Hermits Cabin

All this, slaughtering a man for what, a book? Its stupid, why couldn’t the people just read the book as I have, thought a small boy. Looking out from his bedroom window, he was watching the people of Bowerstone slums massacring Temmins the greatest bard ever to exist, but with this day, his name would be forgotten or corrupted to the very least. The people ripped the bards clothes off, then whipping him, punching him, abusing him, slashing him, not even the guards stopped this evil, they joined in, laughs and shouts could be heard and cries from the bard Temmins.

“Bastard!” shouted a child, from below. Unbelievable thought the boy watching from the room, they were allowing children to watch this cruelty. And Temmins his only crime was writing a book about Akrel or Arkel as Temmins called him, Albions hero, apparently by Temmins word Akrel was a murderer and not as good as we once believed, people did not want to believe the mad poet so they tortured him for writing it.

The boy turned away from the window in sickness, a man was urinating on the bard, the small boy watching started weeping as the people dragged Temmins to a pile of lumber, they threw him upon it and set fire to the wood, burning alive! How could humans do such a thing, Temmins was screaming now, his skin burning from its bone, flesh, blood, fire could be smelt.

The boy ran from the window and jumped to his bed quietly crying for his hero Temmins, he looked to the book ‘White Wolf’ the best book ever written, and it would not survive the day. The people searched every house, looking for copies of the books, but the boy had hidden his when they done so.

In so the last copy of the book was his, he heard quietness from the town now, Temmins was dead.

This town surely deserved revenge for the poet, the boy in depression began to read the book to cheer himself up.

Let me tell you a tale, a tale of a man. Falsely idolised by the masses for things he had not done, believed to be a hero, but he was not, he was just a man, and I am the one, the only one to know the truth. When I was young, I sought fame, I had nothing on my mind at all, but for me to be great, to be a great poet I cared not for anyone but myself, but now I am old, and have nothing left to achieve, but to tell you this story of a man, whom I looked for when I was a lad.

I was searching for the great ranger, Akrel, nobody ever seen him, so naturally the first person to see him would be famous. But I wanted more than cheap rumours, I wanted an interview with a shadow, everyone knew the stories, bandits bodies lying in a pool of their own blood, with no-one around. They say the woods are dangerous, but for bodies to be left to rot, is far from a hobbe attacking you.

At the beginning of my search I was at the age of twenty, a man, yet still a boy in the eyes of the old, I was a failing poet, desperate for fame, and some work that would be appreciated. For all my life I heard tales of a brave ranger, guarding the forests from evil but nobody ever met this man, that kept the beasts of Greatwood, and Darkwood at bay. Anxious to meet this ranger I packed my things and headed down south to Oakvale, I heard strange tales of late down that way, perhaps it could give a clue to Akrel. I travelled with a group of traders through the lands, and the great trader path watched over by the guards of Albion we headed south forever south until we seen the town of peaceful tranquillity.

After a few days of travelling we were in the south of the land and near the end of my trip, we reached the borders of Darkwood, a horrible place, not one bit of life worth living in there, yet the ranger lived there, why? Why would someone, willingly live in such a dark, tormenting place? If I was ever to meet him, I would indeed have a lot of questions.

There it was Oakvale, upon seeing it my heart plummeted the place was near enough as horrible as Darkwood, the sky black, and pouring down a storm, rain, thunder, and mist were about.

The town was empty, no surprise as it was late in the night. I headed to the tavern. Once I walked in I seen the pub was empty all except the barmaid and the tavern keeper, and man in the corner of the pub near naked with just a cloth quilt around him, he was shivering, his face, was awful, his skin pale white, like he’d seen something troubling.

I walked over to him, and sat, he seemed to glare at me when I sat down, the man started moving his hand over to me he felt my face with his cold hand. suddenly the crazed man jumped on me, grabbing the collars of my coat, harshly, pouring forth words “look!… look at me!!! The bitch my eyes!, uh, grhh she… she was dead, hair white as moon!!!, bitch!!! Cold now.” he screamed right in my face, his spit from his rushed words crashed on my face.

I jumped back, falling from the seat, I looked back at him, at his eyes, they were dreadful, and blanc pure white, no pupils were there, not even glazed over, but gone! His sight was gone, he was blind.

I shuffled backwards, in fear of his eyes, I looked at the barmaid, sitting at a table she had blonde hair tied in a knot and a flimsy dress, I got up and walked to her. “what’s wrong with that man?” I asked her, as I sat down next to her.

“I’m not sure, he’s been this way since, this morning, one of the guards found him on the outskirts of Darkwood, he brought him here, we are to take care of em it seems” she said depressingly.

I looked back at the man, and rose from my seat, walked over to the seat I had before beside him. “what happened to you” I said calmly. He looked towards the noise, and at me.

“old woman!!! She…she!” the man stopped speaking and dropped his head into the table, sobbing, and whimpering like a baby. I looked over to the barmaid, she shrugged her shoulders, “barmaid get this man a drink….of water” I told her, she went to the bar, when the man crying shouted “no!!! wine, ale! Anything just make it strong!! Please” he moaned and begged, still with tears streaming down his face.

After a couple of drinks the man seemed to calm down, although he was exceedingly drunk, now instead of cries, he told slurs. I looked at him, he was downing whisky as if it was water. “she, was in Darkwood she came to me, when I was asleep she.” the drunkard, was cut off by myself “why were you sleeping in Darkwood?” I asked.

“it was a late night, id been travelling for weeks, I needed sleep, so I found a secluded spot, in the bushes, and went asleep, I didn’t struggle to sleep, beggars cant be picky can they eh. When… when I was asleep, I heard a voice, the voice said ‘I'm sorry’ and then it was gone. Later on, total silence, like there was nothing in the forest but me. I’m not sure if I was asleep, it seemed like a limbo state, between sleep and awareness, I looked down at myself and I was suddenly bare-skinned, my clothes stripped, I was naked.

Soon after that footsteps, and blue particles in the air, a mist formed, the sky went and ethereal green I could hear screams, cries. The entire earth seemed to heat and burn. Then a flash of dark purple eyes in front of me. I felt pain with the seeing the eyes, pain…never experienced before” he told the tavern, the tavern keeper, the barmaid, and myself, were all gathered around him, listening to him, “is that all you remember” the barmaid asked him. “no, after the flash, I seen a woman, sitting atop of me, she was… old an..and her hair was pure white, skin grey as storm clouds, her eyes were deep dark purple with strains of red, she was naked and sweating. I looked down and seen a disturbing thing, the old bitch was fucking me! I could feel her wrinkles, her skin, her sweat on me, so cold… she was laughing it was chilling, a cold dread run down my spine hearing her, I cried hearing her, her laughter, her moans, her pleasure and my torture.” he stopped and his head was again dropped, to the table, crying.

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The next morning, I awoke to find the peaceful town I had set out looking for, the storm had passed, we had a peaceful tranquillity but it came with a price, the crying man who had kept the whole tavern up all night, was dead. I went to bed shortly after he told his living nightmare, and hoped to get some sleep, but I wouldn’t until the end of the night, the man kept crying and screaming through the night, I could hear him, finally when I gave up trying to sleep it was dawn. And the man had stopped crying, I went down to investigate, although now I wish that I hadn’t, as I walked down the stairs, I seen the barmaid, entrusted with the job to look over the weeping man, she was asleep.

I looked for the man, and found him outside, behind the tavern, I first seen the shadow, of a body hung in mid air, then him, he had hung himself, a rope tied to a tree and to his neck, poor soul I thought. When I seen it, I did not jump, not cry, for I knew the man was at least better off, and happier where ever he was now, was not my concern.

I went to leave when I heard a voice, “I’ve spoken to the town crier, he say this makes excellent news ‘The succubus of Darkwood’ he called it.” said a man coming from the shadows, it was the tavern keeper, I smiled politely at him. As I walk of to the port, I thought about it for a second, I was searching for a man who lived in the forest, yet stories led me to a woman, I looked at the sea, the most basic and calming thing to see in this land I always looked at it, It enchanted me, I get lost in the glare of the sun from the sea.

A man walked over to me, he was young, dressed in scruffy cloths, dirtied from the stink of fish. “yer, hear that! The forest…” he said to me in a put on gruff voice. I looked to the forest, to Darkwood, it spooked me to just look at it, but there was a sound coming from it, soothing, it was music, so relaxing, “that’s a guitar, if I’m not mistaken, yer hear that sound every now and then, you ever hear about the pilgrim of east?” he asked me, “no never” I said quietly, with my head still aimed at the forest.

A pilgrim, a musical pilgrim, in the forest, strange who would play music in the forest? I wondered could it be him? It was the first sign, I thought. I walked back to the tavern, and seen the body was gone, I strolled over to were it had been, and seen the innkeeper burying the man, he seen me, and nodded, I so to.

I walked back to my room within the tavern, hoping to get rest, perhaps now things had settled I could sleep.