Rose

A tiring journey

      "Love, you don't really think this is going to work?" Alice asked. Will raised an eyebrow and responded, "of course! I've been planning this for months, don't worry." Setting down his chalk, he stood up and pecked her forehead.
      "Besides, it's just a simple summoning spell. It's not going to explode," he reassured. With those words he opened his notebook and began reading from it. His voice echoed throughout the darkened room. Each word sent a visible wave of energy through the air, but Alice was nowhere near impressed.
      "W-William, Love you said this was a simple summoning spell," her voice trembled. Concentration unbroken, William continued. The sigil on the floor glowed with an entrancing glow. It glowed brighter and brighter as the versus were spoken until it was unbearable. William couldn't hear his wife screaming his name.

     "William! WILLLLIAAAAM!" She screamed as the room imploded in on itself.

     The memory of the explosions hitting him jolted Will up from his restless sleep. A cold sweat met him as his body adjusted to being awake. Sunlight pierced through the trees above him, and the warmth of the Southern Hemisphere calmed him. He threw off his cloak and walked to the near by stream.

     "The closer I get to this damn city the worse these dreams are getting... guess he was right. That thing is here," he thought splashing his face with water. He cursed, frustrated with this journey. After several instances with wolves trying to take his food and a lake that was too deep for man to ever go near it ever, he was growing increasingly tired. At the snap of his fingers, his cloak flew onto him, and his pack fell into his hand.

One foot in front of the other straight to Kuro. Through the forest of cloaked rain, past the crooked hills, and through a few bloody mountains Will can't remember the names of. A lover of knowledge he considered himself just not of the geographical sense. Rolling up his scribbled map he went on his way.

Very rarely in the world does one find pleasant people on the road or in towns, but the farther south you get the more that changes. It's not uncommon for one to come across a generous merchant who will give a way a few loafs if you're low on food. Certain people say it's the weather, but William always was always skeptical of that answer.

The Crooked Hills, home of the smallest critters and the largest of southern beasts. William sat under one of the infamous crooked hills which formed a sort of hook allowing him a break from the horrid suns. Snatching a small towel from his pack, he wiped the sweat from his forehead. He lived in the north for most of his life. This heat was damn near torture, but he still found sleep within it.

Boom... Boom... Footsteps broke William out of his short nap. He focused his eyes and observed the hills. There was nothing, but rumbling rocks and shaking beasts.
"What in the world...," he thought as he stepped out of his shelter and looked up. A hallow-backed hill walker, the largest William had ever seen. The bestiaries had nothing close to this recorded, so he whipped out his notebook almost recklessly excited. Immediately drawing its legs which were double the length of its body, the beasts head designed for lurching out and eating predatory birds, tan hide of the beast, and it's hallowed out shell that other beasts use as shelter. He approximated its height to be about 70 feet tall.
The man couldn't keep his eyes off it as it slowly moved its away about the similarly colored crooked hills. The thrill of new discoveries is the only reason the man is alive today. He hated approximations, but it was far to dangerous to get near the giant.
"The next researcher I meet is going to shit himself, " William boasted. He slapped closed the notebook, and with his new found energy, he continued. The currently nameless mountains weren't far off now.

Towards the entrance into the mountains William had forgotten, stood a figure wrapped in tanned cloth.
"Another fool I see!," a gruff voice yelled out. Will stopped not sure if he heard him right.
"Pardon?", he yelled back.
"You aren't very bright are you boy?!"
A twitch formed in his right eye, "What about me makes you think that?!"
William was close enough to see the old man scratch his beard.
"Fact you're out here in these parts is enough."
"What do you mean?" William asked. Their voices quieted as the distance between them shrinked. His face was rugged from years of traversing these hills, and his height was perfect. Short but big enough to be imposing to all matter of beast and man.
"Pack of Horrors, the slim kind, have taken home somewhere around here," he explained, "they been scooping up locals at night. The bastards haven't left a trail either."
Will scratched his chin. He looked at the mountain passage and then back to the hills. Eyebrows furrowed, he squinted at the old man. "You're certain that the things attacking the local nomads are Horrors?" The old man thought for a moment, "The beasts were unlike anything I've ever seen... doesn't make 'em any less dangerous."