Nachtfuchstiefen I - Day One

Dear reader,

If you've come into possession of this account, I'm either dead (again) or you've managed to steal these pages from me. Maybe you killed me for good. Fuck you, in that guess. Maybe I had it coming. Maybe I never deserved this second chance. You can decide for yourself. You'll see, that nothing is ever so easy.

The following events transpired close to the fifth moon, 320 years after the Veiling.

I met graveyard keeper Sixt a month ago, in my home world, the Saint's Cradle just outside the city gates of the capital Zenith. He's a weird guy. I don't know much about him. He saved my life so I felt like I owed him my company, at least for a little while. I didn't know the extend of my debt then and was happier for it. Since we started our adventure together, his presence never stopped to unnerve me.

Sometimes I catch him whispering to himself. I'm not convinced that he isn't possessed, or some ancient being that's taken to haunting me and now finds delight in my torment. He possesses a sizeable fortune of gold that he claims he inherited from his family, the graveyard keepers of Jasper, a sizeable town just south of the capital. I don't know what happened to make him leave or who tends to the dead in his absence nor did I know that dealing with the dead could be so lucrative a business. Or maybe he's lying to make a fool of me. His face is as unreadable as the moon. 

One night, after he fell asleep, I fingered the coin purse from his belt and made off without him. I got as far as the next town over when I realized that the pouch was filled with rocks and he sat smiling at me from across the tavern. I lied and said I'd been following a figure who'd been stalking our camp. I don't think he bought it. I didn't try again. 

Many of my questions about him go unanswered and when he does deign to give them it's in riddles. He frustrates me. I'm sure it's on purpose. And yet he's all that I've got now. I can't go back. The only thing awaiting me in back home is death. Maybe I could live pretending to be someone else a while, move to the far corners of the Second Territories where there's nothing but rocks and rain. No one could pay me enough to try my luck in the First.

A ship carried us from Zenith's bay across the Opaline Sea. The days became a blur of the oppressive brightness of the sun, and a dizzying sickness that made me lose all food and orientation and left me to hug a bucket for near its entire duration until we reached a place called Westwind on the Silvercoast. Places I'd never seen on any map. I truly wondered were we were but everything paled in my excitement to feel steady ground beneath my feet once more.

We stayed a few days at the harbour town, heard rumors of an ancient dungeon filled with hidden treasure. Doors that had remained closed for centuries had suddenly opened and shadows of foxes had been spotted around nearby villages. It sounded like opportunity to me. For riches. To start over. Sixt was less excited and urged me to caution. "We don't know what's in there. It could be a trap."

"And we'll never find out if we don't go. What do we have to lose? Come on, we crossed an entire ocean we might as well check it out. Just have a peak, we don't have to go in."

Whether it was the quality of my arguments, my persistent or something else that convinced Sixt to agree, I never knew but we made our way and arrived at the site some late afternoon.

We weren't the only ones to have that idea, as you can imagine. A whole village of tents had sprung up around the dungeon site. It was bustling with adventurers and those looking for business opportunity to squeeze the eager for coin. There was a whole make-shift tavern hustling kegs of ale and mead inside. By the time we we set up, the sun had set trailing streaks of orange across the horizon.

Contrary to rumor, the doors of the dungeon were firmly closed. With little else to do, folks flocked to the newly set up tavern. As did we.

I had my hood pulled deep into my face, worried that someone may recognize it. We slid into a bench on the far side of the tavern, keeping ourselves for now. Watch what sort of folk arrives, get a read on potential allies or enemies...

At another table there was a northern looking pair. The woman told about how they tried to pry open the dungeon doors with no success. They didn't budge. Not even to their mighty axes. Had the rumors been wrong?

As I was at the bar ordering drinks for me and my companion, a woman in a bright, white cloak stepped inside the tent capturing every eye as she floated down the isle. Towards me. She looked like a princess, a person of importance, no doubt. My heart beat quickened. A compliment was already forming on my dry lips but I swallowed it when I saw the guard trailing behind her and quickly hid my face. The barkeep came with our drinks no moment too soon and I slunk away with our drinks.

Not much else happened that night. Back at our table, I was visited by a worm occupying the top of my hood. Sixt called it an "inch worm". Yeah, I bet you want to hear all about that pathetic little thing. I was going to crush it with my finger to watch it struggle for its life but Sixt stopped my hand before I could.

Whatever came after is a fuzzy collection of the stars above, a pig maid's tales and the and sugary treats that Sixt calls marshed mallows. Ever since we left Zenith, I catch myself looking over my shoulder expecting shadows to grab and drag me back to the capital. Even in a place beyond all common maps. Trusting the wrong people would be a dangerous affair.