An Old Legend

I've often heard the old men in the bars complain about that day in their drunken stupor, slumped over a half-drunk mug, not caring about who or what may hear them. I find myself pitying these men. Many once had a great fire burning in their hearts and a bright line shining in their eyes, as all men do at some point. But not everyone can live this life at the edge. The goal of serving humanity can only keep their will burning for so long. Over many years at the fringes of sanity, faced with things no man should ever face, bathed in the presence of the serpent for far too long, all minds begin to break down. Now they sit here, many of them having forgotten wives or children left back in the realm of decency, washing down their experiences, hoping that the next barrel that gets cracked open was accidentally poisoned during production again. I pity these men, but there is always a part of me that looks at them with fear. This is where everyone ends up in the end. I am not special.

I sighed to myself, tired of mulling over the lives of others and the inevitability of the future, and stood up, leaving a few coins on the table. The coins here aren't made of metal. It's a rare enough resource as is out here, and what there is goes into making or repairing our weapons. Instead, these coins are carved out of wood. Effectively, it works off an honor system, which does have obvious flaws which crop up every now and then, but people generally don't care enough to go looking for large enough scraps of wood to make their own coins. It's usually younger hunters, the name given to the people in our line of work, who choose to cheat the system, having yet to realize how truly little there is worth buying.

The rain outside continued as always. Sometimes it poured down in sheets, but usually it was just a miserable drizzle. In the nearly six months I was there, I couldn't remember a time when the rain stopped for more than a few minutes at a time. Right now, it was back to its usual drizzle. I flipped my cloak's hood up and started for the door.

"Hold on a minute," a voice called from behind me. I stopped and turned to face the barkeep that called out to me. My cold and slightly irritated stare indicated that I was listening and that he should start speaking soon before I walk out.

"Have you heard about what happened yet? Over at the fort?"

"Did something strong come crawling out again? I'm sure it was nothing they couldn't handle."

Such things had happened before, an especially strong critter claws its way out of the night and gives the men tasked with holding the fort hell for a night. However, with the number of hunters stationed there, they were always able to put such things down by morning.

When I said this, I noticed a change in the atmosphere of the room. The air froze and the quiet conversations all seemed to be just a bit quieter or gone altogether. A few of the men looked at me with disdain.

"You just got back so I suppose you wouldn't know. The fort was overrun last night. A few survivors made it into town earlier with the news. Poor young men ran for hours to get here. One dropped dead shortly after they shared the news, and the other two are at the hospital. We've been given the evacuate order."

"I've told them for years that we needed walls on this place for when that damn fort got taken out, and none of those old men took me seriously. Now look where we are." One of the patrons spoke up, getting a few murmurs in agreement in response.

"When do they want us to evacuate by?" I ignored the complainer. Resources and money were tight. The only thing that could be relied on out here was the strength of the people tasked with defense. If that's not enough, we don't deserve to hold out.

"End of the day tomorrow, but most people seem to be leaving today, trying to make it down to Aarkile before nightfall. Or at least, those that want to leave are going. I suggest you pack up and get out of here before too long. Maybe you can tag along with the Cleaners when they sweep through here in a few weeks."

It always happened with the loss of forts. The city they protected was swiftly evacuated, with the only people left those who chose to fight or those too drunk to care. Then once the city was lost, all those who remained slaughtered in the streets, with mindless beasts swarming the roads and alleys, the Cleaners would roll through. This group was comprised of the best fighters and Clergy from various cities. The beasts would be eliminated, and their bodies burned along with any of the people who didn't make it out. They would then continue to the fort and take out whatever strong thing had decided to call it home. Within a few weeks after that, with constant patrols and surveillance of the Cleaners, everything would return to normal, fresh faces would be assigned to the fort and city, and the cleanup crew would leave. This happened in a cycle, but no one seemed to have any interest in making it stop anymore.

"I'll be sure to keep that in mind."

I turned and once again made for the door, this time unbothered.

"As long as you know."

I stopped briefly at the door and chuckled softly before walking out.