[Quest] Wine, Ale & Spirits

[Ganondorf]

Kolith strode along the beaten path, the setting sun framing the sky in a vivid orange. He had been walking most of the day, a boar-skin bag slung over his shoulder, following the twists and turns of the road. He breathed deeply of the twilight air, at peace. The Forbidden Grove would always be his home, but being out in nature, simply living in the moment, was a close second.

Perhaps it was a result of his astonishing defiance of death, but life seemed sweeter since his return. Also a contributor would have been his successful strengthening of his resolve, something he hadn’t even noticed he lost until it was presented to him. With the Elder Spirits’ blessing, he left the Forbidden Grove to finally begin his calling; to protect Erde Nona from the Unmade.

Though his lunchtime meal of fresh fish had been filling, his stomach rumbled. The warmth of the sun vanished from the air, replaced by the pleasant coolness of evening. That would soon deepen into an icy chill. He would soon need somewhere to rest for the night.

A large village appeared on the horizon as he crested a hill. Half of the settlement was bordered by a new wooden fence. As Kolith drew closer, he saw the townsfolk labouring away at the construction of the barrier. The burlier men hauled large planks of wood with pointed tops from prefabricated piles, dumping them near other villagers who stood them up, lowered them into divots in the earth, and hammered them sturdily into place. A few gave him a friendly wave as he headed towards the village. Kolith returned the gesture, happy to meet such kind people.

“Good evening,” Kolith said to a thick armed man who had stopped to wipe sweat from his brow. The villager returned the greeting, unfazed by Kolith’s less than pristine appearance. “This looks to be a new palisade, is it not?”

“Yes,” the man said. “We have been lucky enough to get by without having to build a barricade for a while, but the town voted to do so since the Unmade have appeared.”

Kolith frowned. “Unmade? Here?”

“Fear not,” the villager said. “None have been remotely close to us. But unlike brigands and bandits, the Unmade can’t be fended off easily.”

I wouldn’t have thought brigands and bandits would be easy to deal with either, Kolith thought.

“That is wise,” Kolith said. “Though if they’re determined, I don’t know if wood will stop them.”

“It is all we have for now,” the man said. “We will work on strengthening it as time goes on. Besides, as I said, it is merely precautionary.”

“Indeed. Say, do you know where I could find lodgings for the night?”

The villager pointed down the main street of the village. A number of two and three story buildings faced each other across the street, porch lanterns burning, as people shifted in and out. Kolith’s enhanced ears heard the lively din that most taverns inculcated at this time of day.

“Any of those,” the man said. “We’re popular as a rest stop for travellers.”

Kolith observed another tavern, closest to him, though the turnout there seemed much lower. The burning lantern barely gave off any light. “What about that place?”

“The Crescent Moon Alehouse.” The man paused, consternation on his face, before it broke before a chuckle. “Some people are saying it’s haunted.”

Kolith raised an eyebrow.

The man shrugged. “They’re the rumours. Unfortunately, those rumours are driving customers away. Probably just some scheme from the other tavern owners to increase their own profits.”

Kolith nodded. “Thank you for your assistance.”

As he strolled through the centre of the village, he reconsidered his designation of ‘village.’ It was larger than most settlements he had seen, though for Kolith that didn’t mean much – he lived most his life on a farm and the rest in a forest. Even so, the number of houses and the height of many of them, some double or even triple storied, surprised him. As did the number of people gathering at the taverns and strolling the street. Nowhere near Arcadia’s size, but bigger than a standard village in the middle of nowhere as well.

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a pale white glow along it, while the sky brimmed in deep blue and black. Kolith headed towards the taverns, inviting with their soft candlelight and promises of food and rest... but he couldn’t take his mind off of the Crescent Moon Alehouse. He felt a pull towards the dimly lit tavern, something indescribable.

Yet his stomach demanded to be filled, and his travel weary legs to rest, and the other taverns looked much more appealing.

Kolith headed into the nearest one, promising himself he would investigate the Crescent Moon in the morning.

 

[Ganondorf]

Kolith stepped out of the tavern as warm morning light washed over his skin. He stretched deeply like a limber predator awaking from sleep, slapping his chest firmly. As his eyes refocused, he spotted the supposedly haunted alehouse across the road. In the naked light of day, it looked far less intimidating and scary. Yet no travellers exited, nor was there a general din of customers eating breakfast within.

As he readied himself to resume his journey, the memory from the previous night jumped into focus. He told himself he would inspect the tavern in case there was any weight to the rumours. Though he was still inexperienced with the Unmade, a supposed haunting could be the result of its festering touch. Kolith looked to the town’s outskirts, where the half finished palisade bordered it. These people held genuine concerns about the Unmade. Even if it didn’t turn out to be so, Kolith couldn’t ignore the possibility that he could stamp out an infestation before it ate the town from the inside out.

The doors to the Crescent Moon Alehouse were closed. Kolith pushed but they didn’t open. A crescent shaped moon window in the door revealed little within.

The Elder Spirit Vessel rapped his knuckles on the doors. “Hello? Is anyone here?”

Kolith heard a grunt echo inside the tavern, then the clomping of boots on wood. An unshaven man with a dour face jingled the locks inside and open the doors outward forcefully, making Kolith take a step backwards.

“What do you want?” the man said. His deep brow almost entirely covered his eyes.

“A... a drink?” Kolith said.

“Why are you asking me a question?” he said. He waited a moment, then sighed and waved him in. “Come on, then.”

The owner stomped behind the bar. Kolith sat on a stool, placing his elbows on the countertop. While the owner fetched a glass, Kolith surveyed the tavern. Three long tables with chairs filled the main room, all except the end section of the last table covered in a slight film of dust. A staircase led up to the second floor, where Kolith surmised the rooms for the guests were.

Dust covered the banister of the stairwell, too.

The owner slammed the beer down on the bar hard enough to send suds over the lip of the mug and down the side. “There.”

Kolith hadn’t drunk alcohol in some time, but he sipped the beer anyway. It was surprisingly good, especially for a place doing so poorly.

“This... this is really nice,” Kolith said.

“So what?” the man said, crossing his arms. “Look at the joint. Best beer in the whole damn town and no one even comes in...”

Perfect. A natural opening. “Why is that?”

The owner glared at Kolith. “What’s it to you?”

Defensive. He needed to prod more. “I heard rumours that your tavern was haunted.”

The man’s face twitched but he said nothing. “Nonsense. People will say anything in this stupid town.”

“Why would people be saying that?” Kolith said, taking another mouthful of beer. “People are missing out.”

The man scowled, growling. Every sentence seemed to aggravate him more. “You going to stop nursing that drink or what?”

Kolith considered downing the rest of the beer and walking out. The owner obviously didn’t want to talk about his failing business. Before he could lift the mug to his lips, the amber liquid inside drained away as if a crack in the glass spilled his drink onto the countertop. Except the countertop was dry.

“What...” Kolith said.

“Oh, damn it!” the owner said. “Syd, you can’t keep doing this! It’s not even night, you freeloading bastard!”

“I... who?” Kolith said.

The owner glowered at Kolith as if he just made a disparaging remark about his mother. “Syd... uh... he’s a troublemaking drunk. Been pouring something in my beer barrels. Makes the drinks evaporate after a time.”

“Huh. So the ghost stories are, in actuality, someone sabotaging your stock?”

“Look, you’re not going to make me give you a refund, are you?” the man said. “As you can clearly see, I’m having enough trouble making ends meet lately.”

Kolith examined the glass. Only a few bubbles clung stubbornly to the interior of the mug. This Syd person must have been a proprietor of another of the taverns in town. There was a lot of competition for business after all – Kolith could see the motivation. But after all was said and done, this wasn’t an Unmade issue at all. It wasn’t even a spiritual one. The responsibility Kolith felt for investigating the tavern evaporated like his beer.

“I hope things turn around for you,” Kolith said, standing to leave.

“I doubt that’s going to happen,” the man muttered under his breath, though Kolith still heard him.

Kolith lifted the glass to hand to the owner. A wave of goosebumps pimpled his skin.

“What...”

The owner frowned. “What? What is it? Give me the glass and go, will you?”

Kolith stared at the mug. Something didn’t feel right. Touching the glass brought a familiar sensation to his mind – weak, but familiar. No, it couldn’t be. His powers didn’t work that way... did they?

He focused. A thread of spiritual residue lingered on the object, barely visible. Kolith drew on his knowledge of the spirit world, and then suddenly, his vision changed, everything painted over with faint blues.

The bartender took a frightened stumble backwards, his back slapping against the wall. “Oh no, you’re one of them, aren’t you?! I don’t need no more glowing eyes in here!”

Kolith glanced at his reflection in the glass mug. His eyes shone with a ghostly cyan light, much like when he channelled one of the Elder Spirits. Had he just tapped into the powers of the spiritual realm on his own?

No, not entirely. The rush of strength and vitality that accompanied a bonding with an Elder Spirit was not there. Perhaps it was an offshoot of their powers, somehow lingering in his body. Or maybe he developed a lesser skill, something related to the spiritual realm but not something that empowered him.

Kolith looked about the room.

A bearded man stood beside him, stomach round and protruding, his body transparent. His clothes were out of place for a town such as this; long trousers, leather shoes, a cotton jacket and a striped tie. He looked very satisfied with himself, wiping the sleeve of his jacket across his mouth, until his eyes fell on Kolith. He froze, then waved his hand in front of Kolith’s face.

“I can see you,” Kolith said.

The ghost yelled in a high pitched squeal and ran to the back wall, vanishing into it.

Kolith blinked rapidly, removing his new vision, and looked to the bartender.

“That ghost just drank my beer and ran away,” Kolith said, narrowing his eyes. “I think you and I need to have a discussion.”

Total word count - 1957

 

[Ganondorf]

Kolith sat across from the owner at one of the disused, dusty tables, his eyes unflinchingly locked on him. The sounds of town life filtered through the closed doors and windows, establishing the beginning of a new day. No one knocked on the Crescent Moon’s entrance in the time Kolith had been there and he suspected it would remain that way.

“This haunting wasn’t the rumour it was made out to be,” Kolith said, arms folded over his chest. “You have a ghost. A ghost that steals your patrons’ drinks and, I’m assuming, meals. No wonder you’re business is failing.”

The owner, Gary, slumped in the chair. His tilted head combined with his heavy brow made it look like he had no eyes. The irritation and snappiness he exhibited earlier receded once Kolith saw the beer swilling spirit, and he quickly joined the dots.

“But you know about this ghost,” Kolith continued. “You know what it’s doing and you’re happy to let it despite what it’s doing to your tavern.”

Kolith assumed such a pointed jab at the truth would open the floodgates, but Gary still sulked quietly, unable to raise his head.

A stronger approach, then. “Is this ghost a product of the Unmade?”

Gary’s head shot up, his brow raising enough for his eyes to be visible for the first time. “No! Nothing like that!”

“Then what?” Kolith said. “Why are you protecting it?”

Gary let out a defeated whimper. “If I tell you, will you keep it a secret? I can’t... I can’t let people know. If they found out, I’ll be run out of town.”

Kolith nodded. His interest in helping the man overrode any need to spread the news around. Perhaps it could be dealt with discretely. “Yes. I want to help you.”

Gary looked at Kolith. “Yeah. You must be a medium or something.”

“Close enough. So please, tell me your story.”

“It all started a few months ago,” Gary said. “The ghost your saw – his name is Syd – he kind of showed up out of the blue. You can see from his clothes he’s pretty well to do – or at least, he was, when he was alive. He appeared to me and told me a roving gang of bandits killed him not far from our town. He was looking to set up some trading post or something, I can’t remember the details.”

Kolith felt a chill in the air again. Gary must have noticed it, too, since he shivered.

“He’s come back, hasn’t he?” Kolith said.

“Gary! What are you doing, talking about me?” a disembodied voice cried. “I thought we were going to keep this whole thing under wraps!”

Beside Gary, the ghost materialised, his form still transparent. Perhaps he made a conscious decision to become visible to others this time.

“He wants to help you, Syd!” Gary said. “You saw him, he could see you before!”

“I was intending to help Gary,” Kolith said. “In fact, I thought I was helping him from you. What help do you need, ghost?”

Syd puffed out his cheeks. “Ghost? Can you call me by my name? It’s Syd, all right?”

“Cut the defensiveness already,” Gary said. “You tell the story. It’s more yours than mine anyway.”

“Fine,” Syd said, crossing his arms impertinently. “But we’ll need to talk in the cellar.” He lifted a hand as Kolith opened his mouth. “I’ll tell you why when we get in there!”

Kolith and Gary walked over to the trap door behind the bar. Syd passed through the wooden barrier like it wasn’t there. Heaving the door open, Gary descended down a ladder. Kolith followed him into a rectangular cellar, the walls lined largely with wooden barrels. One wall had a selection of wine bottles. A single oil lantern hung from the ceiling, providing the only light.

The trap door slammed shut of its own accord. A moment later, Syd reappeared before them.

“Now, my story,” the ghost said. “Like Gary said, I was coming here from Arcadia to set up a trading deal for the lumber nearby. On my way – herk – bandits robbed me and slit my throat. I woke up a little later as a ghost. I’ll skip over all the getting-used-to-being-a-ghost stuff and get to the juicy bits.”

“Eventually I found the Crescent Moon. Turns out, a couple of the bandits that killed me were there, and they were sticking up old Gary here for some free drinks. It had been going on for a while; this sleepy little town was at their mercy. So I appeared to Gary, and when he stopped wetting himself –“

Gary humphed.

“- I explained what happened to me, and that I wanted to get revenge on those damn bandits. So we struck a deal. The next time the bandits came back for their ‘payment,’ I’d take care of them in exchange for some food, drink and board.”

Kolith frowned. “You’re a ghost. What purpose does food and drink serve you?”

“Pleasure!” Syd said. “Sure I don’t need it, but I can taste it. I can get drunk! And I like having company, so that’s why I stay with personable old Gary here!”

“So, did you take care of the bandits?” Kolith asked.

“Yep! Easy enough to lure them in the back room, then thud! Unexpected flying meat cleaver! Only...”

“Get on with it,” Gary said.

“Well, whenever I killed a bandit, eventually they showed up here as a ghost, too. And to stop any bad blood – maybe bad ectoplasm? – I had to cut them in on my deal. But when the bandits started dying here, more and more of them came to get Gary, and each time me and the other ghosts would do in the living bandits to join all the dead ones.”

“Don’t they mind that they’re killing their own kind?” Kolith asked.

Syd laughed, his ethereal stomach bouncing. “You kidding? You ever heard ‘there’s no honour among thieves?’ This mob proves that! They want the free booze and food to keep flowing, so they’ll happily off their bandit mates! Besides, it’s kind of a favour – they get to live here forever and enjoy themselves!”

“So...” Kolith said, piecing the situation together, “Syd showed up to deal with the bandit problem, only his solution had a big asterisk, and that asterisk is eating Gary out of house and home.”

“Well, tavern, really,” Syd said.

“But what else can I do?” Gary said. “As long as I keep the ghosts happy, they’ll protect the town from the bandits. The town couldn’t have prospered like this if I didn’t keep doing this.”

“Ah, so that’s why you wanted to keep this secret. Admirable, but it’s not sustainable,” Kolith said, gesturing to the ghost. “Syd and his merry men will eventually force you out of business, since they seem incapable of controlling themselves. Syd, can’t you limit your food and drink to outside business hours? If you don’t scare the customers away, Gary might be able to stay afloat.”

“Not that easy, I’m afraid,” Syd said. “The bandit ghosts? They aren’t as polite or good at following orders. They just do what they want.” He looked around as if to check he wasn’t being listened to. “That’s why we’re in the cellar. I don’t know why, but they don’t seem to know about this place. Can’t talk to you about this with them around. They like the status quo, you see.”

“But don’t they understand that with no customers, there’s no libations?”

“Sadly not,” Syd said. “Bandits aren’t especially clever.”

“So what happens if Gary has to close down?”

Syd looked around. “I’d say you’ll literally have a ghost town here, before long. I might be an expert at making a deal, but if Gary can’t follow through on his end... the bandits will just find their pleasure elsewhere. And there won’t be any deals to stop them doing that.”

“Have you tried asking them to leave?” Kolith asked.

Syd laughed again, and this time, so did Gary. “Leave? All the free food and drink they want, and all they have to do is kill, the one other thing they love to do? We tried that already, anyway. They’ll kill Gary if he ever brings it up again.”

“This has to end,” Kolith said, turning to Gary. “This is a stick of dynamite swiftly reaching the end of its wick and it's going to destroy this whole town and everything that's been built here.”

“Once again, how?” Gary said. “You heard Syd! The bandit ghosts won’t change their behaviour, and without them, the other bandits will take over the town. I’m just trying to tread water here.”

Kolith went silent as he processed the information. “Maybe I can speak with the bandit spirits. I have an idea.”

3426

 

[Ganondorf]

Kolith climbed out of the cellar and into the tavern. He blinked, his vision tinging a dull cyan. The bar and table area were devoid of spirits. And patrons, unfortunately for the proprietor.

“Maybe we should discuss this idea first?” Gary said as he pressed the trap door into the floor with his foot. “This is a delicate area we’re approaching here.”

Syd slipped through the floor effortlessly to join them. “Yeah, these guys don’t listen to orders very well. Probably why they’re all bandits.”

Kolith disagreed. Objectionable behaviour required a stern authority figure to resolve. These two saps had no concept of a solution because they kept enabling the destructive behaviour of the ghosts. Trying to appease them with sycophantic gestures only emboldened the dead bandits and prolonged the problem.

The Beast Spirit Vessel raised a finger to his lips to signal silence. “Bandits! Get out here!”

Gary’s face went pale. “What are you doing?!”

“Don’t bother,” Syd said. “They don’t come out until the sun goes down.”

“Yeah, but he might wake them!” Gary said.

Kolith looked at Syd, his eyes glowing blue. “Why do they wait until then? You’re already up.”

“They prefer it that way,” Syd said. “I think that’s how they used to live. They’d sleep during the day and pillage at night. I know they killed me during daylight hours, but some just don’t like to work while the moon’s out.”

“Sleeping? Is this another pleasurable thing ghosts do that they don’t have to do?” Kolith asked.

Syd shrugged. “Kind of. It’s more habitual. They might not need the sleep, but they still have their old brains. They like it, so they do it. Besides, the town drunks tend to sleep during the day and drink at night anyway, so there’s not many people to steal from until night.”

“I’ll assume the town drunks are the last patrons of Gary’s?”

“They’re the only ones that don’t mind the ghosts,” Gary said.

“Perhaps I should stir them up myself, then,” Kolith said, heading towards the back door of the tavern. “Coddling them won’t fix matters.”

Gary rushed to the door, blocking Kolith from entering. “Please! I don’t care what you want to do when they wake up, but if they get up too early, it will just turn into a big fight and nothing will get better!”

“He’s right,” Syd said. “I appreciate your gung-ho attitude, but if you’re sincere about helping poor cash strapped Gary here, you need to listen.”

Kolith frowned a moment, before he loosened his expression. “All right. Since you’re both so insistent, I guess I can put the tough love on hold. What time should I expect them?”

Syd looked at his wrist, though he didn’t wear a watch. “Twilight. Just as the sun’s going down. Since it’s only early, you’ve got a wait on your hands.”

“Twilight?” Kolith said. “I didn’t count on staying here another day.”

Syd shrugged. “I’m not your mother.”

Kolith grunted, walking out through the entrance. “I’m getting some fresh air. I’ll be back before dark.”

The ambassador of the Elder Beasts strolled through the town. A bustling site for such an out-of-the-way place, he thought. The repetitive ring of the blacksmith’s hammer shaping metal punctuated a low murmur that filled the streets. Townspeople busied themselves at market stalls with an array of produce. Muscular men and women lugged tree-toppling axes over their shoulders as they left the village for lumber. Children ran about the streets giggling and chasing each other. Many had laid down roots here.

There was a lot at stake if Kolith couldn’t convince the ghosts to leave.

He walked outside the town gates. Progress on the wooden palisade fence fortifying the settlement continued. Kolith didn’t think the weak barricade would even keep bandits out, let alone a scurrying armada of Unmade horrors, but perhaps the peace of mind made the effort worth it in the end.

A short distance out of town, Kolith spotted a small copse of trees on a raised section of the plains. He headed there, placing a hand on the bark. Despite living most of his life at the family farm, the untouched majesty of nature breathed peace and contentment into him more than any nostalgic memory he could conjure.

Beneath the shade of the trees, Kolith lied down, placing his hands behind his head. He smiled as the gentle wind tussled the leaves and branches above him. He was supposed to be travelling now, searching out more Unmade corruption, so he didn’t have any plans with all of this free time he found himself with. It was only the middle of the morning, and the ghosts wouldn’t present until sunset. Maybe he could help hammer some of the pointed wooden planks into the perimeter of the town? He quickly rejected that idea. He wouldn’t exert himself to build a pointless illusion of safety.

Still, he had to do something with his day. Exercise sounded fun, but he wanted to stay fresh in case an incident occurred tonight – no point wearing himself out when he was expecting trouble.

High above, a hawk screeched. Kolith sat up and located the bird. It glided on the air currents, wings curved but not flapping, as its keen eyes scoured the field below for prey.

He wondered if it patrolled here as an agent of Rokku, granting her vision of Kolith’s quest. Even so, watching the majestic raptor circling in the sky gave Kolith a purpose, at least for a little while.

Kolith sat cross-legged and grasped his fist, holding it before his chest, and closed his eyes. Breathing deeply, he probed outwards with his spiritual senses, skimming the gossamer thread that bound all living creatures together, and he to the hawk. He climbed that thread until he reached the avian, and their minds touched.

I request to see through your eyes, hear through your ears, smell through your nose, Kolith said.

The hawk didn’t respond in words, instead using feelings and emotions that immediately transferred to Kolith. It acknowledged him as Rokku’s representative, indicating it respected the Elder Avian as its sovereign, and acquiesced to the petition.

The next moment, Kolith soared above the earth, the wind ruffling his feathers. No, not his, but he felt it. The sensations experienced by the hawk transferred to him as well as it shifted its gaze. The precision of its sight floored the Elder Beast Vessel. He had never seen so clearly, so immaculately. He knew many animals’ senses were far sharper than a human’s, but to experience it firsthand truly hammered that point home.

Kolith was merely a passenger as the hawk wheeled around, searching for its next meal. Every little movement was captured in its incredible eyes, from the sway of the grass to the small insects that darted between the green blades. Nothing drew the raptor’s attention so far. However, something grabbed Kolith firmly by his throat.

Some distance from the town, a thin plume of smoke curled into the air surrounded by tents. The people at the camp collected swords, axes, and other weaponry. They cinched up the laces on boots, donned leather jerkins, and moved into a group. Their faces animated, they hurled fists into the air and shouted a war cry.

The bandits, Kolith thought. They’re getting ready to ransack the town. And this time it looks like every single one will be there this time.

The time for the bandit ghosts’ slumbering had passed. If Kolith didn’t organise them soon, all that would remain of the town in the morning would be fire and ash.

Kolith released his grip on the hawk’s body... but his consciousness stayed aloft in the air. He tried again, this time willing himself back, but still met the same resistance. The bird’s eyes locked onto his meditating body, but he saw nothing there that would impede his return.

Unless...

Combining his worging ability with his newfound spirit sight, the hawk’s eyes shone blue. As he suspected, a ghost leaned over Kolith’s body, hands firmly on Kolith’s shoulders.

What the hell was he doing? Was he somehow suppressing Kolith’s pathway back to his body? How could he do that? More to the point, why?

Unable to speak with the hawk’s beak or through telepathy, Kolith persuaded the bird to land in the boughs of the tree by his body. It seemed skittish at the idea, but ultimately glided down and wrapped taloned feet around the bark. It screeched at the bandit ghost.

At first, the bandit looked surprised, perhaps due to the hawk’s glowing eyes. Then he cottoned on. “Oh. This must be your body, huh? You really shouldn’t leave valuables lying around. I hear there are a lot of bandits in the area.”

4888

 

[Ganondorf]

Gary nervously peeked out the tavern window. The sun began its descent towards the horizon, casting pastel orange and blue into the firmament. People filed back to their houses and lit lanterns hanging near their front doors as the dark of night slowly crept in.

Kolith hadn’t come back yet. Something didn’t feel right.

Syd materialised, hands in his ghostly pockets. How did ghost clothing work, anyway? Was he stuck in the same outfit that he died in for all eternity?

“He hasn’t come back, huh?” Syd said, drifting to the window.

Gary shook his head. “You don’t think he left, do you?”

“He seemed peeved about spending another day here,” Syd said, shrugging. “Maybe he took off without telling you. No skin off his nose, I suppose.”

Gary swallowed through the constriction in his throat. Kolith represented hope for him and his livelihood for the first time in months. Had he squandered the chance to fix his fortunes? Did he even offer to pay him for his services? Why wasn’t he doing everything he could to stay on Kolith’s good side?

Instead he might have pushed him away, arguing with him about the best way to go about the situation rather than just focusing on resolving it regardless. If only he hadn’t insisted. Who knows? Maybe Kolith’s way would have been better. It certainly would’ve been an improvement on no way at all.

“Look, I don’t want to pile worries upon worries,” Syd said, “but there’s something different about the bandits tonight.”

Gary turned. The heat drained from his face and spun like a whirlpool in his gut. “What?! What do you mean?”

“They’re acting differently,” Syd said. “They don’t seem as rowdy. They’re more reserved, almost secretive. Like they think something’s about to happen and they don’t want me to know about it.”

“Oh gods, like what?!”

Syd shook his head. “They don’t tell me anything, Gary. You know that. I’m not ‘one of them,’ remember? Just one of their victims.”

Gary’s mind raced. A whole lot of unknowns seemed to be spiralling towards a disastrous situation, he could feel it. But what could he do about it? He knew nothing of what was happening, but he couldn’t run out of the alehouse either. The ghosts would take control and he’d be out on the streets.

“Syd!” Gary opened the door and waved towards it. “Go find Kolith! If he’s still here, maybe you can convince him to turn back and-“

“Oh no,” a disembodied voice said. “Syd’s staying here.”

Passing through the back wall of the alehouse floated the bandit ghost Gary recognised as the unofficial leader, Ropan. Colours solidified in his pale blue form, though barely adding variety to his appearance. Black jacket and pants, black hair in a ponytail, black beard, brown eyes so dark as to appear black. Gary always thought his build placed him as one of the shit kickers of the group, though beneath his small frame leered the soul of a domineering narcissist.

“What?” Syd said. “I can go wherever I please!”

Ropan laughed, a deep and booming sound. “That has never been the case, Syd, and you know it. And now that you’re working with someone to evict us all... well, I’d say chances of it being the case are about where you’d expect them to be.”

Two bandit spirits burst from the back wall and seized Syd by the arms, grinning wickedly.

“Unhand me!” Syd shouted, struggling against his captors, kicking his feet. “This is not the agreement!”

“Agreement?” Ropan said, stifling a cry of laughter. “Do you think we’ve entered into some binding contract? We’re bandits! We’ve all been written off by society, left alone to claw out a measly life for ourselves, and even when we tried to have a little fun, you killed us!”

“After you killed me!” Syd bit back. “I was just going about my day! You deserved it!”

Ropan floated over to Syd. The businessman’s spirit went limp, his eyes trembling as the bandit leader shoved his face into his. “But your revenge has finally soured. Once I discovered how to break free of the boundaries of this curse, I contacted the new leader of the bandits. We’ve been co-ordinating for some time now. And tonight is the night that we finally raze this prison to the ground, and move onto the rest of Erde Nona!”

Gary clutched at his stomach. The worst was happening and he was powerless to do anything about it. Kolith was his best chance and he probably wasn’t anywhere near the town anymore.

“It w-won’t work!” Syd said, fighting a trembling voice. “People will s-stop you!”

“We are not of this realm,” Ropan said. “No sword or arrow can pierce us. No magic spell can harm us. And even those who might understand how to combat spirits and phantasms will not be prepared for the tidal wave of us who will drown this land. Anyone who sees the beauty of our existence and wants eternal life is welcome to it. And anyone who opposes us will be left to fester and decay on the ground!”

Gary’s legs stiffened as his fear drenched him. Everything he was afraid would happen began unfolding before his eyes. Not just his alehouse was on the line anymore, and it was all because he failed to act on his spectral squatters. His father was right. He was a screw-up.

No! An errant thought rose up out of the self pitying mire in his mind. Whether it was a result of anxious energy ricocheting around in his head or a true backbone asserting itself in the midst of defeat, Gary found his legs shatter their rigidity and sprint to the door as if they had a mind of their own. Apparently his unexpected dash for freedom caught his ghostly intruders off guard as well. They watched for a moment, stupefied that Gary might rebel against them.

Gary sprinted down the street of the town as the angry voices of the spirits shrank behind him into white noise. A few townspeople gave him strange looks as he kept running, and why shouldn’t they? Everyone thought his alehouse was haunted – rightly so, but they didn’t know for sure – and now here he was racing down the main street after the sun had set.

He ran out of the town gate, past the lone worksman hammering in the last few stakes to complete the palisade barrier hugging the settlement. Would the townspeople complete the only meagre line of defence before the bandits turned up in force? Would it even slow them down?

It was then that Gary realised he ran with no destination in mind. He slowed, panting, only now realising how out of breath he was. Wiping the sweat from his face, he looked around the quickly dimming outskirts of town. If he wanted to save his alehouse and the town, there could be only one person who could help.

Gary turned back to the man dumping in another stake into the dug out depression in the ground. He picked up a hammer on the ground and spotted the scared tavern owner. “Oh, Gary! What are you doing out here at this late hour?”

“Henry! Did you happen to see Kolith leave out this way today?”

Henry frowned. “Who?”

“Oh, uh... tall guy, burly, tattoos on his arms and face... a bear skin on his back?”

“Oh, yes!” Henry said, waving his hammer about. “Hard to forget a face like that. He went off the path and up that way. He didn’t look like he was in a hurry.”

Gary took a breath. Hope! “Thank you, Henry! If I find him, free drinks for you for life!”

Before Henry could respond, Gary bolted into the direction he was pointed, eyes keen in the fading light.

Total Word Count: 6197

 

[Ganondorf]

The hawk shifted nervously on the branch. She didn’t want to be here any longer.

Unfortunately for her, she had no choice.

Both the jittery raptor and Kolith watched through the same eyes as a dishevelled bandit spirit loomed over Kolith’s meditating body, his hands plunged through the Elder Beast Vessel’s shoulders up to his elbows. His rounded muscles appeared like flesh coloured water, rippling at the touch of the ghost’s ethereal body.

Hours had dragged by. Kolith had tried everything he could think of to end his imprisonment in the hawk – ordering the bird to squawk at the bandit ghost, ordering the bird to snatch the attention of other villagers nearby and directing them to his immobile body, and even convincing his host to swoop his jailor. Unfortunately they sailed through its translucent body as if it didn’t exist.

On more than one occasion Kolith attempted to summon his spiritual powers, but to no avail. Either he couldn’t manifest them while transferred into another creature, or the bandit ghost suppressed them somehow.

It made no difference. He was locked out of his body until the raiding spirit decided to relinquish his hold on him.

The concept proved difficult for the host bird to accept. She couldn’t remain still, rifling her beak through the plumage of her wings and soft underbelly, shifting on her talons, and releasing a frazzled shriek whenever the angst needed an audible outlet. Kolith expressed his regret, though this did little to soothe the avian.

Did Gary and Syd wonder where he was? Only half of the sun still peeked over the horizon, leaving in its wake a darkening purple sky as the first stars dimly glimmered. He promised to return to speak with the unruly squatters, but now things had evolved into a much more frightening scenario. The living bandits would soon storm the village, and they had no clue that a river of blades and death thundered down the road.

“Kolith!”

The hawk squared its honed vision on the source of the shout. A man scrambled towards the tree, desperation etched deeply into his face. Gary?

“Kolith, you didn’t leave!” Gary said, relief saturating his words. “Did you lose track of-“

Gary’s face whitened as he spotted the cyan tinged spirit hovering over Kolith’s body. The undead bandit turned around.

“Nikor?”

“You!” the spirit said, apparently named Nikor. “What are you doing out here? Get back in the tavern and make us some damn drinks!”

There! The focus wavered, and Kolith picked at the barrier keeping him expelled from his body. It quavered at his burrowing. The Elder Beast Vessel threw his entire will into a last ditch effort, and the barricade yielded to him. His senses went dark as he vacated the hawk’s body, and less than a heart beat later, his eyes snapped open.

The bandit ghost spun back, the realisation of his error evident in his wide eyes.

Ursine strength flooded Kolith’s body as he tapped into Gallo’s gifts. He spread his jaws, canine teeth now elongated, and expelled a forceful roar. The voice of the Elder Bear Spirit released a visible shockwave, knocking Gary several feet backwards onto his back and even affecting the bandit spirit. Nikor’s ghostly hands ripped out of Kolith’s shoulders and he caught himself a short distance away. The hawk, already needing little prompting to leave, absconded at the terrifying cry.

Leaping out of his grounded pose, wraith-like blue light ensconced Kolith’s forearms, solidifying to create ghostly bear paws much larger than his own limbs. Forming the claws of Gallo was instinctual when bonding with his spirit, though Kolith didn’t expect they could damage the bandit ghost before him.

That was, until a look of terror swept the spectre’s face.

“Oh, this scares you?” Kolith said, grinning.

He pounced, releasing the pent up frustration of the afternoon on his captor.

+++

Kolith kicked open the door of the Crescent Moon Alehouse. The hinges snapped, launching the thick door onto the ground with a loud thud.

“Sorry,” Kolith said to Gary. “I’ll get that fixed. Got a little carried away.”

Gary’s head shrank into his shoulders a little. “That’s... alright.”

The Elder Beast Vessel stomped into the tavern. He grasped the bandit spirit that kept him immobile around the neck with his spirit-forged hands, holding him aloft. Gary gingerly entered, determined to hide in Kolith’s shadow.

“Ropan!” Kolith roared, his eyes pulsing bluish-white. “Get out here!”

Gary filled him in on the dealings of the tavern in detail on their way to the alehouse. It only took the end of his world to loosen his lips, but at least he recognised that his silence had done more damage than good. Nikor had learned certain magical skills in life but had no reason to utilise them as a ghost until today, at the behest of Ropan, his leader. They also seemed to be limited – whether that was a result of lacking a body or just inexperience, Gary didn’t know. Nikor clasped the ghost claws wrapped around his neck but otherwise, smartly, remained silent and compliant.

A bearded spirit phased through the tavern’s back wall. An entourage of ghosts followed in lock step, floating into the centre of the alehouse to almost fill it. They made for an intimidating sight.

Two ghosts trailed behind, restraining Syd. The dead salesman accepted his plight, dragging limply in the air by his arms. He raised his head and saw Kolith, and immediately lowered it again.

“Ah, this must be the vagabond that shits in the woods!” Ropan said, a condescending smirk on his face.

His bandit gang laughed, a mocking chorus directed at Kolith. Gary shuffled nervously, hands trembling.

“I don’t know if this is such a good idea,” Gary said.

“You want me to fix this? Let me do it my way,” Kolith said as the laughter petered out.

The Elder Beast Vessel tightened his grip around Nikor’s throat and waved him about. Nikor grimaced, his legs flopping helplessly.

“Of course you’re worried about me,” Kolith said. “Why would you send this mage of yours to lock me out of my own body? You knew if I came back, I would ruin your plan.”

Ropan shrugged casually. “It’s a little late now, don’t you think? What’s one man going to do to stop an entire brigade of cutthroats?”

“Nikor’s a looser end than you’re admitting to,” Kolith said, hurling the bandit mage to the ground. “He told me something interesting about you.”

“Oh? Well, don’t keep us all in suspense here, cave man.”

“The bandits around here, including both your ghost and flesh ones, are run like a pride of lions,” Kolith said. “There is a single male that all the other lions must respect and obey if they want to remain in the protection of the other lions in that pride. But that leader can be dethroned by a younger, fitter, stronger lion.”

Ropan smiled, then burst into laughter. “Do you think you actually stand a chance here? There’s a difference between bandits and lions. Unlike those big stupid cats, all of these men will fight alongside me. Do you think you can take us all on?”

A number of his bandit brethren moved up and formed a line between Ropan and Kolith. They made fists, punched palms, and sneered.

“Cover your ears,” Kolith whispered to Gary.

“What?”

Kolith bellowed with the primal fury of Gallo. Every piece of glass in the alehouse shattered, from the mugs behind the bar to the windows. Tables and chairs rolled over like they had been struck by gale force winds. The bandit ghosts cowered at the almighty boom, slapping hands over their ears too slowly.

While the marauding ghouls battled with disorientation, Kolith grabbed Nikor by the leg, who was still prostrate on the ground, and swung him like a club. The eager line of defence was bowled over and tumbled to the side in a pile, Nikor swiftly following.

The next moment, Kolith clamped a bear paw around Ropan’s head and plucked him from the air. Struggling, Ropan fished an ethereal knife from his belt and went for the stab. Kolith clenched his meaty hand, emitting a stomach churning crunch. The knife fell from limp fingers, dissolving into smoke on impact with the ground. Glowing cyan liquid ran between Kolith’s fingers and dripped to the floorboards.

“Ropan is defeated,” Kolith said, hurling the dead undead bandit leader across the tavern. A compressed stub remained where his head once was. “As you can all see, ghosts can die. At least, I can make it happen. So now that I’ve won the fight, you all follow me now. Unless of course, you would all like to chase your leader into the beyond?”

The bravado of moments earlier drained from every bandit ghost. Most looked around noncommittally, though painfully obvious was the decision they had to make.

“Look, we didn’t even like Ropan that much,” one transparent bandit said. “He was a dick. But he was the boss, so we did what he said. He let us do what we want. That’s all any of us want.”

Most of the bandits nodded with that appraisal of their former leader.

“Let Syd go,” Kolith said.

The bandits released him. The dead salesman rushed over to Kolith. “Thank you! But... what now?”

Gary sighed. “All that glass... that’s going to cost a pretty coin.”

“Now here’s the deal,” Kolith said, addressing the bandit spirits. “You have all, in one way or another, fallen into this aimless, destructive lifestyle. It caused all of your deaths, and yet you all still carry on as if it didn’t. As with all things cruel and selfish, it will return to you tenfold. Look at Ropan and let it click in all your heads that even as a ghost, your evil ways will catch up to you.”

Ropan’s body began to dissolve. His essence spiralled up into the sky like blue glitter until he no longer existed.

“You all deserve the same fate. Innocents like Syd have had their blood spilled because of you all. Well tonight is the night you all turn your lives – afterlives? – around. Tonight, instead of preying on good and true men like Gary here, you’ll be protecting them.”

The bandit ghosts murmured.

“A new thought for most of you,” Kolith said. “But I’m not just making you do this as penance for your actions. If you take up arms with me against the living bandits heading towards the village, you’ll not only be beginning to repay your karmic debt, but you may find yourselves with new outlooks and opportunities. Instead of being scorned and feared by the world, you could help this village become even more than it already is. You could all be part of society, where you live among other people who don’t want to arrest you or treat you badly. Defending against the bandits tonight will produce goodwill with the villagers. Knowing that near-invulnerable men and women protect them from all threats will erase any fear of your ghostly appearances. This could be a chance at a life many of you never had.”

Kolith didn’t mention that he wasn’t just doing this for the thieves, though. Ever since he learned about the wooden barricade erected around the village for the purpose of Unmade protection, he felt concern. He knew the flimsy palisades would crumble beneath an Unmade attack and he hated thinking the villagers trusted in it to do that job. At the very least, a horde of ghosts would put up a better defence should it ever come to that.

A moment of silence passed before a bandit spoke up. “Do you really think we believe any of that?”

“You don’t have to,” Kolith said. “It’s true, though. Gary will vouch for you all, I’m sure. But if the promise of an afterlife better than your original lives doesn’t entice you...”

Giant spirit bear paws crashed together.

“I’m certain something else can be done about your motivation.”

Total Word Count: 8201

 

[Ganondorf]

Kolith took a deep whiff of the crisp night air as he stood at the gateway into the village. Oil lanterns hanging from the palisades spilled their light over him and cast multilayered shadows of his buff body in front of him. A handful of moths flittered about the flames, catching the Elder Beast Vessel’s eye. He couldn’t communicate with insects since none of the Elder Beasts ruled that subsection of the animal kingdom. Could there be one out there? An Elder Moth? Elder Bee? Elder... Mosquito? He shivered. He hoped it wasn’t the last one.

In quick fashion, Kolith, Gary, and another man named Henry raced around the village, telling the villagers to stay indoors. They debated on whether they should spill the harrowing news of an encroaching bandit force but ultimately decided to tell them the truth. They would know soon enough anyway, and if they couldn’t beat them back, it was Henry’s job to ring the evacuation bell and gather everyone to safety through the gateway on the other side of the village.

Kolith blinked, activating his spirit vision. A horde of bandit wraiths hovered outside the gates, flanking him on both sides. Outside of their word, Kolith had no way to bind them. While their actions so far had been true to what they said – namely, that the one to depose the previous leader became the unquestioned leader themselves – he couldn’t be certain it wasn’t a way to lower his defences before they struck. Kolith just hoped his promise of a brighter future appealed to the undead raiders more than returning to a pointless afterlife that mimicked their deadly living ones.

Standing still didn’t feel right. It was one thing to lie in wait as the prey scuttled before a hiding space and to pounce on it, but waiting at the gates to the town quickly seemed like the wrong plan. If the battle went sideways, little stood in the bandits’ way to tear into the village. He had to meet them on his terms.

“Listen to me,” Kolith said. A number of bandit ghost heads turned towards him, while others couldn’t turn their glued eyes from the road’s apex on the horizon. “We’re going to ambush them. Follow me. Quick and quiet.”

Narri’s powers flooded Kolith’s body, producing glowing white stripes up his biceps. With the Elder Tiger’s influence, Kolith sprinted across the plains beyond the speed of a normal human.

A thick patch of trees and shrubs lined the road on either side. Kolith dashed into the right side, peering through the foliage. Some of his spectral allies slipped beside him while others hid on the opposite side of the road. His enhanced hearing picked up the crunch of boots on dirt, dozens of times over. The clattering of weapons and the low murmuring of the bandit force found its way to his ears much easier. As did the smell to his nose.

Shafts of light emanated from the other side of the road. Nikor, the bandit who dabbled in spiritual magic, suggested preparing an attack to dazzle the eyes of the enemies. It took time to assemble, but it appeared that he began with enough of a window. If it held the same potency as the disabling grip he used on Kolith to keep him evicted from his body, it would serve their cause very well.

Orange flames from torches floated on the horizon. Their boisterous approach didn’t need Kolith’s augmented senses to tell him of their presence.

“They will be here soon,” Kolith said. “Nikor, when I point at you, unleash your spell. As for the rest of you, as soon as the spell takes effect, attack without mercy.”

Transparent tiger paws overlayed Kolith’s hands, sporting wickedly sharp claws. There was no need to make them suffer. As long as their hedonistic joyride through life ended there, a clean and fast kill would be afforded to them.

Their patience was rewarded. The bandit army passed directly between the two segments of spectre forces. Kolith pointed at Nikor and bounded out of the vegetation, aiming squarely at the female bandit leading the charge. A brilliant flare of light stole Kolith’s vision...

Shimmering white ropes of chains burst from the earth and wrapped around Kolith’s wraith claws, slamming him to the ground. They pulled backwards, thrusting the Elder Beast Vessel’s chest forward, stretching his shoulder muscles to an inch from their breaking point. The metal links seared his spirit flesh as if they had been freshly removed from the forge.

Fighting his own pain, Kolith opened his eyes to the situation. Every bandit spirit collapsed on the ground, bound by identical chains that instead coiled around their bodies. They groaned and huffed, enduring the same tortuous burning he was, completely immobilised.

And there crouched Nikor, fingers digging into the earth, hands shining like stars.

Grinning.

“Nikor!” Kolith shouted. “Betrayer!”

A swift blow to his cheek sent Kolith’s awareness reeling. He blinked as sense returned. The female bandit stood before him, scowling. Her Mohawk hairstyle and the thick lines of blood red paint beneath her eyes gave her visage more menace. As did the double bladed axe she used as a support as she leaned in closer.

“No,” the woman said. “Nikor, even in death, remains loyal to his family. He would never let his sister die to this... thing that destroyed Ropan.”

Kolith heaved against the chains, but it only sank the links deeper into his spirit skin. A fresh wave of white hot agony rushed through him. And as an added incentive to stop moving, another chain whipped around his neck.

“Sister...” Kolith said through gritted teeth. “I guess there’s honour among thieves... when they’re siblings.”

“Please, Cinda,” Nikor said, looking up at her with a pained expression. “I can only hold him so long...”

Kolith shot a look at Nikor. He couldn’t maintain his stranglehold on them? Perhaps the stress of binding so many ghosts at once, coupled with the extra strain he must have needed to exert just to hold Kolith in place, was too much for the rookie necromancer to bear for long. Kolith tugged again at his binds, and this time found them less constrictive.

Cinda nodded to her brother’s request and kicked the side of her axe head, swinging it upright as she clasped it in both hands. “No fucking around, then. Try not to move your head too much. Not that you really can, but if I don’t make a clean chop, well... your death will be a lot more messy.”

Kolith breathed rapidly, each breath deeper and heavier than the last. He assumed Cinda would expect it to be symptoms of pre-death panic, but instead he was testing how badly the chains impacted his powers. He growled lowly, feeling a reverberation in the back of his throat like a quiet jackhammer.

Not enough, it would appear.

Without another word, Cinda hauled the axe over her shoulder and prepared to swing.

Kolith bared his teeth and roared with the primal force of Narri. The Elder Tiger’s voice rippled the very air around them, launching all the living bandits too close to Kolith on their back, while the others further away stumbled and clutched their ears. Weapons crashed to the ground.

Cinda flew backwards, her axe spinning away and out of her hands, landing clear across on the other side of the road. Nikor’s shining fingers were ripped from the ground, and so was the power that sustained the chains. Kolith watched as the links broke into chunks, peeling apart into silver sparkles. The bandit ghosts jumped up as their binds dissolved and looked to Kolith. At least they hadn’t forsaken him.

One thing had to be settled before he trusted any order he issued would be carried out. Kolith leapt upon Nikor, pinning the spectre with his ghost claws. He stared into the traitor’s eyes for a moment, then splattered his head all over the ground like cyan pudding.

“Now! Attack!”

The battle, if it could be called that, spanned a few minutes. Disorientated and largely unarmed, the bandit army were easy pickings for the spirits marching to Kolith’s drum. Even if the enemy plucked a weapon from the ground, steel and wood sheared through the bandit ghosts uselessly. Soon the blood speckled road went silent. Only Cinda remained.

She scrambled backwards down the road, grappling with the loose dirt to rise up. Kolith wiped his spectral tiger paw on the grass to rid himself of some particularly stubborn ectoplasm as he realised the peace of the battlefield and only Cinda’s shuffling to fill in the quiet.

Cinda finally found purchase and stood, only for Kolith to crash on top of her and slam her into the ground again.

“What was it you said to me?” Kolith said. “Oh yes. Try not to move your head too much.”

+++

Henry walked up to the gate. The night had truly taken hold, and yet the horrors it cloaked before were expunged. The townspeople tentatively left their houses, their eyes wide and darting.

“OK, I’ve told them they’re safe,” Henry said.

Gary looked to Kolith. “Are you sure we should do this?”

“We promised them,” Kolith said. “This is the only way to stop the town from becoming a literal ghost town. You can do this.”

Gary sighed deeply. “OK. I’ll do my best.”

The proprietor of the Crescent Moon Alehouse addressed the crowd. “Hello, everyone. Thank you for co-operating with us. You’ll be happy to know that the bandits are dead, thanks to Kolith... and, well... ghosts.”

The crowd murmured.

“I know that might sound unbelievable,” Gary said. “And many of you have spread the rumour that my place of business was haunted. Well, there was some truth to those words.”

Syd materialised out of thin air, sending a wave of shocked gasps throughout the gathering. Kolith predicted that the businessman’s spectre would soften the blow of the town’s supernatural activities, rather than a sudden gang of bandit ghosts.

“Good evening, everyone,” Syd said. “My name is Syd and I assure you, I mean no one any harm. For reasons unknown myself and a number of... let’s say reformed thieves have stayed in the world of the living even after we left it. But we no longer wish to live hidden, and we do not want to spread fear. Instead, we want to join you all. Be citizens, like the rest of you.”

Kolith smiled as the townspeople listened, enraptured by the presence of a genteel ghost.

“Do you really think this is going to work?” Gary asked.

“It’s time,” Kolith said. “When they understand the people that these ghosts really are, it will work. But this may be the first place ever that’s a literal ghost town where living people coexist as well.”

“Hmm... that’s a good marketing angle,” Gary said. “We could corner the market on haunted, but not deadly, towns!”

Kolith slapped Gary on the back. “Now that’s some out of the box thinking.”

Total Word Count: 10,040