The Traveler in "The Assassin of The Spider Queen" (solo)

[DreamCatcher]

The village of Homllet was truly just a small collection of huts gathered around a small central square, farmhouses spreading out for many miles behind them. The only inn for travelers to stay and rest was a small, wooden building with three guest rooms on the top floor, a small kitchen used for the preparation of evening meals, and a large dining room full of tables and chairs. The Warm Hearth Inn did far more business serving meals and ale to the locals than it did renting it’s rooms.

Kurtz sat in the dining room, stirring his spoon through a bowl of warm stew, freshly made from the local ingredients, deep in thought. He’d been contemplating his choices, and not for the first time, wishing desperately that he’d stayed with his adoptive parents instead of insisting on experiencing the world when his term of servitude had ended.

After an hour of staring somberly into the stew in front of him, the serving girl who went by the name Sarah walked past his table, collected the mostly empty mug of ale, and replaced it with a fresh one. Kurtz looked up from his stupor, the young girl giving him sultry wink and walked away with a smile. “There Slave! She Shows Romantic Interest! It Would Be Simple To Feed On Her. You May Even Find It Enjoyable.” Kurtz began to redden in the face, partly from embarrassment but mostly from anger. Placing his spoon on the table, he walked out of the tavern, needing some fresh air. Sometimes he found the skull useful and interesting to talk to, but mostly, it just kept pushing and prodding, moving it’s own agenda forward.

“To What Place Do We Head, Slave? If You Are Feeling Sufficiently Restful, We Would Be Best Served Practicing More, Lest We Fall Victim To The Predations Of My Children.” The skull chided him, as the stable boy walked to simply clear his head. “I just need some time to think.” Kurtz said through gritted teeth, attempting in vain to outrun the spirit.

The pair made it back to the clearing at the prodding of the necromancer, and once again Kurtz drew his simple iron blade, approaching the stance. When the spirit raised the skeletons once more, Kurtz allowed his frustration to pour out during the exercise, the dark bags under his eyes becoming sunken, his skin beginning to look aged and stretched. The first two foes fell just as before, but when the third came up to strike, Kurtz blade came up from the lower position, cleaving the monster in half, his sword carrying a black sheen that had not been present before.

The boy stood in a fierce pose, not exalting in his success but instead staring at the remains of the skeletons, watching black veins slowly creep into the bones from the source of the inflicted wounds, until suddenly they collapsed back into dust. He breathed deeply, allowing his anger and frustration to vent. Slowly, as the shadows of clouds flew in front of the sun, his skin returned to it’s normal complexion, his face looking haggard, but not unnaturally so.
The Skull of Namenth’al floated in the air in front of him, not breaking the silence of the moment. Kurtz studied his sword, watching the black sheen fade over time.