Dagger

Prologue "Dee, I would appreciate if you wouldn't empty my shop whenever you're in town," Heist croaked. "Bah... I know you like seeing me around, old man." I laughed, holding up a small sack of coins and giving it a jingle, "Don't you like the business anyhow?" Heist smirks, shooing me away with his hand as I continue to shop. It's a general store, Heist's shop. I'm here for several things that will aid me on the trail westward: several bundles of arrows, an extra bowstring, a second pair of boots, clothes and undergarments, a new journal, plenty of food and drink, and some other miscellaneous items. I'm planning on leaving for awhile, so having a little bit of everything is useful. I bring my items to the counter, Heist marks their prices, and I hand him a small sack. There's a long silence between us as he's counting the coin. "Do you know how long you'll be gone, then?" He inquires. "I'm not sure," I respond. "A few weeks?" "Maybe." "A few months?" I don't answer. He pauses and looks up at me, "Just come back in one piece, boy." The bell on the door jingles and two young children run in with their father following closely behind. Heist greets the customer as I grab my things and step away from the counter. I can't help but linger before closing the door.

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Chapter One The Hewn City

"No, it really is Dagger," I argue, trying to walk past him, "Like the weapon!"

"Alright, alright, I got it," The armored soldier dressed with a gold Lanternlea tabbard steps back and holds up his hand, "Stay put. Take off your pack and set it beside you; I'll have to check it."

I sigh. It's been two days since I've left the comfort of home. Strawford is where I come from, though I don't own a home there; it's more like a base of operations for a man like me. A journeyman. Strawford truly is a wonderful little place that has everything you'd ever need; plenty of farmland, timber, rivers, livestock and wild game... I almost feel bad for leaving once more. Ah yes, the reason for that being... I'm looking for someone. I've actually been looking for several years now, and only recently have I gotten close enough to chase him. His name is Margrave, a smith supposedly located in the western islands of Starwood Strand, Starfall Isles.

"What is your occupation, sir?" The man inquires, looking up from his journal.

"I'm... a bard," I say, though my attire tells a different story. I see him eyeing the sword on my belt, and he reaches out, his palm facing upwards, "Bard, huh?"

I lie again, handing him my sword, "Guard. I said guard." He removes the blade from it's scabbard and inspects the steel. I can tell what he's looking for. My sword, a scimitar, is a rare specimen. Not only is it unusually long and ornate, it's enchanted; something considered a lost art nowadays. He squints at the runic inlays that run along the length of the blade. Not many know to look for something like that and I start to get restless.

"Occupation..." He pauses, and I wait for the inevitable questioning. "Guard. You look like you can handle yourself. Be careful in there," He holds my sword in front of me and I grab it; his grip is tight.

I look up and we lock eyes.

"Watch your back, spellsword. You know what's in there, don't you."

Ah, The Hewn City. Damn right I know what's in there; most people do, but it's more than what meets the eye. Much, much more.





After a bit more walking, I finally enter the outer walls of the city. What's left of the sun before dusk is now gone, well, not that it would be here at noon anyhow.

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Chapter Two The Tangled Wood

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Chapter Three The Riverside Cabin

It's been two weeks since I've laid my eyes upon another person. It's lonely here, and the trail ahead looks the same as the trail behind me... I fear I may get lost in this never-ending span of blah blah blah

What little sunlight makes it's way through the canopy of dark trees enlightens a structure in front of me. It's a cabin of decent size, and it looks like there's a shed of some sort behind it. Smoke billows from the stone chimney, which sits atop a moss-covered roof.

As I get closer, I can hear piping laughter coming within. I became curious.

Almost as if someone had sensed my presence, the chatter turns to a whisper, and I hear the door handle jiggle. I watch the door open, and suddenly I think about how I'm an awkward ways away, loitering a few yards from the porch... like a creep. A young woman, followed by a plume of smoke, pokes her head out the door and spots me.

"Oh!," she gasps, retreating back inside.

I take this chance to turn around and distance myself from the property, only I hear the door open again.

"Weary traveler, are you in need of assistance? Or a meal?" She beckons, "I've got a pot of stew on the spit... surely you're hungry!"

A tempting offer that I just so happen to accept. It's been weeks since I've had a home-cooked meal, and I'm not really one to cook. I trudge over to the porch and she steps out wearing a long, fur cloak. She's quite short and shapely, and her long, curling hair covers the top half of her face.

"Nacelle," She whispers, "I hope you don't mind my company... What do they call you, traveler?"

I step up onto the rickety porch and tell her, "Dagger."





I walk into, recognizably, a coven. Looking around, I see bunches of dried herbs and flowers hanging from the walls, shelves upon shelves of bones, precious gems, candles, and otherwordly knick-knacks. Rugs and pillows are scatter the wooden floor, and the smell of stew draws my eyes towards the kitchen; a large cauldron over a simple stove. I turn to the table next to it, and several pairs of eyes meet my gaze.

I can feel my face redden, and I look to the floor. Most of them are wearing nothing but jewelry and crude wraps. Hell, if I had acres upon acres of land to myself, I'd not worry about clothes either.

Turning to put my bag by the door, Nacelle, the woman at the door, introduces me, "They call him Dagger, so we shall call him Dagger!" She announces, skipping over to the kitchen, and returning with a full bowl.

I stand, sifting through it with my spoon. Rabbit, carrot, and what looks like potato, with an abundance of fine herbs. I take a spoonful. Pleasantly, I'm surprised. I've been looking forward to a true dinner, and here one is... only I'm being watched as I eat. Suddenly, I hear a thud and look up at the table of witches.

"Sit down, Dagger. Tell us about your travels!" One of them orders, banging on the tabletop at the place where I suppose I should sit.

I sit, just as they told me to, and shove another spoonful into my mouth. "I'm on my way to Starfall Isles."

They gasp and whisper amongst themselves, as if I can't hear. And almost expectantly, they explode with questions. Isn't that far? Where did you come from? How long have you been walking? Have you been washing your clothes? Do you hunt? How's the stew? I answer them diligently as I eat, and before I know it, the bowl is empty, and I'm feeling intoxicatingly tired.





I wake in a cold sweat, and find myself feeling lighter than usual. My bandolier, cloak, boots, and gloves are nowhere to be seen and the rest of my things are scattered about the floor. Something is moving about in my pant pocket, and I look down to find one of the women digging around in it, hoping to find something. I grab her hand. She smiles at me.

"He's awake!" she shrieks, and the other girls come about.

"Ah, mister," one pipes up, "it's so kind of you to let us look about your items!"

"W-what? Let? I was sleeping!" I sit up and push my back against the wall, and take a good look at my situation. Oh, would you look at that. There's my boots and gloves... my cloak... my bandolier. Only they're being worn by the curious coven, "Gah, gimme that-" I snatch my sword from grasping hands.

I put both hands to the floor and push myself off of the ground. My head's throbbing, almost foggy, and I stumble away to gather the rest of my items. There are so many things scattered about, and it's hard to tell what's mine. Did I pack this and that? I can't remember... Who cares if it's theirs anyhow, I've got to get out of this cottage.

With big, bright eyes, and a hand over her mouth, Nacelle quickly barricades the door with her body, "Are you leaving? Are you sure you don't want to stay...? We haven't seen travelers for so long now so I thought-"

"No, I'm going." I cut her off, "Bring me the rest of my clothes."

The girls whisper and whine about the horrors of my departure. Who am I to stay anyhow? I've got places I need to be.