Roocal had been following the southerly trail he'd found outside the cave for about an hour. He had just passed two small stone houses on the road and was approaching what appeared to be a small village. It didn't look familiar, so Roocal assumed he'd never been there before.
An old sign was hidden beneath the overgrown foliage on the roadside. Although it was faded and worn, he was still able to make out what it said, 'Chew - Safe Zone'.
As he continued past the sign, he noticed a small but distinct mark appear on his left hand. A plain circle with a diagonal slash through the centre. It didn't hurt and touching it appeared to do nothing. Backtracking a few steps he noticed the symbol disappear, only to see it reappear as he walked forward past the sign again. Curious, he thought.
The village itself looked run down. Trees were beginning to encroach around the edges and weeds could be seen pushing their way up through cracks in the ground. The masonry, too, had not not been spared, with vines and creepers clearly visible between the bricks and stonework. But there were still hints of life around and Roocal was sure the place wasn't completely deserted.
Facing the central square, he stared at the large building opposite him. It was the biggest structure in the area and had an old shabby wooden sign hanging above the door. There seemed to be a four legged creature painted on the sign, which might have been a dragon but then again, it could equally have been a mouse, it was hard to tell. But the building itself had to be the local inn, so Roocal slowly made his way towards the front door, pushing it open.
The inn was quiet and practically empty. The few people that were there, were just sitting with their head in their hands. None of them bothered to look up as Roocal entered. Taking in the room, Roocal noticed the benches and tables were relatively well kept, although a couple of the tables still had dirty mugs and plates on them. There was also a slightly musty smell in the air, as if the windows and doors hadn't been opened for a long time, but all in all, it seemed like your typical tavern, just minus the customers.
The door behind the bar then swung open and a large Hibarian stepped through. The heavy set man paused briefly as he spotted Roocal, before standing up a bit straighter and saying, "Welcome, Traveller. Visitors are rare indeed these days."
Roocal nodded a greeting towards the barman but was surprised to see the barman's words hadn't roused any of the other three people in the place. They still just sat by themselves, staring blankly, head in hands.
"Have you coin?" The barman asked, his tone deep but not threatening.
Roocal nodded again.
"A mug is just a copper," the barman continued.
Roocal fished one of the coins from his pouch and placed it on the bar. It looked silver. The Hibarian quickly pocketed it and replaced it with nine coppers and a large wooden mug of something.
Roocal drained the contents before placing the mug and a further copper on the bar. "What happened here?" he said, looking at the three other patrons.
"No Visitors anymore," the man said, "You are the first in over six weeks."
"Why?" Roocal said, watching the man's head on the farthest table slump further into his hands.
The barman shrugged, "Dunno."
Roocal wasn't quite sure what to make of that.
"My name's Carb. This is the Snarling Griff," the Hibarian continued.
"Griff?" Roocal mumbled under his breath, no closer to knowing whether the creature on the sign was a mouse or a dragon.
"What are Visitors?" Roocal asked.
YOU ARE READING
Echoes of Before
Fantasy[Completed] Roocal doesn't know where he's from or how he got here but as events unfold around him, he starts to suspect there is more to his being here than meets the eye ...
