Your support makes Blue Moon possible (Patreon)Violet eyes the wreckage around her warily. The path she is on leads to the town of Nastrus, a logging village of some notice. However, the path there had been demolished, trees toppled over onto the path, chunks of land ripped up, and animal, and a few human, carcasses displayed on gruesome wooden constructs. Warnings. The mercenary sighs, glancing at the parchment in her hand. On it, Nastrus was requesting help from any able bodied mercenaries to come and assist them. If it is giants, the woman can understand why the job was passed onto her.
She had received the job from a guild she had worked with before. She was in town, and suddenly the guild leader had sat across from her, and slid the parchment over. Immediately she had known the importance of the job, as the guild leader did not like her in the least. The man detested her and her reputation. So to so easily hand over a possibly well-paying job meant the man had lost friends and guild mates. Which meant the job was extremely dangerous. Thus, why it was given to her.
At least she knew what her enemies were, the woman ponders, jumping on and over debris and continuing on her way. A little roadblock would not deter any true mercenary or warrior, but it would keep kingdom soldiers from coming, and merchants, who would assist the assailed peasants. Such forethought leads to the conclusion that an Elder giant is leading this band. A smirk makes its way to the raven-haired woman’s covered mouth. She wouldn’t be bored.
Eventually the path of destruction ends, resuming to be a normal road with only the wear and tear of time obvious. Her pace slows to a leisure walk, taking in her scenery. Abundant green consumes her vision. A healthy forest, the canopy so thick that even light struggles to break through, and yet small shrubs are clearly visible among the roots of the trees. A sign that nymphs live in this forest. Violet feels her curiosity spike. If nymphs live in these forest, she wonders how they feel about the destruction of their home from Nastrus, who fell far more trees than any nymph would be truly comfortable with. The thought quickly crosses her mind that possibly the giants are doing a favor for the nymphs. It is not uncommon in this day and age for mystical creatures to band together, especially with the way the humans are slowly taking over nearly everything.
Before her thoughts can dwell on the matter any longer, the village comes into sight. Increasing her pace a bit, she reaches the town shortly, and almost whistles. If she didn’t already suspect giants, the damage to the town would a dead giveaway. Toppled buildings and walls, seemingly random holes in roofs, partially caved in buildings, all very typical of a giant’s siege. As she observes the damage to Nastrus, a few men run to meet her.
“Are you a mercenary?” One asks, a younger gentleman by the looks of him. Her uncovered blue eye snaps to him, and the movement causes her hair to shift, revealing her blood red right eye. The eldest of the three men gasps, and Violet knows this man knows of her reputation.
“The Black Blade,” He says on a quiet breath, but Violet ignores him, and focuses on the younger man, nearly boy, now taking a closer look, who’s peering at the elder with confusion.
“I was given this job by the Warrior Guild based in Yashok,” She replies evenly. The man in between the others in terms of age steps forward, fear in his eyes. He apparently also recognized her, she thinks.
“I am the Lord of this village, Ramora, Black Blade. Your reputation,” He pauses here, and swallows, “precedes you. Your as-,”
“I require 200 electrum pieces to compensate for my troubles,” She interrupts, and the three men’s jaws drop in shock. “You have a giant problem,” She smirks, unknown to the three men, at this, “I’m assuming the Warrior Guild representative were already slain, the path was blocked by debris, an elder giant is obviously among them, and I’ve gone far out of my way to fulfill this job.” She explains, and the men turn and begin to converse amongst themselves. Violet’s left eyebrow raises in question.
“We-we cannot pay your price, my lady,” Ramora says, fear causing his voice to shake. She almost rolls her eyes at the man. Her reputation was useful at times, and a burden at others. “We can only afford to give you 150 electrum pieces…” He whispers.
The mercenary looks away, and back at the destroyed village. What remains of her conscious screams at her to do the right thing, to help these people before they’re killed by the giants. She purses her lips, irritated. Just when she thinks it’s gone, it always has to come back and rear its ugly head. She nearly curses, as she turns back to the Lord.
“What else can you offer?”