Friday, April 26, 2019

The Commission in the Woods - An Adventurer Story

Left right, left right, the music makes him sway as he moves through the forest. His earbuds snug in his ears pulsing his friend’s dance mix, the beat and harmonies giving him a soundtrack as he stalked silently through the woods. It created an aural cocoon around him, making the forest around him feel more foreboding. Sweat trickled down his back, adrenalin and fear warring against his focus and determination to focus on the music. Left right, left right, his shoulders swayed, his steps almost a dance as he moved to the music only he could hear.




He followed the old deer trail deeper into the wood, shifting his backpack and the precious weight cradled within settled against his lower back. He gently stepped around fallen branches and puddles from the recent rain. The forest smelled rich and alive, the ancient trees towering overhead holding the sweet scent of the rains. He marveled how not being able to hear the forest made it’s smells so much more apparent. He hoped his other senses would be as enhanced. At the thought, he adjusted the backpack again.
He had taken the commission from the little village after spending a couple days enjoying their little inn and gathering information from the townsfolks. Rumors had led him this way and talk about bandits and other dangers in the nearby woods. The townsfolks had been weary at first, but had slowly warmed up and when the town’s headman had approached him with the job he was very eager to accept it. He made his living traveling the back country, the little villages the highways had left behind and the world had forgotten about. He chased the tall tales and whispered warnings passed around truck stops, the right antique stores, and certain book stores that you had to know about to find. It was a thrilling life, and this job promised to be one of the more interesting.
He walked down the trail and rounded a curve, where he saw the gnarled old oak he was told to go to. He circled it twice and confirmed it was the one he sought. The villagers had described it in detail and, with a nod, he lowered his backpack to the ground and tucked it against the roots. With a flick of his finger, he turned the volume of his music up. The dance mix filled his head, its high energy and drowning bass lines shutting the outside world out. He began to dance.
Left, right, left, right, he swayed and moved, his feet stomping and sliding and his hands in movement, chasing the beautiful music in his head. He danced around the tree and, as he did, he pulled his clothing off piece by piece. His skin goose-fleshed in the chill forest air, but it felt refreshing to the man. His fear had coated him with a slick-sweat feeling, and it was a relief to feel the mists of the forest air cleanse him. He danced hard, but never let the earbuds come loose.
He missed a step as the howl crashed around him. He felt it instead of heard it, a fist of ice pressed into his chest. He was thankful for his music even more, knowing that howl would have at best paralyzed him. At worse, it would have killed him instantly. He made himself focus on the music and continue his dancing, his naked form moving around the tree once more. He felt the howl again, but this time he smiled, resolute to dance through it.
as he rounded the tree, he saw her. Her black hair was long and braided, hanging over her shoulder in an old style. Her clothing was scraps and leaves and moss, elegant and primal all at once. She was beautiful, or would be if her face wasn’t screwed up in confusion. She stood just beyond the little clearing around the old oak, well outside of the ring he had danced around it. She looked confused, but wasn’t rushing in, so he took that as a good sign. He slowly stopped his dancing and held up a hand, in what was universally recognized as hi, wait, and please don’t attack my naked ass. He had rolled the dice on going nude. Most non-humans look at clothing as a frivolous affectation on humans, and his previous interacts had given him the idea
Her confusion remained, but she slowly lowered herself to a squat, watching him intently. The tension in her radiated out, coiled muscle ready to launch her at him. He could see the long, sharp nails of her hands even in the dim forest light.
He leaned down to his backpack and, slowly and gently, pulled a batterend notepad off of where it hung from the outside. The stub of a pencil poked from the spiral rings that ran across the top. He very slowly wrote on a blank page and turned it so she could read it if she wish. She hesitated, then stepped closer, eyes squinting to read in the gloom. He had heard her eyesight was sharp in the dark, and rumor didn’t disappoint as he saw her eyerbrows lift in surprise.

Hello and greetings. May we converse like this?

Her eyes darted across the words repeatedly before she looked up at him and, haltingly, nodded. He slowly turned the paper to write again.

My apologies for the intrusion into your home, and even greater apologies for my state of undress. I wanted to ensure you saw that I carried no weapon and wore no wardings or protections. I only wish to speak, and, if you permit, convey a message from the local village of Banyard’s Rill.

He turned the paper to her and watched as she more quickly read this time. Her confusion grew even more apparent on her face, but some of the hostility bled out. She met his eye and nodded again.

He turned his paper once again and wrote.

The people of the village have had a hard time. Bandits and other dangers have, for generations, plagued their little town and the townspeople have suffered it without any success in changing their fates. This is their home, and those that remain are a proud people who refuse to leave it.

I have been hired to seek you out on their behalf. With me, I carry their thanks and I bring gifts of gratitude and appreciation.

He turned the pad once again, letting her read his words. Her eyebrows shot up and her confusion grew even more pronounced. She gestured to the pad, mouthing the word. “Why?”

He wrote again.

When you moved into these woods, you chased out the bandits. The other dangers that stalked the night fled your new domain. You have kept to solitude and offered them no harm and demanded no tribute. You have greatly improved their lives, simply by being the neighbor they did not know they desperately needed. The Townspeople have hired me to act as their messenger, to carry their thanks because they feared they would fail to know how to approach you safely and with due respect.


He waited for her to finish reading and meet his eyes again. He noted that they were misty, and that her lips were pursed with emotion. The tension in her body was gone, as was all sense of threat. He slowly gestured to his backpack. She nodded slowly, little delicate dips of her chin as if she might shatter if she moved too quickly.

He stepped lightly and reached down to open his pack, lifting out the clothe bundle they he had carefully wrapped the gifts in. He lowered himself to his knees and unwrapped the cloth, spreading it so that it served as a tableau. On it sat a motely assortment of things. A loaf of spiced bread, with raisins peeking out. A carved bone comb. A corn-husk doll crafted to look, he believed, like her. A small silver key. He gestured to the goods and stepped back. She tentatively stepped forward and gently looked over the gifts. Her hands picked up the comb and run a tip along the smooth bone, she turned the doll in her hands and the tear rolled down her cheek and she slowly lowered it back to the cloth. The bread she picked up, tearing a hunk and offering it to the man. He bowed, and happily took the piece, popping it into his mouth and savoring its taste before swallowing. He knows this was practicality, fear of poisons or other harms a very real threat to one such as she. But he also saw it for what it could be, breaking bread with a guest. She watched him swallow the bite and a smile lit her fine and not-quite-human features.


She held up the key and raised an eyebrow. Again, his pad talked for him.

The townsfolks have a small house, just outside of the village limits. Its sparse, but solidly built, and it has a lovely bathtub in it. The townsfolks believe you prefer the forest, but I shared with them that you may enjoy someplace to enjoy a hot bath, a roof from the snows, and a mirror to comb your hair by. They were eager to see it so used, and they will extend you all privacies you would wish.

As she read, her smile spread further and the tears flowed freely. She began to gesture, then her eyes darted down his body and she blushed, really noticing his nudity for real this time. He gently reached down and pulled on his shorts. As he finished partially dressing, she gestured again. And he happily gave her the hug she asked for, her tears hot against his shoulder and her nails delicately against the skin of his back. He held her for an untold time, and as he did, the earbuds went silent, the playlist exhausted. He waited till she broke the embrace and gently reached up to remove the buds. He offered her a smile as he did so, and she returned it, a finger pressed over her lips.


With another bow, he said “May the Lady keep and protect you, and may you find peace and love in this new home. I need return to the village to inform them my task is done, so I will ask your leave to go.” She nodded vigorously, already turning back to the loaf of spiced bread. With another short bow, he quickly dressed and began walking down the path back to the village. He whistled a pleasant tune as he walked, pleased with another adventure successfully completed and looking forward to making his report to the towns headman.

No comments:

Post a Comment