In some ways this story has already been told and in other ways you may have told it yourself. I am here to tell you a story now, about people you don’t know, in a place you hopefully have never visited. These people and places will be strange. Possibly even weird. You may even call them wrong. But I promise through the peaks and trenches of this tale, it will be one hell of a ride.
We focus first upon the Copper Crawls of Market Haven – the outer rim of the city’s circular border. The sun sits high in the day, bringing little comfort to those drinking in its warmth. Between hovels and market stalls of tarnished goods available for the lowest prices, we find an insulting necessity for the underperforming traders of the impoverished district: a white brick building, as sterile on the outside as it is within – a care centre for the ill and injured. Afterall, it was deemed that every citizen of Kathernus has themselves the right to pay for medical attention.
A cold air blows within the building as we happen upon our first victim of adventure.
Cairngorm was of pale skin and uncanny features, with vibrant eyes that shone through shoulder length, unkempt locks. They were small in frame, with hand-knit, travel worn apparel and clothing suspiciously resembling priestly attire. Nondescript enough that if it were to go missing, the search would be short.
I recall them arising not with a start but with a tentative glance around at the walls of a ward they did not remember. As they focused their eyes on the uneven layers of paint, a chill of unease settled in their chest as for a moment the room seemed to breathe with them. It was at that moment Cairngorm felt a more active chill snaking up their arm. Pulling back a damp corner of the sheet covering them, several discoveries were made at once. Cairngorm found themselves in their own clothes; a sigh of relief crawled from between their lips which resembled that of cracked bathhouse tiles. Next, their left arm now possessed a series of small unrecognised incisions, neatly organised in a row laddering their arm. Additionally, a small unrecognised bangle rested firmly on their wrist. Finally, the cold sensation winding up their arm originated from a small tendril-like stream of water flowing from an ornate pot found just below the bed they found themselves in. Quickly, Cairngorm brushed away at their arm, attempting to mop up the concentrated spillage with what dry parts of their bedding remained. A short rumble emerged from the pot as the tendril withdrew from their arm, and Cairngorm was subjected to the unpleasant farewell from their bedside apparatus. Several fluidous limbs stretched out from the container and carried itself out of the open doorway – gurgling as it went.
At that same moment, an individual more recognisable as staff all but stumbled his way into the room, which I’ll admit, almost made me chuckle. Pristine white robes wrapped themselves around the stranger as he ducked his head through the entry way, leading first with his antler-like horns. He was clean shaven, on the shorter side, and had immaculate red skin, which caused the black pools of his eyes to pop like fresh ink on a fresher canvas.
‘Wonderful! You’re awake!’ The stranger’s voice was velvety and clashed against his unbalanced demeanour. ‘And not a moment too soon. Are you feeling well? Or better, at least?’
Cairngorm’s voice was much harsher than expected as they choaked on a few carefully chosen words. ‘Where am I?’
‘Yes, of course. An explanation is in order. Firstly, my name is Bright. I’ve been in charge of your recovery after you were found unconscious just outside the Copper Ward’s perimeter. Luckily the people that found you were feeling particularly generous and brought you straight here.’ By now, Bright had crossed the short threshold of the room and was now positioned at the end of Cairngorm’s bed. ‘Thankfully since you appear to be in better health, we’ll be able to proceed to the matter of settling your care’s expenses. Since we found no form of legal tender in your possessions, I’ll have to ask you to follow me, please.’
Cairngorm was stunned at the impressively faux-empathetic performance before them, and with a weak push to their feet I heard a single thought rang out in their head:
Shit.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
I’m told that dreams can often be a place of comfort. An enigmatic perception into another reality. Images and scenarios brought about from a life being lived and a mind wishing for more. For Ara, dreams were simply a punishment of the past. Ara did not dream, for she did not sleep. Instead, her unconscious mind wandered involuntarily to crimson stained clothing, a village on fire, and a young girl who did not yet know how much she had lost.
Ara did wake with a start. With little time wasted, she assessed the environment: she was in a room with one entrance. She was clothed but her possessions were nowhere to be found. A ring of silver that she did not recognise wrapped itself around her wrist. As she stood, a pain radiated from her leg. Glancing down she found a wrap of cloth as pale as her skin, fastened around her leg. As she pressed weight onto her injured leg, red smears began peeking through the bandaging. The sudden movement and pain sent a cold rush surging into her head and she barely balanced herself on the frame of a bed that was not hers.
As her head calmed, and her vision regulated, she felt a heavy hand on her shoulder. She looked up to see an impressively tall figure looming with a stony face. The woman’s features were as though they were carved from rock. Her face was decorated with thick, black tattoos that arrowed below her eyes, winding down and around her ears until they converged atop her scalp, finally stopping just above her brow line. In a word, scary. Even Ara, for a moment was taken aback by the height of the figure before her. Taking a moment to assess, Ara noticed the distinct staining of dried blood, patterned across the figure’s white apparel.
‘It is good you are on your feet. However, I would take heed with your leg. It has not fully healed.’ She spoke with a surgical clarity that ground like gravel in her throat.
Ara steeled herself before she spoke. It was best to remain calm for the time being. Even if she wanted to make for the exit, there were too many unanswered questions: where were her belongings? How long had she been here? Most importantly, where was the exit?
‘You have questions.’ The woman stated plainly. ‘You are in a care facility in the Copper Ward of Market Haven. You were found injured by an animal snare by one of the locals. She cared for you as she could and brought you here. Now that your injury appears manageable, we will be releasing you from our care subject to the settlement of your treatment. As we were unable to find sufficient funds on your person, we are to report to the director’s office.’
Despite the succinct nature of the delivery, Ara’s head was nevertheless reeling from the sudden onslaught of information. Regardless she remained stoic, not allowing the pain in her leg to show on her face any more than it had in her posture. Before she was able to concoct some form of response, the nameless staff member had already led her into the connecting hallway and started down the left passage. From all the possible questions or rebuttals swirling around Ara’s mind in that moment, only a single clear thought of hers echoed:
Shit.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
The plan was supposedly simple. Mac’s steps were light and purposeful down the stairway before her, almost as quiet as my own. Each movement was considered and executed with practiced precision. While the directions and the layout of the building given to her were crude, she could make up for her employer’s shortcomings with efficiency. A few more steps would get her to the lower levels of the care facility, and from there it was just about retracing her steps – except with a body in tow. Something small enough to carry and light enough to do so quickly. Should that fail, that old trick of walking-like-you-own-it would be an excellent Plan B. Her eyes naturally adjusted to the darkness of the basement entry. The room was cold with matching stonework flooring and walls that brought about a claustrophobic pulse in her chest. She readjusted the hood of her cloak to better cover her face as her vision tunnelled through the cloth. Each wall possessed an unremarkable simplicity with the only notable features being two unlit torches slotted firmly into identical sconces on opposite sides of the room. Embedded into the heavy stone bricks, sat a large metallic door in the wall opposite the staircase Mac had finished descending.
She advanced carefully, not allowing the promising progress she had already made to cloud her judgment. Important doors typically had locks. She simply hoped this one didn’t. Nearing the entrance, it became more and more apparent that the door itself hummed with an unnatural glowing hue – one that Mac knew all too well.
‘Fuckin’ wizards, man.’ The words were spat like a slur into the room as she let out a defeated sigh. She could work around this. She just needed to think for a moment. The glowing sigil pulsed rhythmically. She knew it well, and hated it more so.
Grafted into the door was an icon to control the temperature of room beyond. Important for any form of cold storage, and expensive. Not as much as the one that layered it – an alarm with the express purpose of alerting something that she did not wish to meet.
A few plans raced through her mind. On the one hand, enchantments like this were difficult to dispel. Messing it up would alert not only the intended target but it would most likely bring the rest of the facility staff running too. Although, the time frame to make it out of the building was slim enough as it was – never mind retracing the same path she entered through while carrying a body.
In an instant, the torches within the room roared to life, startling Mac upright from their crouched position. On instinct, her hand grasped firmly around the hilt of a blade hidden away beneath her cloak – though she did not yet brandish the weapon.
Now stood tentatively at the base of the stairs, a portly man stood, his eyebrows furrowed and his lips curled into a confused grimace.
He spoke with an authority unbefitting someone of such an anxious stature, ‘Who are you? What are you doing down here? Who let you down here?’
Mac weighed her options eventually loosening her grip as she cleared her voice and spoke, ‘Sorry, mate. I’m sure you were told I would be arriving.’ A light knock echoed from the door behind her as she gently tapped her fist against it. ‘Cold storage is looking good! No one gettin’ in there any time soon.’ In a swift motion, Mac loosened the hood from around her head, pulling it back into place around her shoulders, revealing a deep green hue of skin, heavy-set bags hanging under squinted eyes. As she spoke, her lips parted to reveal two evenly sized tusks jutting slightly from her lower jaw. She held herself with the confidence typical of an orc, and spoke with the slyness of any human I had met.
The man’s face twisted from confusion to an apprehensive relief as he scrunched his nose with a sharp breath in. ‘Yes, of course! My most sincere apologies. I’m sure someone on the staff intended to inform me of your arrival. No bother at all though, truly no bother!’ He ended each sentence with a nervous manufactured chuckle. ‘We’re glad to accommodate any needs that arise during your inspection. Oh, yes! I am Head Physician Marlon, director of The Copper Ward’s medical care facility. If you would please follow me we can continue right away.’ The anxiety had evolved to an uncomfortable pride, like that of a toddler showing off their latest scrawling.
But that was beside the point, Mac had hit some nail she hadn’t known about directly on the head. Into what exactly, she wasn’t perfectly sure. However, she had stalled for the moment and squirmed out of worse situations than this. Strangely enough however, a familiar thought crossed her mind as she followed onward and upward:
Shit.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
While the bed wasn’t the worst Satori had slept in, the service was abysmal. I’d watched her wander through empty halls for too long now, and the humour in the mystery had worn off. It wasn’t the first time she had woken up in a strange place with a skull-splitting headache, but typically there was more food, drink, and people around. Trying to piece together the events of the previous night proved futile. All that mattered now was finding somewhere or someone a little more comfortable to lay on.
With her head sat firmly in thunderous clouds above, Satori practically fell into the structure before them. A large statue of blue stone and brick with gold patterned inlay had found its way into one of the winding hallways of the building she was, for the time, trapped in. The object balanced on two supports with two matching protrusions joined on opposing sides of the spherical centre. The minor monument filled the width of the passage almost completely, save for a small gap between it and the walls.
‘Weird place for an art installation but alright.’ She squeezed into the space between the white walls of the corridor and the stone thing before her. A low rumble sounded from somewhere around Satori. The voice echoed lightly and growled like a grindstone.
‘PAYMENT.’
Satori glanced around and saw no people, still. Content to continue pushing past the statue, she took another step forward and pushed her body through the small gap. Again, the sound rumbled.
‘PAYMENT.’
At that moment, the intimidating blockade she had just passed shifted heavily to rotate itself, now facing Satori.
‘Ah.’ Was all she could muster in response.
One of the statue’s limbs shifted to indicate in the opposite direction of Satori’s path, pointing down past the way she had just ventured.
‘Right, yes. “PAYMENT”’. No, I got it. Don’t worry about that, mate. Just finished settling everything with the boss. Now if you could swing one of those pillars in the direction of the exit, that would be a big help.’
The figure did not shift.
‘You’d be surprised. There isn’t really much to settle in this situation. Just a bump on the head, a minor concussion, you get it. Nothing a bit of sleep couldn’t fix up. Oh um, by the by, thanks for the little party favour!’ She tapped her hand gently against her wrist and the clashing, claspless bracelet she awoke with.
The figure did not shift.
Growing increasingly tense, Satori pushed back and forth against her heels and toes, rocking gently in a moment of awkwardness, before quickly continuing on her course while blurting out, ‘So the exits this way or-’
With an unexpected speed and malleability, the brick construct wrapped a limb carefully yet firmly around the waist of Satori, hoisting her up close to the ceiling of the corridor. The creature then dropped its centre to the ground before pushing off with an unoccupied limb.
‘PAYMENT.’
Shocked at the sudden turn of events, Satori gasped, ‘So I don’t suppose “PAYMENT” is near the exit?’
The figure did not respond. Instead continuing to roll carefully with Satori, forcibly in tow. At least this time, I got to hear one of them say it out loud.
‘Shit.’
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
The doors to Marlon’s office pushed open into an ornate room, ill-fitting the rest of the building, and frankly a bit gauche for my taste. The centre of the space sported a hideously wooden desk with sickeningly immaculate polishing and neatly organised stacks of parchment. Tacky blue curtains were drawn and tied back with soft, off-white rope as what little sun there was shone through the windows in a poor attempt at illumination – which was poorly compensated for with thick wax candles positioned on equally ornate burners. The small flames illuminated the faces of the recently awoken patients and their assigned staff who had now all gathered before Marlon. Before them all sat the portly man, his head shaved, with a thick beard that wrapped around his lips and stretched across his face to his ears.
The man cleared his throat before he spoke, ‘Good afternoon, everyone. My name is Director Marlon. At my side is Inspector-’, he paused for a moment. An unexpected rose hue burned in his cheeks and he looked up meagrely, ‘I’m terribly sorry, I didn’t ask your name, Inspector…’
‘Mac – Ah, Macaron. Inspector Macaron.’ A scathing thought crossed through her mind.
Real names, Mac? You’re almost too good at this.
‘Yes, to my side here, is Inspector Macaron. Please pay no heed to her for the time being. You may all be familiar with members of my staff, Bright, Zoma and G.U.R.T.’ Marlon gestured to the horned individual, the goliath woman and the stone construct respectively. ‘Now you are all here for varying reasons though with the same problem so it would make sense to familiarise yourselves with one another.’
Missing no opportunity, Satori’s voice sounded down from her restrained position, ‘Good to meet you all, I’m-’
‘Ah, no. Sorry I meant in your own time.’ Marlon scoffed, rolling their eyes in the direction of Mac with a mocking semblance of a grin burrowed beneath his beard. He cleared his throat as he continued, ‘You are all here as we have found the funds and possessions on your persons to be insufficient for the care we deemed necessary during your stay in our facility. Therefore, as you are unable to complete the transaction via financial means, policy demands compensation via a “State Sanctioned Bounty”.’ A silence filled the room as Marlon paused his monotone rehearsal. ‘Any questions will now be answered by me.’
The silence hung in the air for a beat longer than anyone hoped it would until finally, the now much less harsh, voice of Caingorm rose up, ‘So do we get to pick the job?’
Satori took this as an invitation for discussion, ‘Yeah is it like a lottery system or do we vote together? Is my vote worth as much as hers, and if not then why not?’
Ara immediately shot a glare in the direction of the new speakers, disgusted with the compliance on show.
Marlon spoke once more, ‘We currently have two available jobs: ‘Extermination’ and ‘Retrieval’.’
A puzzled look crossed Caingorm’s face, ‘And that’s it? Do we get any details other than verbs?’
‘Once you select a job, yes, further details will be provided. Clarity after selection helps in ensuring a fair selection process and increases the likelihood of more… potentially fatal work being complete.’
Ara took a heavy step forward, arms crossing in an impressive display before she growled, ‘What’s to stop us from looking at both?’
Marlon’s cocky expression swiftly transitioned as though he were flipping through a mental catalogue of guidelines.
‘Well- You’re um- You aren’t strictly allowed to do that as it is against state policy and-’
Though she didn’t show it, Ara took the time to relish in unfurling the two rolls of parchment before her. An unspoken fuck you beamed from her eyes as she and, from over her shoulder, Cairngorm soaked in the information.
Satori once again decided it was her turn to speak up, ‘and suppose we make our way out the front door and back from whence we came, bullshit debt unpaid and all, what then?’
Marlon ran his index finger down the length of each knuckle of the opposing middle finger. A blood-coloured glow emanated from his hand as the bracelets worn by the three patients before him simultaneously tightened, further and further, strangling the wrists of each wearer.
‘Well then I suppose we’ll simply have to negotiate another manner of repayment. Say, three hands should fetch a high enough price from the right scum, I’m sure.’
Mac leaned in close whispering a half-serious offer to Marlon, ‘I could get you some decent prices if you’re serious.’
Marlon shot a confused glance, regaining composure a moment later and releasing the enchantment on the shoddy jewellery.
‘Unless there are any further questions, I shall leave you in the capable hands of Inspector Macaron.’
‘I’m sorry?’
Reaching a level of frustration now, Marlon swivelled in his gaudy leather chair, ‘Inspector, I am correct in thinking you were here to assess the facility and the State Sponsored Bounty program? Or is there some other reason you find yourself in my facility?’
Really, Mac should have been paying more attention. Maybe then she could have fabricated something to bullshit her way out of this but for now, she would just have to go along with it. A simple nod was all it took to dissuade the director’s suspicion.
‘Excellent. Your compensation awaits your return.’ Marlon turned to again address the rest of the group. ‘A carriage will be waiting for you just beyond the city gates. I hope to see at least one of you back in four days.’ With a nod to his staff, the group was ushered out of the door.
Satori was still firmly grasped by the creature referred to as G.U.R.T. She turned as best she could to shout back towards the office, ‘Are we placing bets on who makes it back because I’d like to get in on that action!’
An exasperated Marlon slammed the doors to his upsetting space shut – an upsetting farewell to the latest band of victims.
Monster of the month 
Leave a comment