Hmmm....
"God dammit!" I cried, leaning forward and slamming my fist against the table. "What the hell do these guys want? I gave them all I had to get them off my back, and now they want more? It's unreal!” My companion only looked back at me with a blank stare. I continued to rant for a few more minutes. "But you understand me, don’t you? You know my pain and strife". I looked to my companion for acknowledgement, but I still received the same blank stare. I felt some anger towards this person I had met only a few hours before. What right did he have to sit and say nothing after I had been pouring myself out to him for the past couple of hours? "Hey crap for brains!! Listen to me!!! I’ll throw this chair at you!". but I still recieved that eerie blank stare. I got up and walked around the table and looked at my companion. He was still staring at where i was sitting. I waved my hand in front of his face a few times. "hello? you there? anybody home?". i reached over with my hand and tapped his skull, which promptly fell off of his shoulders. 'well,' i thought to myself, 'that accounts for the blank stare'. I stood up and went to the bar. THe bar was made of an old thick piece of mahogany, Weathered form age, but you could tell that a lot of work went into crafting it. From the scrollwork on the edges to the latticework on the ends, it was wonderfully constructed. the only thing marring this piece of work was the limp torso of the barkeep lying on one end. I looked up and the rest of him was lying where the bottles of liquor should have been. "hey! what does a body have to do to get some service around here?" i asked the head of the barkeep which was hanging from the fan slowly turning above the bar. i wasnt really surprised when he didnt answer.
I turned around and surveyed the barroom. aparrently, somebody had been either very drunk or very mad. As i panned my view from one corner of the room to the other, i saw a body without an arm here, a body missing a head there, another that was only the torso, a few slumped over teh table, it was obvious that somethign strange was going on. So i walked around to a torso and kicked it. nothing happened. i shrugged. i picked up a dismembered head and questioned, "hey, what happened here?". the only response i got was its jaw falling off where it had been severed. i tossed it aside and strode upstairs. MY feet made sucking noises as i walked up the slick stairs. the seemed to be covered in a slimy red substance that i couldnt quite place. oh well. i'll figure it out eventually. At the top of the stairs, there was a hallway that led off to the right. I decided to try my luck there and headed that way. The hall was cramped, as my head was brushing the cieling, i had to stoop slightly to walk comfortably. As i walked down the hallway, i heard a whimpering from behind a potted plant. Sudddenly, a short, badly beaten person stood up quickly and started backing away slowly. "ohgodohgodohgodpleasedontkillmeimsorryididntmeanitpleasedontkillmeohgodohgodohgod," he said. And with that, he turned and fled down the end of the hallway. I pursued him as fast as i could. He kept looking over his shoulder, screaming, as if something was trying to kill him. he turned a corner and i reached it just in time to see him jump out a window. 'hmm,' i thought, 'i wonder if pigs really can fly?'.
* * * *
The man slowly raised himself to his feet and brushed himself off. He shook his head to clear it and looked up to where he had leapt through the window. “Blimey! That must have been at least 20 feet! I coulda’ been killed!” he cried. He didn’t notice the unsaddled bone white horse standing by the side of the bar. Nor did he notice the tall figure standing behind him. He turned around saying, “Well, that was a lucky break then eh?” YES, I BELIEVE IT WAS YOUR NECK, came the reply from a 7 foot tall hooded figure who just so happened to be carrying a scythe with a blade so fine that you could barely tell that it was there at all. “What do you mean?” questioned the man. The figure just rolled his eyes (if a skeleton could roll its eyes) and pointed to a lifeless body on the ground, with the neck twisted at a funny angle. “Oh. So what happens now then?” YOU GET TO SEE WHATS ON THE OTHER SIDE. And the shade of the man dissipated. Death climbed up onto his horse and wondered why people found reasons to give him more work on full moons.
* * * *
I decided that this place was of no more use to me. And so i elected to leave and continue my search elsewhere. As i left and retreated back down the hall, i noticed that i didnt have to stoop as much to walk. And bythe end of the hall, i was walking completely upright. I headed to the door of the bar. Once there, i turned once more to look at the once lively barroom. There were overturned tables and dismembered corpses everywhere. i could only wonder what sort of miracle had kept me from being added to the pile of still fresh corpses on the floor, tables, and cieling fans. i shrugged and walked out the door into the cool night air. All i had were the tattered rags on my back. obviously, i was lucky to have escaped with my life. I started walking with no real purpose, save for the fact that i knew that somewhere, there was someone who had everything i owned, and i wanted it back. It was clear to me that this person was not at the bar, otherwise, i would have my things. I'm not sure how that thought coalesced in my brain, but it did. I headed down the main avenue towards the horizon where the moon was setting. 'full moon tonight,' i thought, 'why do the strangest things happen on nights like this?'. And so, i continued my walk, absentmindedly scratching at the back of my ears.
I headed down a few more streets wondering where I could possibly go to find something, anything. I had trouble remembering anything before yelling at a corpse in the bar. The most I could come up with was a name, and not even that. It was too vague to be of an real help though. ‘Saffron’ I thought, ‘what the hell does a yellow spice have to do with getting my things back?” I pondered this for a few moments, shook my head to clear my thoughts and started walking again. Luckily I came across no more corpses. The sun began to rise and my brain was telling me that I needed sleep. No wonder, I had stayed up the whole night, it was surprising that I hadn’t collapsed yet. Unfortunately, the bar I was in was also this town’s only inn. I didn’t think I had much of a chance of getting a room there without many questions being asked. So, I found my way to an empty stable, and fell asleep in the hay.
* * * *
I was awakened by a stabbing pain in my side. I rolled over to get away from the pain, but instead I felt something slide slightly into the side of my body. My eyes shot open as I sat bolt upright. I frantically searched for the source of the pain and saw an agitated farmer prodding me with a pitchfork. “’ey you.” he called, “Get out o’ dere. I don’t want ye te be sleeping in my hay. No siree. Too many strange t’ings happening ‘round here to have strangers in my stable.” It was all i could do to suppress a snarl. I extracted myself from the pitchfork, noting that only a slight amount of blood was drawn. Still wary of the middle aged man, I asked “what time Is it?” “I’ll tell ye if it be a good way to make ye git on yer way. It do be around noonday. Now git going.” He replied. I hurried out of the stable massaging my side, eager to get away from the strange old man and his pitchfork. And why did I have this strange urge to turn around and go for his throat?
The town square was abuzz with talk of strange goings on during the previous night. Nobody was sure what had happened, but everyone had their musings. I had since changed my clothes from the previous night, the farmer being kind enough to hurl a bundle of clothes at me when I wasn’t looking. Once again I had to suppress the urge to rip his throat out. I bleneded into the crowd well and I heard many different accounts of the previous night. They ranged from an 8 foot tall goat clopping in and trying to devour the place, to a horde of angry cannibalistic dwarves out on a foraging mission, to a werewolf. This last story was laughed off as not having any merit, because everyone knows that there is no such thing as werewolves. Tanjoubi, the bartender and inkeeper was a respected person in the town and everyoen was saddened at the loss. But this loss did nothing to decrease the fear that was now in full force. Everyone was fearing for their lives. Fearing that maybe the next night the beast or beasts or whatever, would be back. Nobody seemed to notice that there was a full moon last night. Eventually, a search party was formed to try and hunt down the party responsible for this. I eagerly signed up, hoping that in finding whoever did this, I would then find all of my possessions. It was then that I noticed some people trying to look inconspicuous behind a building.
