine’s arrival and what little he did say was always curt and polite.

  The elf eyed him a moment then got up and threw another log into the fire. The heat spread its toasty embrace with a plume of smoke and kept the night’s chill at bay. Winter had quickly returned in the tenday since they had left Delvin and nearly caught them unaware.

  They had to make a stop into a small village the day before and traded a freshly shot deer for several pounds of equipment and a set of fur-lined cloaks. Thom had even managed to swipe a small book of matches.

  Outsider moved closer to the fire as the indefinite cold ran down his back and through his tunic. His cloak was hanging in the corner of the room so the noxious fumes from the black dye wouldn’t reach their noses. Thom huddled deeper into his emerald cape and continued to watch the bounty hunter across from him.

  Only the crisp fire’s popping and the northern wind’s howling filled in the silence.

  “I miss home.” the hobbit sighed.

  “Perhaps you should have thought of that before you started stealing.”

  The thief’s eyebrows furrowed angrily. “I didn’t start by choice! It was necessity. I couldn’t let my family starve. My sister was so sick...I didn’t even think about it. I just grabbed the loaf and ran.”

  The pervading silence ensued again.

  “I got her plenty of food each day by pickpocketing, stealing from the vendors, or even burglarizing. But it wasn’t enough. She needed medicine. And on my way to get some, I was caught trying to pick the lock. They threw me in jail for a year. By the time I got out, she had passed. And my mother as well.”

  A hard line appeared in his soft, round features. “I never forgave them. I took whatever I needed and when I got good at that, whatever I wanted. She couldn’t get what was necessary for basic survival, so I would live enough for the both of us. But word travels quickly, and hobbits aren’t so common in these parts. Life got hard again..” he trailed off.

  Outsider nodded in silence, agreeing with the hobbit and for the first time in the month since he had caught him, saw Thom as a person.

  The large door to the barn opened ajar with a loud and droning creak of the frosted hinges. On reflex, Outsider poured his waterskin over the fire, and leapt away into the darkness. Thom just curled up in his cape and lay still.

  A small figure entered slowly, axe drawn, and looked about the room. Outsider’s dark vision caught him and recognized the bearded face.

  I don’t believe it.

  “Merlon, you’ve found us at last!” He stepped from the shadows and rekindled the fire for a moment and breathed life into it. New flames shot up from the embers and illuminated the little room. “Please, sit with us for a spell and warm the chill from your bones.”

  Merlon’s eyes narrowed and his axe was on the move. Outsider barely had time to duck his head to the side as the handle caught him. He fell from his seat on a log and lay there stunned, not expecting the timid dwarf to attack him so suddenly. Even Thom who had watched the whole thing couldn’t understand it.

  The last time he had seen the dwarf, he was helping Outsider fight off the wolves and save his life.

  “Ye’ lying scum! I’ll gut ye’ for stealing me money and makin’ off without me!” he threatened and pulled the large axion from its sling on his back. He whirled it around with a whir and grinned beneath his bushy beard. “Let’s see ye’ make a fool o me now, elf!”

  He throttled forward on his powerful, stubby legs and brought the axion down with his full might. It buried into the log Outsider kicked at him and split it clean in half. “Come on ye’ twiggy, sneak! Take a swing at me and try yer chances.”

  Outsider’s knives jumped to his hands and deflected several heavy handed blows, each time sending a jar up his arms that steadily numbed his fingers. He retaliated with a kick that caught the dwarf in the chest but succeeded in moving him less than a single step back.

  “I thought we were friends, Merlon! You aided me against the wolves and to find my sick friend!” He held his hands up unthreateningly. “Don’t you remember?”

  “Oh I remember alright. Ye’ aint got a sick friend. He be your prisoner he is! And ye’ aint named Aegis either, are ye’, Outsider?” His face sneered in victory. “So tell me then, bounty hunter, who are ye’? Or I’ll bash and cut ye’ into pieces too small for the animals to eat!”

  The axion glinted in the firelight. Outsider had seen the large weapons before but had never fought against one. They were metal staffs with an axe head on each end facing opposite directions; similar to a Z. They were an issue for him as battling the heavy blades called for small retaliatory strikes between the slow swings, but the long handle that held the heavy heads created distance that was hard to cover between the tremendously powerful attacks.

  “And they say chivalry is dead.” Outsider laughed halfheartedly and sheathed his knives. “My name is Outsider, and I am a bounty hunter. This is Thom,” He motioned to the halfling who was still hiding within the warm confines of his cape. “A thief with quite the price on his head in Cain Sander. Your money is here,” He tossed Merlon the pouch. “And I did not cause any of the disappearances in your town.”

  The dwarf slipped the pouch onto his belt and nodded curtly. “That’s fine an’ all. But this aint good enough.”

  “You have exactly what you had before!”

  “Nonsense! Not a single soul remains; me whole town is gone! And all the ale too.”

  “What and that is a fault of mine?”

  “Nay, but ye will be helpin’ me.”

  The confident grin on Merlon’s face spoke of danger to the bounty hunter. Something he knew was apparently of dire enough importance to obligate his servitude.

  “You know what’s coming next.” Outsider stated flatly.

  The dwarf chuckled and tapped the side of his wide nose with a gloved finger. “Do we have an accord then?”

  Outsider sighed and shook his hand. “Agreed. I suppose I have no choice.” He turned away from the dwarf who grabbed himself a seat around the fire. “I fear I will never reach Cain Sander or feel the weight of gold in my pocket.”

  Merlon laughed and slapped his belly, axion at his side, then motioned for him to sit. “Just relax for tonight. Ye’ be needin’ it. A force be comin’ tomorrow it is.”

  Outsider sat down just as Thom sat up. His voice wavered with each syllable. “What kind of force, eh?”

  The dwarf’s face turned somber and the firelight threw deep shadows across the lines and wrinkles on his face. His eyes seemed sullen and sunken in. “Saw a whole pack of orcs makin’ their way past Journ not three days past I did. At least thirty. And on me way through Delvin, word was spreadin’ like wildfire of a troop o Warriors searchin’ for ye’. And one of ‘em is the chief.”

  He looked about the little camp, leaning left and right on his log as the others mulled over what he said in silent thought
. “Ye’ got anythin’ to eat? I been wanderin’ ‘round for two days tryin’ to find and tell ye’. It seems the further from Journ I got, the clearer me mind became till I could remember everythin’ that happened. Including you and your aura.” He nodded at the elf.

  Outsider was unaccustomed to being thought of in any sort of positive way and merely turned his head away embarrassed. “I can honestly say it didn’t feel right taking your money. I’m no thief.”

  “Well shucks, I’ll take it.” Thom piped in. Merlon laughed and slapped the hobbit on the back, sending him to the ground. But the dwarf was too busy guffawing to notice.

  “I like this ‘un.” he noted. Thom sat back up and wiped the hay from his cape. Merlon grinned as a small pot of stew was prepared. “Ah, nothin’ like a hot meal on a cold night.”

  Outsider shot him a sideways glance as he stripped the beef and potatoes. “You are enjoying this entirely too much, Merlon. You sure your mind’s recovered?”

  The dwarf nodded slowly. “Aye, that town be cursed with somethin’ evil. I know yer kind is learned on that type o thing so I knew I had to ask ye’ for help. Me mind is just out of ideas…ye’ think it could be demons? Or maybe ghosts like everyone says?”

  “I don’t remember being asked.” Outsider said stoically as he slid the vegetables into the water with the meat. Slowly the succulent aroma of stew wafted to each of their noses, bubbling and simmering over the fire. “And I’m not sure. Too many options to try and guess.”

  “Well least this way is fair.” Merlon reasoned as he stared at the pot.

  Outsider merely grunted in reply, all too aware of the tactic. He himself had used it numerous times throughout the years to blackmail someone into some sort of assistance, whether it be an extra hand or an extra handful of gold.

  “Listen, I’ll help ye’ deal with the vermin and get this ‘un to Cain Sander if ye’ keep yer word to help me find me people.”

  Outsider nodded, not one to miss when a deal was leaning one way or the other. The mystery force could be something terrible, and by what he had sensed back in Journ, it very well might be. But facing any large number of orcs alone was suicide.

  “Well let’s get everything sorted out while this cooks. When do you expect they’ll arrive?”

  Merlon’s forehead creased with frown lines as he stroked his beard, contemplating the question and taking the numbers into account with the speed and distance. “I’d say no more ‘an three days. They be cuttin’ past the towns to stay out of sight and goin’ straight through wood and hill alike. And them orcs can run when they need to. They know yer headin’ west, so they aim to get there first and I’d bet me axe they’ll try an’ cut ye’ off at the mountain pass. Any other way ‘round will take months.”

  Outsider found another log to sit on as his had been cleaved in half, and sat near the fire. “Is there no way of outrunning them? With a force that size they have to be slower than the three of us.”

  Already the dwarf was shaking his head. “They’ll just keep followin’ ye’. All the way across the mountains. Orcs don’t forget when they’ve been wronged, and ye’ must’ve done somethin’ pretty bad to get ‘em all riled up like this.”

  Thom grimaced and wanted to scream. Already he could feel his stomach gnawing at him with anxiety. He was just a small town thief, meant to be around people with lives that don’t involve war and murder.

  “How did I get myself caught up in this mess?” he asked distressed and ran his fingers through his shaggy hair.

  The elf bounty hunter caught his eye. “You started this mess you fool!” he exclaimed. “We wouldn’t have been there for the orcs to find if I hadn’t had to come apprehend you for stealing. And the Warriors just want their blade back.”

  “What blade that be?” the dwarf asked, intrigued. His eyes widened as his hands closed around the beautiful dagger. He drew it slowly; eyes closed, and listened to the steel ring as it slid free. “A masterfully made weapon. mythril blade, with a flawless sapphire aged within an air-tight mold for that clouded effect.” He felt around it with his fingers, even sliding off his thick gloves. “Ebony handle, carved from an elder tree it is. And the runes be of an ancient tongue once sung in all the halls. It says:

  “’May all dark elf who see this blade,

  Shy away from the light,

  So the final debt they are paid,

  Be death this very night.’”

  He handed it back to Outsider within its sheath. “That blade be worth a fortune it is. I can’t deny I myself would question returnin’ it. ‘Specially to some Warrior. They throw their rages and fits and just bang up their weapons. No regard for them! They can fight sure, but that blade be needin’ hands with a more…delicate touch.” he laughed. “Whatever ye’ choose, guard it well, elf. It be coveted by those who hate yer kind, and hated by those who covet yer kind.

  “Either way, ye’ won’t be makin’ any friends if someone recognizes it.”

  Outsider nodded his understanding and returned it to its hiding place beneath his underarm. Carefully concealed within his cloak, his hands lifted the pot’s lid, which was actually a shoulder plate stomped flat, and they all relaxed as the sweet fragrance of beef stew filled their nostrils.

  They ate in a ravenous manner, depleting the entire pot over conversation, ensuring that in the next few days when battle came they would be able to trust the man beside him.

  “Who are you?” Thom asked suddenly, unable to keep his mouth shut any longer. The questions had been burning within his mind for days. He had buried them as best he could but every morning he found them in a grave that grew more and more shallow. Merlon, too, watched Outsider with interest.

  “Outsider, bounty hunter, at your service.”

  “Fine. Where are you from? What’s your story?”

  “I don’t tell such information to contracts.” he hissed. “Especially not those who try to kill me.”

  Thom shook his little head. “I didn’t want to! Something just took over me like the cold drowns a fire! I can’t explain it…but I am sorry. This life of stealing is never something I wanted.”

  The elf went silent then. His face was hidden beneath his hood as always, even revealing himself to those who knew of his race was so uncomfortable it bordered on unbearable. But the light in the hobbits eyes was an honest one. And he could not deny the thirst for knowledge as he had yet to quench it himself.

  Not fully understanding why, perhaps it was the fact he hadn’t tried to run or kill him after learning his race, he had found a new light of trust within Thom’s young face and decided to test it. Merlon nodded politely to reinforce Outsider’s new judgement.

  He took a deep breath. “I’m from a small farming town I do not know the name of. All I can tell you of it is the grass there grew golden, and the sun was always shining. Yet the smell of honey in the air is what you would remember most.” Outsider’s vision was long gone now, his mind a world away.

  Thom leaned forward slightly to hear him as his voice grew quiet.

  “However, I grew up in Duskenbaijan, a dark elf city in an alternate dimension called the Shadowverse; many, many miles away from here. I was taken from my home just after my second birthday. They killed my mother, a forest elf…I know not her name…and took me back to my ‘rightful home’.” His voice mocked the supreme air that was soaked into the memory. “My father, a dark elf, who was forced to fight just as I was, refused to strike another living being and his mercy was quickly taken advantage of.

  “Not long after, the cruel dark elf that killed him; a gladiator by the name of Dren was anointed my combat instructor. He was once a great fighter before he let the drink consume his life. He trained me in the ways of battle from the age of two to fifteen, forcing me into gladiator matches against beast and dark elf alike. And for all of those miserable years he let me know it was he who told the Baron of my father’s betrayal in which he set free the forest elf slave who became his wife and my mother, and their flight to t
he surface. That it was he responsible for my mother’s torture and execution.”

  Thom couldn’t look Outsider in the eye as he revealed such despair, though his face hidden in the shadows as it was still betrayed no emotion. A statue.

  “The night after I lost someone, I stole into his quarters as he drank. And I challenged his prowess; telling him I was done obeying him. He laughed and said I didn’t have what it took to kill him. So I slit the drunk’s throat and threw him from his window without a second thought.

  “It took me nearly a year to find my way out. But I had spent my entire life at that point planning for my escape, and had narrowly managed to steal a few maps detailing different regions below the surface. As frightening as it was there in the dark wilderness, it was nothing compared to the city. Every day was a new sacrifice here or a string of political murders there…the crazed zealots.”

  He went quiet then, running over his complicated past to smooth sharp edges that could still hurt.

  Thom was entranced. His mind filled with wondrous visions of blackened towns and cities bustling with the dark skinned people. “What happened when you got out?” he blurted out much louder than he meant to. His voice echoed in the near empty barn.

  “I left.”

  “And?” The hobbit demanded exasperatedly.

  Outsider frowned slightly, his memories of that time a blur. Even his most joyful day, the day he saw the moon again and breathed in fresh air, was all but lost to him.

  “Well. I spent the first few months just getting used to the light again; travelling from town to town in the hopes of finding my home. But I never did. Instead I was met with hate and racism as expected. I separated myself from society. Always watching from just outside, I find my name is quite suitable.

  “I did this for a few months until I chanced upon a fellow dark elf. We agreed not to share names, as our lives were dangerous enough as it was, and instead told only of our past and deeds. He had escaped from his dark city a lifetime earlier, and reveled in the light of good. He taught me that I wasn’t evil just because our race was; that I could do whatever I wanted and would find those willing to help. He showed me the compassion and empathy that I had lost long ago. And he made me a warrior to be reckoned with.” A hard light shone in his deep gray eyes.

  “Did you ever learn his name?” Thom pondered.

  “No, he was a very private individual. And I do not blame him in the slightest. But he taught me more than I would ever need. He made me something more than a monster. I had lived in the wilderness since my escape, and taken on such a life; one he knew plenty of as well. He passed on more than just techniques to kill.”

  “Where is he now?”

  Outsider’s eyes blinked several times as his mind returned to the present. He coughed and took another drink. “I know not. We adventured together for two years or so, and then we parted ways. I haven’t heard nor seen from him since. But his title of Mentor, as I called him, will always remain. That and the fire that burned in his eyes like the wrath of the Nine Hells in battle or when someone was in need.”

  Embarrassed and feeling exposed, Outsider cleared his throat and hurriedly changed the subject.

  “How did you learn my name and job anyway?” Outsider asked as he laid his empty bowl aside and rested against his log.

  Merlon was on his third bowl and showed no sign of stopping. He slurped up another spoonful then tossed it aside and drank the rest straight. “Heard some cloaked fella’ talkin’ ‘bout ye’.” He answered between mouthfuls. “Even said what yer heritage is.”

  The gray eyes closed. Once again, something from his past had returned to fill him with regret and shame. “Blaine; another dark elf. He and I were of the same clan and grew up together.”

  “An ol’ friend?”

  “Not at all. More of rivals.” He slipped back his cowl and pointed to the scar that lined his face. “He gave me this with the tip of a sword in a match between him and his brother, two on one.”

  The dwarf’s frown returned. “Unfair odds that be.”

  Outsider smiled grimly. “For them. I slew his brother and took Blaine’s right hand.” His hand clenched and unclenched reflexively as he remembered the ringing strikes of steel on steel. The showers of sparks that illuminated the dark arena behind the manor. “He’s had it healed now of course, but he always remembered that defeat and the hate that comes with it.”

  Thom snored peacefully nearby and shifted in his sleep. He rolled over and pulled his cape tighter about him. His little body rose and lowered as his slow breathing confirmed his deep slumber.

  “The little one sleeps as if an innocent. Nothing to trouble his mind an’ keep ‘em awake.” Merlon observed with envy. He hadn’t slept in days, finding his dreams to be a gateway to the growing insanity that had corrupted him for nearly two months. “I don’t think he’s all bad, bounty hunter. He seems lost.”

  Outsider nodded. “I agree. He’s only fifteen. Hardly a boy by virtually any race’s standard.”

  “Aye, though I doubt yer over fifteen yerself; yer aura’s too bright. They usually dim as age creeps in. But for Thom, I think it best to let time test ‘em and his mettle I think.”

  “I don’t know my birthday; the general estimate would put me around twenty, but living in the Shadowverse, I’ve fought and trained nearly my entire life. It ages you.” He smirked. “You ought to know that by now old dwarf.”

  The dwarf yawned resignedly and laid himself out on a bedding of straw, waving away the remark then wrapping his arms together. “Well either way, this winter is goin’ to be a tough ‘un. I hope yer prepared.” And with that he fell into a dreamless sleep as soon as his eyes closed, confident in his company’s honor.

  Just as he had predicted, the storm outside grew fierce, and before long they were all asleep around the fire which had been given plenty of wood to keep it going the night through. Even Outsider took this time for an extended trance to sharpen his mind and brave the coming forces. His eyes slowly opened as he became aware of the storm outside pounding against the barn.

  “If the orcs and Warriors don’t kill us, the weather will.”

  And he listened from inside his thoughts to the howling wind of the north; mourning the battle to come.