Page 26 - Mad Shadows II

Widow’s Fell was etched in shadow as I passed through on
my way to Glacken. The village was quiet, too, with nary a
saint or sinner to be seen.

Riding down the main street, I saw Sergeant Thims talking
to another disabled Muthologian, this one a centaur who was
missing all four of his legs. The centaur sported a scraggly gray
mane and was strapped to a four-wheeled cart that was low
enough to the ground so he could push himself with his hands
to wherever he wanted to go. A double-bladed war axe hung
from the side of the cart. His face and arms were crisscrossed
with scars, and he wore a torn, stained and dirty tunic that
barely covered his human torso. He also looked to be a few
flagons shy of having guzzled a full barrel of grog.

I reined in my horse but remained mounted. Thims saw me
and shook his head.

“I thought you’d be gone by now,” he said.
I saw no reason to lie to him. “I’ve some business in
Glacken, first.”
He gave me a wary look. “Glacken? Are you soft in the
noggin? That village is no place to be after dark. It’s a cursed
and haunted area. It’s shunned by everyone.”
“By me old mare’s blessed rump, there’s far more than just
curses and ghosts a hauntin’ that place,” the drunken centaur
informed me. “With me own eyes I once seen devils and
demons lurking about in them black ruins.”
“You’ve seen nothing but the inside of a mug of ale for the
past three days, Jaltz,” Thims told him. “Now go on home to
your wife before she comes looking for you again.”
“But I seen ’em, I tell you!” The halfling tapped the side of
his nose. “Old Jaltz knows. He knows what he’s talking about.”
“You heard me. Go home or I’ll toss you in the hole until
your wife decides if she wants you back or not.”
“I know what I know,” said Jaltz, pushing his cart down the
street. “I seen what I seen.”

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