A Most Unusual Find
It was a breezy, overcast day over the Marble Coast. Built around the ruins of an old city was the village of Adthurn, in a remote corner of the empire of Entarca. It was an old and weathered town, backward by some people's standards, but a haven for fishermen and sailors from all over eastern Luscartia. A particular sailor, or privateer by some standards, was known to come to town now and then to pay a visit to the Wayfarers' Tavern. Built from a ship that was washed onshore by a typhoon seventy-five seasons earlier, this is the kind of scenery a treasure hunter would like for the start of an adventure.
"Hey lookie here, Northwind is back! It's been a while, how are things over in Telanidor?"
The grizzled privateer stopped and looked at everyone, sat down at the bar, grabbed an empty mug and said "Fill 'er up! I could use a pint of the usual."
"I guess Telanidor isn't so great then, heh," the barkeep replied, pouring the privateer some fine Luscartian Rum.
"Eh, it's nothing special, and Izkaldan doesn't have a tavern to match this," replied the privateer, receiving the rum from the barkeep. He took an unnaturally large gulp, coughed a couple times and wheezed for a moment.
"Hey, slow down there..."
After a short pause the privateer continued, "Ah, this is the good stuff. Anyway, I met this fine young lady, and I kind of forgot what I was there for."
"Uh oh, that can't be good."
"Hey! Well, you're right I guess. I think I'm losing my touch."
"You're also losing your mind," the barkeep remarked.
The privateer laughed and said, "But I still have my instinct, you see."
"Ah yes, you still seem to have that. Not sure that it's a good thing, but you speak the truth."
The privateer took another gulp of rum. He sighed and looked forward with a blank stare as someone else hobbled through the entrance and sat next to him. It was a young man with unkept brown hair, wrinkled clothes, and a notable faint blue glow coming from his half-open vest pocket.
"To instinct," the privateer said in a humble tone, raising his mug.
"Yes, to instinct," the barkeep replied, having a toast with the weathered privateer and finishing what remained of the bottle.
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After a minute or so, the barkeep inquired to the newcomer, "Hey stranger, what will you have?"
"Oh, that. Uh, I don't know, how is your water?"
"Water? You can probably find better water out there if you're willing to stick your head in the ocean. Here we serve... better, things. Here, you look like you've been through a lot, I'll give you a glass on me because I'm in a good mood."
"Thanks I guess. I already had my head in the ocean, I don't really want to do it again."
"Hm, you're indeed an odd fellow. Don't worry, we get a lot of people like you here. Like Gero, see?"
"Gero?"
The privateer looked up and the barkeep gestured toward him, "Yes, this here is Gero Northwind. May I ask what your name is?"
"Ethan Nighthawk... I'm not from around here as I'm sure you can see."
"Nighthawk? That's an unusual name, where is it from?"
"I don't remember my original name, but that's the name I was given by the people of Zolandor. The nighthawk is important in their lore, and it's apparently an honor to be named after one. I kept the name because they helped me, and frankly I like the sound of it."
Gero sat up, "Zolandor? I remember a Zolandor I think... A colony of outlanders who cut themselves off from the world's troubles?"
Ethan replied, "Yes, I guess that describes them alright."
The barkeep leaned forward with an inquisitive look on his face. "How did you end up here? Zolandor is all the way on the far side of the world!"
Gero interjected, "I'm not sure about that, barkeep. If only there were a willing crew, I'd like to prove that if you go far enough west you can end up in Zolandor."
"That's crazy, you'd find terrible beasts at the edge, where you would fall to your doom! I know that because many have come here saying that they saw the edge for themselves."
"Well then I guess you'll add me to that list someday," Gero replied, winking at the barkeep.
"Instinct... Oh, sorry kid, continue your story."
"Well I couldn't stay in that village, as friendly as the people were. Just not my thing to stay in one place, and I heard of wonders to the north, so I headed up to that kingdom... Uh, Aderon is what they called it. A lot happened there, but to make a long story short, I was forced to leave not long after I arrived. I went through the desert, and more... circumstances came up. I almost didn't make it, but I guess you could say that a monsoon saved me. Anyway, I was compelled to avoid that western kingdom of Forlon. For some reason I knew that I was being followed, and I didn't want to stick around to see by who or why. I went to the most logical destination, that port city, where I was a stowaway on a trader's ship. Something happened and the ship was attacked. I grabbed onto a loose plank and escaped before the ship sank into the depths. I didn't see any attackers, which was weird, but I knew that someone intended to sink that vessel. I floated on the plank for a while and thought I was done for, but then I saw land to the west and started swimming. I came ashore and found this place... And here I am. Pardon me for my appearance and rather grim outlook, but it's been rough lately."
Gero and the barkeep looked at each other blankly. Then Gero noticed something...
"Hey, kid... Mind if I ask what's in your pocket?"
"Oh, this? A stone of some sort that I found in the sand that was washed away by the monsoon. Hm, weird, I haven't seen it do this before."
"Not often do stones glow, lad," the barkeep remarked, looking at the blue stone that Ethan pulled from his pocket.
"Okay kid, I need to get you out of here," said Gero, picking up his hat and moving to the door.
Almost sarcastically, Ethan said under his breath, "And the chase continues."
"Hey Gero! What are you talking about, remember all the rum that you had..." called the barkeep.
Gero turned around and said in a positive tone, with the hint of a smile on his face, "Instinct calls." |
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