After an hour of charging further into the distance, we'd stop, and as we rested, Mick would turn around to face me.
"So big guy, what's your task?" he asked as I pulled the scroll out from my pockets to take a look once more.
I was specifically tasked with hunting down a group of Wyrms. These creatures-- often related to dragons with how similar their biology is-- are smaller, yet still as dangerous flying monsters. The quest details that these specific flock of wyrms were not only more aggressive than usual, but they also seemed to be leaving more elemental damage than usual. I was to take down the flock of wyrms and take a claw from each as confirmation.
It was after I had read out the quest that I had come to the sudden realization that this was going to be my first monster hunt. The stories that I had read as a child were about to come true. A wave of nervousness may have washed over my body, but among that flood was a droplet of excitement.
Looking up from the scroll, I turned to look at Mick, who seemed to be keeping himself busy drinking from a leather bag filled with water. "How about you?" I asked, showing equal curiosity to what he was assigned with.
"Nah, I'll tell you when we're done with yours." he responded with a slight grin.
"But what if our quests are near each other? We could-"
"Ey, big man-" He raised a hand to stop me. "Worrying too much about it will only raise questions that'll lead to a bit of anxiety. Worry about your quest first, then we can skedaddle to mine." he continues.
From the looks of things, Mick just wanted to ride along for the journey for now. At least that's what I'm assuming. However, a slight feeling of guilt and anxiousness still wallow at the back of my mind. As I breathed and weighed my choices, I ultimately decided to heed Mick's advice and roll with the punches for now.
The quest specifies that the Wyrms last entered a cave within one of the mountains in Dragonclaw. Unfortunately, this mountainous region is practically a maze of cliffs, valleys, and canyons. Alongside the treacherous terrain would be the dangerous weather around the mountains. With strong winds and biting cold, walking in there unprepared is a death sentence.
However, from the books I've read, no monsters willingly choose to live within the mountainous terrain of Dragonclaw. Some Vael researchers mention how the cold was just too much for flying monsters and the local area is too barren for food or safety. Having any monster-- let alone a flock of them-- choose to stay within Dragonclaw is already a strange occurrence. So not only were we faced with unnatural odds, but we were also at a disadvantage for information.
As such, we decided that within the first couple days of travel, we would venture into Hollowmouth, one of the House Adamant villages found closest to the foot of Dragonclaw Mountains.
"I'm going to try and talk to some people and hopefully someone knows what and where those Wyrms are." Mick clarified.
"What are the chances the people from Hollow know this?"
"Honestly? It's a shot in the dark but you miss every shot you don't take after all."
It took us the better part of the day to reach House Adamant territory. However, with Mick's help, the journey was shorter than expected. He knew routes through the forests that avoided any trouble as we navigated the overgrown roots and vines with an ease that made it feel as though we had lived there for years. As we traveled, I noticed a significant absence of dangerous wildlife in the forests as we approached Adamant. It felt as if all danger had been eradicated.
As we broke through the tree line and approached the clearing ahead, it was now obvious as to why Adamant seemed safer than it was. Surrounding the tree line were towers made with black stone and metal. These stood taller than the whole canopy and were spread out evenly to cover much ground. We couldn't see what was inside of these towers but we knew from the slight feeling of fear the creeps up at the back of your neck that these towers should not be underestimated.
As I continued to admire the intimidating aura of these constructs, Mick muttered something as we walked along, but because of the noise of the caravans passing by, I couldn't hear much of it.
"Did you say something Mick?" I looked over, wondering if something was troubling him.
"...Nothing. I was just saying we need to keep going. Down the road and left at the crossing is Hollowmouth." he speaks in reassurance.
However, my instincts tell me that his smile was a mask for something. Whatever it was, I decided to let it go. For now.
Upon arriving at Hollowmouth, we were greeted by wooden palisades with a gate guarded by two heavily armed guards. Unlike the guards at Coppergate, they seemed to be wearing thicker armor with weaponry to match. The metals seemed to be in a darker tone, and there was less decoration apart from the House Adamant symbol carved into the chest plate. However, I remained unsurprised at the amount of defense Adamant had, as it was their specialty after all. Although one could mistake their specialty for paranoia with the number of questions we were greeted with. We had to show our quest seals to confirm our travel was from Coppergate and that we were students of Solus before we were allowed to enter the village.
Passing through the gates, Hollowmouth had a completely different ambiance from the outside. It was strangely more welcoming. The people had warm smiles and were going about their day with work and play. Children were running about, and the adults were talking amongst themselves. It seemed peaceful, yet it was quite a stark contrast from the city of Coppergate.
Although as I continued to look around, some buildings were under construction and amongst this construction, I noticed some debris. They seemed to be remains of a charred house. The grey stones that lined the ground under it suggests this happened a few days ago. Nothing was left inside except a handful of cut flowers resting alongside what seemed to be a burnt red string.
Mick seemed to have spotted the same thing I had as he nudged me with his shoulder and pointed towards one of the ruins.
"Look familiar?" he asked in a hushed tone as I witnessed a house buried and frozen in growths of crystalline earth. Frozen Enesial that broke apart the household from the inside. Some spikes still held that familiar shade of red along the edges of their chaotic form.
This type of destruction was everywhere in the village. Houses were frozen solid, and stalls and wagons were blown against the wall. A section of the palisade remained in ruins, with scorch, claw, and bite marks visible along the logs that were used for defense.
Mick and I looked at each other in silence before we walked towards the center of town, where the temple might be. It was our best bet and most common start to find the village leader, or at least anyone who knows a lot of what happened during this assumed raid.
Approaching the large stone church, a crowd had gathered in front, with a man well into his age standing at an elevated position in front of the crowd. We couldn't hear much of what they discussed, but judging from the tone of the people and the distress within the man's expression, he seemed to be attempting to calm the masses.
"People, please! We have to work together at these times!" The man cried out. His arms outstretched towards the people, like a hunter trying to calm an angry animal.
"We can't wait anymore! These attacks have gone on for far too long! We have to do something." One woman in the crowd angrily remarks.
"We need to hunt those things down!"
"No, that's too dangerous! We need to leave!"
The crowd persisted in voicing their concerns, while the elder's gaze flicked around, searching for something-- anything-- that might offer him a glimmer of hope. Then, his eyes fell upon the outsiders.
With a burst of energy, the man would step off the box he stood on and pushed through the crowd just to greet us. His wrinkled hand clasping Mick's in an obvious display of desperation.
"Adventurers! You are adventurers, yes?" he asked, hands shivering in anticipation to what Mick might say.
I had expected Mick to ask questions. I thought he would want to dispel any exaggerated assumptions the villagers might have about us, given the current circumstances. I anticipated the truth would come out of his mouth, but instead--
"Not just adventurers, but heroes! That's what we are here for." Mick replied with a glimmering smile.
The old man looked hopeful, as if Mick's words had been the highlight of his day. I couldn't blame him for feeling that way. In the blink of an eye, we had gone from outsiders to the village's saving grace. The townsfolk were cheering and chanting in response to Mick's promise. This was supposed to be a happy moment, a glorious opportunity for heroics and fame.
But why do I feel uneasy?
It wasn't long until the crowd had dispersed, and Mick was brought inside of the church to speak with the elder about our visit to the village. He wished to clarify a few things about what had happened here and if it really were the Wyrms we were looking for. He also saw this as an opportunity to seek out various supplies for the journey ahead, to "get a deal and see if we don't have to spend coins," as he said. On the other hand, I remained outside to let Mick handle all the social work. I did promise him after all.
As I waited outside, I kept my gaze on the village. As I stared at the various ruins, I couldn't help but be reminded of Greystone. It had been months since I had returned home. I had no news of what could have happened since then.
Have they started rebuilding? Perhaps they chose to move...
How about my father? I bet he is worried sick, but no matter how hard the Vanguard searched, they still couldn't find a trace of him...
Maybe they did rebuild? Has Micah found the heart to forgive me? Has anyone?
As those questions bounced within my head, I took notice of the sound of villagers working away at reconstruction. Smiles are still drawn across their faces. Men and women of Hollowmouth were working away to rebuild what they had lost, yet they also chose to remember who they had lost as well. Although frustrated at the given problem, they still chose to rise up and fight against the tide. Some were even brave enough to suggest hunting down those monsters themselves, and considering the stories I had heard of the Adamant people... they might've.
I couldn't help but smile at this hopeful sight, which served as a reminder of my own growth and the journey I took to carve out my path. I stand here because of that chance I was given. I wasn't able to do something then. Maybe I can make a change now.
I was abruptly pulled from my thoughts by a cold grip around my leg. Looking down, I saw a child, not older than a handful of years, clutching on to this wooden toy of an armored Vanguard soldier holding a shield and pointing their sword up to the sky proudly.
The child would show me the toy before speaking.
"Big and strong, like you! Are you going to fight the big scary birds like a hero?" he asked, his eyes sparkling with innocence as he looked up at me, waiting for a response. I couldn't help but see myself in him—the childlike wonder that comes from hearing tales of heroes. I had once stood in his shoes, after all. I could feel how much he admired me in that moment, how he believed I might be the bravest person he would ever encounter.
I knelt down, trying to be within eye level of the child as much as I physically could.
"Where are your parents, little one?" I asked in a hushed tone, worried that I might scare him.
"Daddy went to fight the big birds! Mummy is over there." He points to a woman within the markets, helping with the reconstruction of a nearby stall. Bandages seemed to be wrapped around her arm and leg, yet she seemed to be fighting through the pain whilst helping haul heavy materials. As my eyes looked over to where he pointed, the boy continued.
"Daddy left last night. He scared off the birds! But he went to chase them. At least that's what mummy told me. So if you are going to fight the big birds too, can you please find daddy and give him this?" he offers the vanguard toy.
"He says it makes anyone much braver and so much stronger!"
I could only look at the toy. As I began to examine it, I noticed one troubling clue: a familiar red tint hidden in the armpit of the toy. It was quite faded, appearing as just a small smudge, but seeing that color triggered my mind to assume the worst. However, I knew I couldn't reveal that to this child. Regardless of what has happened or may have happened, I can only offer him hope, and it begins with what I need to say.
My hand clutches the toy before gently pushing it back to him.
"If it makes anyone holding it the bravest and the strongest, then keep it. I'll go look for your dad, but promise me to be brave and protect yourself and your mom while we are gone, okay?" It was the least I could promise.
The boy lit up with the proudest smile ever before attempting the vanguard salute. The side of their fist pressed up against their heart. I nodded as I sent him along to join his mother.
It was here where I heard the wooden doors open behind me, with Mick and the elder walking out together.
"Ready to ship out?" Mick asked as I nodded in return.