Terror Comes to Coverley

One of the Myths of Ixonia

A Booth Stage (Artist Unknown)

'Roll up! Roll up! Show starts soon,' a young boy yelled. He paced back and forth along the edge of the stage while a dozen men and women constructed a forest background behind him.

'Been awhile since I seen a show,' Aedir said to himself. He tapped his pipe out on his thigh, the hot ash skittering down his scale armour. He slipped the willow pipe into his belt and approached the boy. Others gathered round the boy, handing over coppers and being directed to a bench.

'How much?' Aedir asked.

'Three coppers. Five coppers gets you a stout as well,' the boy said. As Aedir thought about the boy yelled out that the show would start soon.

'Alright, five copper. Better be a good stout,' Aedir adjusted his sabre and followed the boy's gesture to the front row.

'You'll love it. Rashi, get this man a stout.'

A girl at the edge of the stage bolted off behind the stage to a wagon with its side down and three tapped casks hanging off the edge, each stamped with an unfamiliar brewer's mark.

Aedir took a perch on the front bench beside a burly man with a greatsword strapped to his back, 'You might wanna take that off.'

'Excuse me?' the burly man turned with a growl. His beard reached up to his cheek bones and he had a singular eyebrow.

'You know, the sword. Might block the view for the person behind,' Aedir stretched to his side, trying to pop a bone in his back. The girl appeared with his stout. 'Thank you kindly,' he flicked her a copper. Her smiled beamed as she caught it and ran back to the wagon.

'Huh?' the burly man twisted, his long leather coat creaking. 'I see your meaning,' he unstrapped the greatsword and laid it across his thighs where it looked like a regular arming sword given his size. The blade was polished to a shine, the hilt wrapped in black leather, and the pommel featured a green gemstone, yet the blade itself was nicked and pitted near the base, giving black marks against the shine.

'Pretty sword.' He wondered what brought such a man to the quaint town of Coverley.

The burly man hmph'd.

Aedir filled his pipe with rote ease, he stuffed the dried leaves down with his thumb and clasped the bit between his teeth. There was no fire nearby and he couldn't see a twig to light with a flint so he held the pipe and sipped his stout.

The benches were soon full and actors began peeking out from behind the forest background of the stage. A frelokath took the seat on Aedir's other side, oddly short for his kind but armed with pair of rapiers. Aedir peered around to see if the audience were generally armed but saw only a few others dotted around. Most were regular folks with their children. Perhaps they clustered us up on purpose, he thought.

The boy who'd taken Aedir's coppers strode to centre stage, his arms wide. 'Today you will see a story of magic and mystery, murder and misery of strange folk and distant creatures in a world a little different to our own!' he peered down at Aedir for a moment, then to a woman behind him, and flitted off to the edge where he addressed a young girl. The boy had experience talking to crowds yet was a few years from his first whiskers. Aedir wondered if they boy had been born into the troupe, it wasn't unheard of but usually travelling theatres broke apart due to “creative differences” or “explosive relationships.” For this one to hold itself together long enough to rear and raise children was impressive.

The crowd quietened and the boy darted off backstage. Torches burned either side of the stage and a man, a good hand over six foot, stepped out from amongst the trees of the forest wearing a greatcoat, heavy boots, and a litany of swords, daggers, and knives across his belt. He surveyed the crowd with a strong, clean shaven, jaw. 'Demons infest these woods. Demons from the Rift. Do you know what the Rift is?' he leaned toward a woman in the second row.

She coughed and whispered, 'No.'

'No? I don't suppose it's something to discuss in polite company. The Rift is a place beneath the world, apart from the world, where the sense of things begins to break down, rupture.' His boots creaked as he strode the breadth of the stage in slow measured steps. 'Monsters are born there. Demons. And every so often, one breaks free. If you ever meet an alokath, ask them about the deep secrets of the Everdark, maybe they'll share the terrible secrets with you.'

Aedir chuckled to himself and chewed the bit of his unlit pipe. If he could make it to the torch... Nah, he thought. Better to let the man act without interruption.

'Something funny, warrior?' the chiselled man glared at Aedir, his chin jutting out.

'Only that you think anyone here's going to meet an alokath is all. I could do with a little flame though,' Aedir's voice a soft drawl.

The actor sniggered, 'Indeed. A rare sight those dusk skinned red eyed folk.' He turned back to the crowd, 'I implore you all to be fearful, to run, and most of all leave the demon hunting to me.'

'Oswald! Are you scaring the goodfolk again?' A woman pranced on stage, her ruffled dresses of red and white bouncing with each step.

'Not at all. Merely warning them of the nature of this forest,' Oswald turned to face the pretty blonde. 'We wouldn't want any... accidents,' he brushed her cheek with the back of his fingers.

The woman sighed and turned, doe eyed, to the crowd, 'Oh Oswald, must you leave?'

Aedir folded his arms, stout in one hand, pipe in the other, and stretched out his legs. It was one of those plays. A romance, a monster, and probably a hero saving his love. A tried and true tale for the ages that many couldn't get enough of and all power to them but for Aedir it was over done. He'd seen many such plays by skilled actors, and less so, in his time and knew all the tricks they'd play. By the end of the first act he began to doze.

The audience gasped. The burly man beside him grunted and the frelokath to his right swallowed hard. Aedir sat up, cleared his throat, and saw a demon on stage. A seven foot, horned and red scaled, demon. The horns were black and rough curling from its forehead and sweeping out beneath the two holes that counted for ears. The demon smiled, blood welled between its teeth, 'I greet thee, mortals. Oh how I've longed to be free of that wretched space that you call The Rift. Where form and time matter little and light is a mere dream. How long I have sought to step upon this Mortal Plane to have my way with you all!' It threw its head back and cackled.

Oswald leapt on stage, 'Not so fast, demon!'

'Ahh, my first victim,' the demon winked at the audience, its eye lids closing side-ways.

Aedir sat up, 'Now how did he do that?' he muttered to himself. He finished his stout and set the mug on the ground. He had to admit the make-up and costume were first rate, as skills went that was a hard one for many of the short-lived troupes to conjure up.

Oswald and the demon began to tussle. The demon ducked and dodged, cackling. Oswald swung with an arming sword, tossed a curved knife, threw a vial of some smoking concoction but nothing worked. The demon laughed and laughed until he didn't and he turned to the audience, 'I grow bored with this one.' He clicked his fingers and Oswald froze.

There was a crash at the edge of the front row, a dozen seats from Aedir. Children screamed, men swore, and a woman cried out, 'He's dead!'

'I assure you, I'm not,' Oswald grunted, frozen in place.

'Not you! My da! He just fell down, dead!' the woman cried. 'Go get, Bethany.' She ordered to the woman next to her.

Oswald held his place as his eyes scrambled to make sense of the scene. The man playing the demon looked around and scoured the front row, his eyes lingering on Aedir and the two either side of him. He clicked his fingers.

A young man collapsed at the other end of the front row. He gasped for air and coughed up blood as he fell face first into the dirt, bleeding from wounds across his arms and torso. 'Get the guard, this man's been stabbed!' Someone shouted. The crowd lurched from confused to panicked and the hundred or so patrons fled.

The burly man was on his feet, sword in hand searching the crowd. Aedir half drew his sabre and watched as the demon exited stage right with Oswald. A third person collapsed, a woman this time, right beside Aedir, her throat cut open.

The Town Watch arrived in quick time, their master an older man with one blue eye and one clouded grey. 'What happened?' he growled at no-one in particular.

'I dunno, my friend just collapsed but he has stab wounds all over him. I don't know how. I don't know.'

'Thed, check him for weapons.'

'You think I did this?'

The Town Watch Master shrugged, 'Kid, I just got here. Need to find my bearings.'

'Well start with them. They're armed to the teeth,' the man pointed at Aedir.

'Travellers?'

'Could say so,' Aedir said.

'What happened to her?' he pointed to the woman with her throat slit open.

'Died. Her throat opened itself.'

'As if by magic?'

'Seemed that way.'

'No weapons on him,' Thed said.

'Alright, shackle those three.'

'I had nothing to do with this,' the burly man growled, greatsword in hand.

'That might be true but I don't know and you are the only ones armed here, that I can see.'

'Oswald was armed, the actor playing the demon hunter,' the frelokath said.

'And I've got Watch back there too,' as he spoke three Town Watchmen approached Aedir and his new friends to relieve them of their weapons and bind their wrists.

'Could I get a little flame?' Aedir asked. The Watchman responded by twisting his arm around to his back. 'I'll take that as a no.' The pipe was confiscated too.

'This is a misunderstanding,' the burly man began. 'I was enjoying the play, greatsword out to not obstruct the view of people behind you see. I'm innocent.'

'Aye, they all say that,' the Watch Master said.

'I am outraged! I have places to be, people to meet!' The frelokath admonished. A Watchman was unsheathing his rapiers along with a coin purse, a polished brass mirror, and what looked like a tube with glass either end that Aedir didn't recognise. 'None of those are weapons, I demand you hand them back!'

Aedir chuckled, 'Friend, you're getting arrested. You can't demand anything.'

The pale man ground his jaw and scowled at Aedir, 'This is your fault.'

'It ain't nobodies fault but the thing that killed these three people.'

'And do you have an idea who that is?' the Watch Master said.

'I have my suspicions,' Aedir said.

'I bet you do. Take them to the Fort.'

The Fort was little more than a stockade. A palisade surrounded a patch of ground with a cluster of buildings to one side, a stable at the other, and little else. Three ageing horses huddled around a trough beside the stable.

Aedir, the burly man, and the frelokath were each chained to a stake outside a wide building with a sign atop the door that read, 'Court House.'

'You'll be here till the Watch Master returns. Your belongings will be stored in the armoury under lock and key. Do not shout. Do not call for help. You may talk amongst yourselves,' the watchman said disinterestedly.

'Do you know who I am?' the frelokath hissed, his hands shackled and chained behind his back.

'No and I don't care.'

'You will!'

'I doubt it,' he sauntered off with the burly man's greatsword over his shoulder and Aedir's sabre in the other hand.

'Who are you then? Some important diplomat?' the burly man said.

The frelokath pursed his lips, 'None of your business.'

'Full of shit then, figures.'

'I'm Aedir, pleasure to meet you both,' he nodded to each.

'Salwell,' the burly man said.

The frelokath man held his tongue.

'What you in town for?'

'Just passing through. This place is a backwater, doesn't even have a bounty board,' Salwell stretched his arms, the chains rattled against the post.

'You're a bounty hunter? Hard trade. Harder still outside the cities.'

'It is but they pay better because so few of us are out here. Besides, I like the quiet. Gives me time to read.'

The frelokath snickered, 'Like you read.'

'Maybe I'll tell the Watch Master I saw you slit that woman's throat,' Salwell spat.

'Easy now. What brings you into town?' Aedir said slow and calm.

'I'm headed to the Dual Cities. My guild has despatched me to work with a merchant family there.'

'Do you have a name?' Aedir groaned.

'Ravi.'

Aedir smiled, 'Great. Now we know each other a little more perhaps we can figure this mystery out.'

Salwell squinted Ravi's way, 'What is it you do?'

'I work with numbers.'

'Then why the weapons?'

'Necessary protection on the road. As you were saying, Aedir.'

'I'm thinking the demon in the play is an actual demon.'

'Oh right. You're not a Kethist are you?' Ravi rolled his eyes.

'I'm no Kethist but hear me out, he blinked sideways and when he clicked his fingers the first man died, same as the second, by the third he was backstage.'

'That's it. That's your evidence?' Salwell said. 'I wouldn't take that bounty. Besides you're talking magic and that's... well you sound insane.'

'Have you never seen a Sarist Paladin summon fire? Or a Visionary of the Many-Eyed God predict the future?' Aedir asked in his calm and measured way.

'Can't say I have. You're well travelled for what... thirty? Thirty-five at most,' Salwell said.

'Thirty-two, been travelling since I had my first beard hair. I ain't never seen a demon before but... if the fairy tales and old stories are true that's what one would look like. Sorta.'

'The Watch Master's going to love you,' Ravi shook his head and stared at the mud.

Hours passed by before the Watch Master returned. The sun was dipping below the roof of his office when he returned alone.

'Where's the demon and Oswald?' Salwell called out.

The Watch Master pinched the bridge of his nose and approached the trio. 'The weapons were props and the demon was in a costume. You three are the prime suspects right now.'

'No blood on our weapons. The first two were way out of reach. Lot of witnesses to say we didn't do it,' Salwell shrugged.

'Yes, yes. It isn't neat and tidy but solving crimes rarely is. The bodies will be inspected, cause of death ascertained, and in a few days we'll have a trial. If you're guilty, you'll hang. If you're innocent, you'll be banished for causing me a headache.'

'Well you listen here, that just isn't fair,' Ravi began.

'Shut it. I haven't the time or patience for your kinds idea of arguing. I would like a pint and a kip so unless you have exonerating evidence stay quiet.'

The trio remained silent.

'Good. See you in the morning. Thed or someone will be out to move you inside, wouldn't want a bear to chew on you while you slept,' the Watch Master began to leave.

'You never told us your name, Watch Master,' Aedir said.

'Wilf, but it's Watch Master to you.'

Once Wilf was out of ear shot Ravi said, 'We're going to hang,' he leaned forward and let the chains keep him from falling flat on his face.

'I have no intention of hanging,' Aedir said. 'I have no intention of staying here for the night either.'

'You got a plan?' Salwell said.

'Yeah but if we fail, or get caught, we'll hang,' Aedir chuckled.

Thed and another Watchman came an hour later. The sun had vanished beneath the land and a purple-orange bruise spread across the sky. The Fort was quiet. Watch Master Wilf had long gone for his ale and sleep, Aedir was certain only Thed and the other black-haired fellow remained behind.

'Don't try anything,' Thed said, bored. His face bore more lines than it should have for his age and his eyes were dull, the fire of youth solidly quenched.

'We wouldn't dare,' Ravi's voice quivered high and low. Thed unlocked the frelokath's chains, leaving the shackles on his wrist, and handed him off to his fellow Watchman.

Next was Aedir, then Salwell. The trio were led into a nearby one-storey stone building with thatch roof. 'How long you been with the Watch?' Aedir asked.

'Me?' Thed replied.

'Both o' ya.'

'Ten years this summer,' Thed replied.

'Three years last harvest,' the other said.

'Bet you've seen some strange stuff in your time, Thed.'

'Some, not much. Quiet out here in Coverley. Mostly bandits and highwaymen, occasional thief.'

'Sounds dull,' Salwell said.

'Yup, and safe. Wouldn't want it any other way,' Thed said. He unhooked the iron bar and slid the door open, 'This is your new home. Least till we hang you.'

'Thanks for the warm welcome,' Aedir grinned to Thed. He crossed the threshold to a dank and stale one room building with a hay floor, an iron barred window at the back with a scenic view of the mouldering palisade, and a bucket in one corner. 'Could use a lick of limewash and a rug,' he said. No one laughed, not even a wry smile. Aedir chewed his lip, now or never, he thought. He turned and slammed his shoulder into Thed's chest ramming him into the flaking plaster wall. A quick headbutt knocked the Watchman out cold.

The other Watchman drew his sword and pressed it to Aedir's side. 'Easy there, I'll take this as a confession of guilt. We'll hang you tonight, town needs a good show after what happened today.'

'No you won't,' Salwell said matter-of-factly and kicked the Watchman in the knees. The man buckled and Salwell slammed him into the door frame. The Watchman fell into a heap. 'Be quick, they won't be out for long.'

Aedir was already pilfering the key from Thed's belt. He released his shackles and placed them on Thed's wrists instead before freeing Salwell. The burly man hurried off to the building next door and began searching for his sword. Aedir approached Ravi with the key.

'No. Leave me out of this. You've committed an actual crime now, they're going to hang you. I want no part of it. I trust the Watch Master to discern the truth and declare me innocent,' Ravi backed away from Aedir until he stumbled against the unconscious Watchman.

'Have it your way,' Aedir grasped Ravi and dragged him inside the sullen building.

'What are you doing?'

'I'm not taking you with me but if you want to wait to get killed then I have to lock you up, then you can argue your innocence to the Watch,' Aedir looped a chain imbedded in the wall at one end through Ravi's shackles and locked him in place.

'Wait a minute,' Ravi pulled at the chains.

'You know what, I think you need some cellmates,' Aedir locked Thed and the other Watchman up beside Ravi and left the trio to the dark.

Salwell emerged with two bundles, one for himself and the other for Aedir. 'Frelokath not joining?'

'Nope.'

'Thought not,' Salwell strapped his greatsword to his back and flung the cloak over one shoulder. 'Good of them to give us a cloak.'

'Very generous, good thick wool too. And a hood, handy,' Aedir found his pipe, still stuffed, inside. 'Was there a flame in there?'

'No, fire was out too. Think they were headed home.'

Aedir sighed and tapped the lip of the pipe against his lip, 'Shame. Well, let's get out of here before they wake.' He strolled towards the front gate, wide open to the town.

'Hang on, you're just gonna walk out?'

'Don't see why not. Makes it seem like we have been cleared of wrongdoing. Besides, it's late, who's going to be out at this time?'

'Lead the way,' Salwell said. His eyes surveyed from left to right with the rhythm of a pendulum as the pair passed through the gate. The town was still. 'Now what?'

'We have to get back to the theatre troupe, see what's what,' Aedir marched down the centre of the road. Cottages and out-houses flanked either side, a few windows flickered with candlelight or firelight but most were dark, their shutters closed.

The benches had been cleared and the stage half dismantled. Boards painted with trees were piled up to the side, leaning on the raised stage floor. Three wagons were circled behind to create a space for tents and a campfire. Smoke rose into the air only to be carried on a southern wind and dispersed into the night sky. The bodies had been moved but the bloodstains would remain in the dirt until the next rain. Aedir rested his hand on the hilt of his sabre and chewed the bit of his pipe. He kept a good distance and walked round the theatre troupe's camp until he could catch sight of them. The kids had gone to bed it seemed but Oswald's actor, the demon, three women, and two other men sat around the fire smoking, drinking from clay mugs, and chatting. All looked sullen, save the demon. Oswald had hung up his outfit but the demon remained in his. Aedir found that strange. He rolled his shoulders and approached the camp, Salwell a few steps behind. 'Good evenin' to y'all,' Aedir waved. 'Mind if I catch a flame?'

'The murderers. What are you doing here?' Oswald spat.

'I'll take that as a no,' Aedir slipped the pipe into his belt. 'The murderer sits among you, easy to spot too. Still don't know how he did it though.'

One of the woman, mousy blonde with green eyes, shook her head and made a sound of disgust, 'We should call the Watch Master.'

'No need for that, this won't take long,' Aedir began to circle behind the troupe and their campfire. 'I've been all over this continent. From Helwith to Braekon, from the Great Lom to Stanholdt and beyond into the Far North where sunlight no longer shines. I have been atop Torkatoth the Wandering City and down to the Everdark. I have met many humans, dwarves, frelokath, and a couple of alokath too. I have seen strange machinations powered by Lom Crystals that behave like people but aren't. I've ridden airships and sailed to the southern archipelago out of the Dual Cities and not once have I seen a sentient with horns who could perform magic by clicking his fingers,' Aedir stopped behind the demon. 'What's your name?'

'Garet,' the demon actor said.

'Well Garet,' Aedir tugged on one of his horns, Garet crashed off his stool into the mud. Aedir pulled at the skin around Garet's ear, it was not fake. Aedir circled round. 'Oswald was genuinely frozen in place. I've never seen that type of magic, very special, very elusive.'

None of the troupe spoke up, their eyes tracking Aedir like a hawk tracks a rabbit.

'And when he blinked, he blinked horizontally, not vertically. Very odd. I know frelo- and alokath blink in one long swoop but his was different. When he clicked those fingers a man died, and another, and another but if it worked on anyone I'd be dead too, so something is protecting me or weakened them.'

'You're so full of shit,' the mousy blonde woman said.

'I ain't got to the best part,' Aedir said.

'Enough,' Garet huffed. 'You stroll in here with your accusations and abuses for what? To piss us off before you disappear into the night or do you want to be caught?'

'I'm here because it's the right thing to do and nobody else is gonna do it,' Aedir drew his sabre.

'Oh shit,' Oswald's actor tumbled off his stool. The women screamed and scattered from the campfire.

Garet remained. 'Your kind never learn,' he clicked his fingers and a falchion appeared in his hand.

'What's happening?' the boy that sold Aedir his seat and stout poked a head out from his tent.

'BACK INSIDE THE TENT!' Oswald's actor bellowed.

Aedir leapt over the fire, sabre high and fast. The steel shimmered in the flame and struck the edge of the falchion. Garet twisted out of the brunt of the attack and right into Salwell's fist. The demon rocked back, his form blurring into two. Salwell reached for his greatsword but by the time he swung Garet was on the other side of camp with blurry copies of himself dotted about the camp. In the dark the three Garet's all looked alike. 'They can't all hurt you. A good swipe and the illusions will vanish,' Aedir hoped he was right.

'How do you know?' Salwell held his greatsword in both hands. There was nothing special to it, no enchantment or blessing just a big hunk of iron with a jewel for a pommel.

'Intuition,' Aedir charged at the vision on the left and sliced across Garet's torso. Garet made to block but Aedir's blade passed right through and the illusion turned to mist. He rounded on the real Garet, his back to a wagon.

The demon clicked his fingers and from atop the wagon the mousy-blonde threw herself at Aedir, clawing him with her nails. He tried to hold her back but she was too strong in her madness, the whites of her eyes turned black. Aedir shoved her into the wagon. Her head cracked against the side and she fell limp at the wheel.

'Marianne?' Oswald's actor called. 'Get the Watch Master! And a healer!'

'She don't need a healer,' Aedir growled and advanced on Garet. 'You done using this troupe as your shield? How long you had them under your thumb? Coward!' His reckless swings sent sparks screaming from Garet's falchion.

'You think me some amateur hypnotist?' Garet laughed from deep in his chest as he parried and blocked with ease. He clicked his fingers.

'Aedir, behind you!' Salwell called. The last Garet illusion burst into mist at the tip of his greatsword and he charged at the real Garet.

Aedir spun a block and glanced behind him. The mousy blonde was on her feet, knives in hand, and running towards Aedir. 'Didn't your mother teach you not to run with knives?' he parried a low strike from the falchion, twisted his blade, and kicked the pair up where they collided with the two knives coming his way. He grabbed the woman by the wrist hard enough that her grip loosened involuntarily. The other knife slammed into his thigh, slipping between two of the scales. Aedir grunted. 'You're making a real good argument for me to kill you, woman,' he said with gritted teeth. Aedir grabbed her hand, still wrapped around the knife in his thigh, and held her close to him.

Salwell's greatsword passed through Garet's shadow and crashed into the dirt. A quick turn and it slammed into the wheel of a wagon, cracking the wood. Garet danced between the swings, smirking to himself.

Aedir held the woman close to him with his sword arm dragged her away. She bit and snarled and tried to claw at him with her partially free arm. 'Sod this,' Aedir slammed his forehead into hers and she dropped down, cold. He left the knife in his thigh, pulled the scalemail over it so it wouldn't jostle, and attacked Garet. The demon became a blur once more, his falchion blocking attacks with impossible timing. A familiar click sounded. 'Not again.'

'Oi! Fight me instead!' Oswald's actor appeared from behind a wagon, a wooden sword in hand. Garet's lips moved as the actor spoke.

'What are you doing?' one of the other actors said. 'Hey, Pad, your sword's not real! Wait for the Watch!'

'I am the Watch!'

'No you're not! What the hell has gotten into you?' Pad's fellow actor ran out and grabbed him. 'Garet's sorting it out.' There was another click. 'Hey Pad, you got another sword?'

'Yeah, in my tent.'

Aedir's heart sank. He didn't want to kill any of them, he didn't want to injure them either, but Garet was going to make him as much as he could. He pulled the knife from his thigh, blood sluiced down his leg, and threw it into Pad's shoulder. Pad screamed and fell to one knee.

Garet stumbled, his right shoulder flinching and forcing his guard to drop. Aedir swung for his neck and felt his sabre tear through flesh and bone. Garet fell to ground, head hanging half off. Aedir hacked at the remaining bone and held the head up by the horns. The fake skin that created human lips and a nose fell away to reveal long, thin serrated teeth beneath flat skin and no nostrils. The demon's eyes became a solid deep blue.

Pad and the other two actors came too. 'What the hell am I doing? Why is there a knife in my shoulder?' Pad cried.

The mousy blonde screamed as she felt the blood on her face and her broken nose. Salwell leaned on his greatsword, sweat dripping from every inch of him. 'That... was not what I was expecting,' he drank down gulps of air. 'How'd you know he'd feel the knife?'

'Intuition. He moved his lips to make others speak so I figured it was worth trying. Just glad I was quick enough to react,' Aedir leaned on his sabre to give the wound in his thigh a rest.

'Came to finish the job did you?' Watch Master Wilf called. Six Watchmen flanked him.

'More like do your job,' Aedir wiped the ichor from his sabre and sheathed it. His thigh throbbed and each step forced more blood out. He was lucky it wasn't a deep wound or he'd need a real good healer. He found his pipe and reached for a twig on the edge of the campfire. Sweet flavours soon caressed his tongue.

'I don't go round killing innocents! Arrest him.'

'Watch Master, if I may. This man saved us,' Pad began. 'Garet was a demon. We were under his influence, I can't explain that but just look at the head!'

Aedir held Garet's head up.

Wilf recoiled, 'Alright. That... ain't like anyone I've ever seen.' He turned to Pad, 'You expect me to believe in mind control now?'

'It's true!' the boy burst from the tent. 'I've seen Garet do it before, he clicks his fingers and people do things he wants but not just anyone. A certain type. I don't know how to explain it.'

'And have you seen him kill by clicking his fingers?'

'Well no... but... I imagine it's similar,' the boy frowned.

Aedir hummed and said, 'Did those who died have disease, or where they melancholic or something?'

Watch Master Wilf thought for a moment, stale beer on his breath. 'Two of them had a sickness that would taken them soon and the woman was... troubled.' He scratched his head. 'There's no way anyone's going to believe this after I'm gone. The next Watch Master's going to read the records and think a madman protected Coverley.'

'You caught a demon. That's no small feat. When you next meet an alokath or a dwarf who knows their history ask them about demons,' Aedir said. 'Trust me,' he handed over the head.

'What do I do with this?'

Aedir shrugged, 'Hang it on your wall.'

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