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Description
  The day was uncharacteristically sunny and clear for Gallowmere at Summer’s end, and a small caravan was currently making the most of the conditions on their circuit. Having left the thick forest that they had spent most of the prior day travelling through, they now rode over an open plain, not far off from the western coast. The occasional cottony cloud had drifted by to give some minor shade, though never truly hiding the sun; it was ideal travelling weather for the family of vendors. They had been journeying north within two wagons, one was a ramshackle collection of chairs, tables, and, wrapped and protected within, a fine assortment of liquors with tags of varying prices attached; among the other incidentals was a finely painted sign that simply read “The Walking Shell”. The second was a cozy little trailer, just big enough to comfortably fit the family and their current guest for an evening’s rest. The patriarch of the family took the reins of the former, and the matriarch took the latter. Within the mobile abode, three children sat in darkness with only a small candle and narrow gaps in the wooden walls to provide light as the windows had all be fastened shut.

  The children were all of a comparable height, and shared the same sun-kissed skin tones, with pale freckles landing upon their cheeks. Their clothes were loose and of a homemade, stitch-worked, and threadbare quality. Among them was a boy in a green vest overtop a similarly colored, albeit paler, shirt; his teal hair was pushed up and towards the back of his head, as if sculpted by a fierce wind rushing past him. His eyes were wide, and his mouth was stretched out into a grin as he regarded the ramblings of his sister sitting to his left.

  “...And there’s something truly terrible inside that lone castle. A BEAST! She’s got fangs, RAZOR SHARP ones!!” She had called out in impish delight. “And massive paws with KILLER claws!” She continued, waving her arms and wiggling her fingers for emphasis. She wore a loose pink dress overtop a pair of faded and torn trousers. Her magenta hair had a small ponytail tied with a bow at the top of her head, though the rest of her hair was wild and erratic, like a crack of lightning. She was staring down at her other brother as she relayed her story, relishing in the dread it caused him.

  “C-cut it out Rosée!” He had stammered out. “I don’t like this story!” The young boy had whimpered, much to the amusement of his siblings. He was in a light purple coat that was far too baggy on him, even by the standards of the triplets, to the point where the grey shorts he wore could scarcely be seen underneath. His violet hair mostly hung down off his head, but a few errant strands had defiantly stood up in a mess, as though it had been patted down by the heavy rain. His brother and sister had started to laugh at his scared response, much to his annoyance.

  All of the noise the trio had been making disturbed their current company from her slumber, though they hadn’t noticed it in their reverie. Before fully gaining consciousness, she took stock of her surroundings, noting the motion of the room, she realized they were in mid-travel. From the slight light peeking through the cracked wood of the room, she gathered that it was midday, and from the current behaviour of the triplets, she realized they were already enamoured with the fable she had privately shared with the young girl the night prior. She had slowly and quietly crept from her bunk, like a shadow in the dark, she went unnoticed by the three children. Quickly licking the tips of her thumb and forefinger, she reached for the candle resting between the trio and snuffed it out. In the dark she had whispered out in sinister tone “And she’s said to sacrifice children to her monstrous apatite!”

  The blood in their veins turned to ice in the terror of the moment, as the three kids let out a scream, and they fled from the room. The door on the side of the caravan flung open in the blink of an eye, making a loud “THUD” as it connected with the side of the wagon before the hinges could even creak, and the three youngsters made way to their mother, currently distressed by the abrupt outburst, at the head of the vehicle. Their unexpected guest caught the giggle in her throat before it could ring out, her own surprise overwhelming the humor of the moment as she quickly realized her mistake, and her apprehension turned to panic when the cries of the children resonated out.

  “MOM!! MOM! MOM!!!” The triplets had shouted out in a discordant cacophony, climbing their way up to the driver's seat.

  “What in the world has gotten into you three?!?!” Their mother called out as she brought the coach to a halt. The children had simultaneously started rambling on about what had happened in the interior of their ride, each telling different half-truths about what they had been doing before some unknown “thing” had jumped out at them. Irritated at the scattered tale of her children, their mother bellowed out “CALM DOWN!! Just one at a time! One at a time.”

  “Uhm... Me first?” A shy voice from behind eked out from the agent of this discontent.

  The three then started up with all manner of exclamations, now realizing whom was responsible for the shock. Some were angered, others were denial about the fear she had caused. The mother had started to get annoyed at the whole display and once again raised her voice, calling out “ENOUGH! GLOBOX!!”

  The wagon ahead, oblivious to the excitement of the day, had continued on before skidding to a stop at the sound of the call. Looking back, the driver had seen the other wagon parked in the road and simply yelled back “WHAT?!?”

  “Kids, go ride with your dad.” Their mother had instructed.

  “But mom...” came the quick response from Rosée.

  “No ‘buts’, get going.” Her mother interrupted. “I want to have a private talk with Tawna.”

  “Oooohhh, you're in trouble.” The boy in green taunted as he dismounted, which was met with an extended tongue from Tawna.

  “Keep it moving Drizzle!” His mother, once again, instructed. The trio had made their way up to the other wagon, as their guest climbed into the passenger seat with their mother.

  When they made their approach, their father had yelled out in joy “Oh, I see! You kids wanted to spend some quality time with the old man.” as a great grin spread across his face.

  He was a large and affable figure, dark of skin, with combed back blue hair, a mustache that had been curled up at the ends covering his face, and a round earring pierced his left ear. He wore a blue fez cap, a loose-fitting white ruffled shirt with intricate patterns resembling sea waves, and a cerulean vest to complete the look. He easily helped hoist each of his children up with him, for while the attire would highlight his paunch, the loose sleeves hid strong, burly arms.

  “And here you go Mr. Mist.” Globox said, placing his hat on the head of the purple-clad boy. He then proceeded to offer them a handful from the bag of grapes he had been snacking on, they each accepted with thanks, and he began to ask his children: “Now what did the grape say when he was stepped on?”

  “Daaaaaad... you tell this one every time!” Drizzle had moaned out.

  “Nothin’...” Globox continued, ignoring his son’s protest. “...He just let out a little WINE!”

  The laughter he got out of Mist was well worth the groans he got from his other son and daughter. As the grin grew ever wider across his face, and the fear that previously took strangle hold on the children had melted away, they continued on their journey. The carriage behind them had also resumed its course as the two women sat atop it.

  Like her husband, the mother was tall, of tan complexion, she had an ample figure, magenta hair was tucked under a pink bonnet hat, and hoop earrings flanked her head. The ruffles of a pale dress hung off her shoulders, covered from the waist down by a coral colored skirt with similar patterns to her husband’s shirt, and a dark purple bodice overtop both. She had a stern look as she eyed her current companion.

  The young lady next to her possessed an alabaster skin tone, an hourglass figure, long blond hair that flowed off her head in waves down to her shoulder blades, and emerald eyes that shimmered in the sunlight. A pink wide-neck top with short puff sleeves, a wide blue skirt with a slight part at the front cascading out from her waist, and dark grey trousers tucked into matching boots adorned her. She was desperately trying to avoid eye contact with her friend, when she meekly declared “I’m sorry, Uglette.”

  “I’m not the one you should be apologizing to.” Uglette shot back. “I told you I didn’t want my kids hearing those ghost stories.”

  “Oh, come on! If it wasn’t me telling those tall tales, it just would’ve been someone else.” Tawna had taken the defensive with her friend. “At least I gave them the kid friendly version.”

  “The ‘kid friendly’ version that has them running and screaming out of the wagon?” The mother had shot back.

  “Well, that was just me spooking them.” The blonde said with a slight smile as she finally made eye contact. She immediately regretted it as she glanced upon a sight that could test the resolve of even the most stalwart warrior; the look of a disappointed mother.

  “Tawna, the kids like you...” Uglette had started in a frustrated tone. “...and we wouldn’t have let you come along if we didn’t trust you around them. So, when I tell you not to tell ‘em those ghost stories, and you go and tell ‘em anyway; then we have a problem.”

  “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” Said Tawna, as her voiced had softened. “And I’ll apologize to the kids when we set up camp.”

  “Good.” Uglette said surprisingly cheerfully, and she started rustling Tawna’s hair. “I would’ve hated to leave you on the side of the road.”

  “You would NOT!” Tawna said in shock, as she lightly swatted at her friends' hand.

  “I would, to anyone who’s a problem for my children at least.” Uglette replied calmly.

  “Well, it’s a good thing I won’t be a problem for them anymore.” Said Tawna nervously, as she took a sip from her canteen.

  “And if you impress us, you might end up being their godmother.” Uglette responded.

  The statement had caused Tawna to gasp mid-gulp, and some water had gone down her wind pipe. She sat there, coughing on her drink for a moment and slightly tearing up from it, before she could finally ask through her newly sore throat. “You’re not serious, are you?”

  “No.” Uglette said with a smile. “But that was payback for scaring my kids.”

  With tensions now eased between the two, the rest of their long ride could be passed with a friendly conversation. As midday had faded into twilight the caravan had reached their destination, the small village of Zephyr sitting on a bay known as Breeze Harbour. The bay was large, housing several small islands and leading directly to the nearby Midnight Mountain range, along the side of which one could see an old gothic castle peeking through the seafoam mist and above the neighboring woods. Setting up camp just outside of town and just on the forest’s edge, the family had started a small bonfire to cook their evening meal before turning in for the night; Tawna had taken this time to offer her apology to the triplets, and was met with their forgiveness. As the stew had started to bubble in the pot, Globox had just finished unpacking the sign that rested in his wagon and was hoisting it onto its latch on the roof with Tawna’s help. Now on clear display, the nearby locals of Zephyr could see that the Walking Shell would be open for business the following day.

  Over the course of the next day, Tawna and the family had started unloading the supplies from the wagons in order to set up shop. The one that had housed all of the accoutrements for the nomad bar could also open its side to function as a counter for the customers. Chairs and tables were spread out, a canvas sheet tied to the nearby trees provided a canopy, and a menu with a display of drinks was set up behind the counter; the makeshift storefront provided a warm, cozy, and very welcoming atmosphere. The day had provided one or two customers here and there for the family to host, but evening was when the real business hours could start. With the sun dipping towards the ocean in the west, turning the sky a bright red as dark clouds gathered overhead, a large collection of villagers had made their way the bar.

  Around the back of the wagons, the triplets were working hard to clean the glasses as quickly as the customers could drain them, stealing the occasional frightened glances at the sinister, looming castle that was the subject of the story Tawna had shared with them. Globox stood behind the counter pouring drinks, and enjoying a conversation with another Gallowmere traveller he had met on many other separate occasions. Uglette and Tawna were weaving their way between tables and patrons to serve the drinks to their customers. As the hours went on, the children were put to bed, patrons had begun to disperse for the evening, and a calm atmosphere had taken over.

  A rough looking man with messy brown hair, patches of stubble bursting from his face, a thick leather coat, and a dark green backpack hanging from his shoulders had made his way to the temporary tavern, giving Tawna a wink and a grin as he made his way past her. She narrowed her eyes at him before turning up her nose and walking away, and with a slight shrug, the man continued to the bar area.

  “Who’s the new girl?” asked a man already sitting at the counter. He had long, dirty blonde hair, a goatee beard, and sky-blue eyes. He was adorned in a yellowish tan cloak with a fur collar, and black spots covering the cloth. Nothing else of his person could be seen, save for the bow slung over his shoulder.

  “Oh, that’s Tawna.” Globox simply answered, as he filled the man's cup with a personal whisky that wasn’t on the menu.

  “That’s it? C’mon, what’s the story?” The blonde pressed on.

  “We’ve known her a while. First met her back in Innsgobb, but we picked her up for this trip over in Terrace Village.” He answered.

  “That can’t be al-” The blonde was cut off as the brunette man shouldered passed him.

  “G’day, mate.” He said with a thick accent to the barkeep. “Won’t need ya long, jus’ pickin’ up somethin’ fer mah boss.” He continued pulling off and reaching into his pack to pull out a small list and a pouch of coins. He handed the former to Globox.

  “HEY! Do you mind?!?” The archer asked the crude man heatedly.

  “Calm down, Hunter.” Globox said as he looked over the list he had been given.

  “Don’t mind one bit, mate.” The brown-haired man answered with narrowed eyes and a smug grin. “Jus don’t go botherin’ me again.”

  Hunter had risen up from his seat to meet the man eye to eye, a sneer formed at his lip in his irritation, which was met with the same smug grin that only served to challenge him. This staring contest lasted for a few minutes, as each man waited for the other to make a move. The tense stare-down was interrupted with a loud clattering sound as Globox heaved a crate of assorted bottles onto the counter.

  “You boys wanna fight? You take it outside.” The barkeeper declared sternly. “But first, YOU, pay up.” He looked dead on at the stranger, who handed him the pouch, the smile faded from his face. Globox counted the coins as he leaned over, putting the better part of his weight on the box so the customer could not take it prematurely. Hunter sat back down, returning to his drink and absentmindedly stealing glances of the blonde waitress, which didn’t go unnoticed.

  “She’s too good for ya, mate.” Said the brute.

  “Shut up.” Came Hunter’s simple reply.

  “Okay, you’re good.” Globox interrupted again. “Whoever your boss is, tell him ‘thanks for the business’ for me.”

  “Will do.” The brown-haired man said as he hoisted the crate up into his arms and left the bar, going out of his way to bump into Tawna one last time before leaving.

  Putting the encounter behind them, when a few minutes had passed Hunter started up once again. “So, you met Tawna in Innsgobb, but picked her up in Terrace Village. Sounds like she's got that wanderlust too.”

  “Come on, Hunter.” Globox said with a sigh. “You said you were headed south, right? Well we’re headed north, it just don’t work out for you. Besides, that creep got one thing right; she IS too good for you!” He finished, nudging his friends' shoulder.

  “Yeah, maybe.” Hunter said as he took a sip. “But I’ve always had a thing for blondes.” He continued as he got up and made his approach to the faire young lady.

  The night had winded down, and, during her reprieve, Tawna had taken a seat at an empty table, and was entertaining herself by walking a coin across the back of her fingers and flipping it from one hand to the other, when she noticed the man’s approach.

  “Can I help you?” She politely asked.

  “Well, I noticed you sittin’ off all by yourself,” Hunter started. “an’ I thought you looked kinda lonely, figured you might like the company.”

  “Oh, really?” Tawna with a light smile and half-lidded gaze. “How thoughtful.” Pocketing the coin, she stood up and leaned on the table. She went to cross her arms, but paused and held out her right hand expectantly. “I’m Tawna.”

  “Hunter.” He replied, taking her hand. Extending his arm had pushed his cloak to the side and revealed more of his attire; namely a leather wrist guard, a studded leather chest guard, a thick belt with a sheathed hunting knife, and a large quiver of arrows hanging just behind his hip with the arrow fletches extending past his right flank.

  “So, Hunter,” Tawna started, taking her hand back and crossed her chest. “what brings you to our little establishment?”

  “Oh, me and Globox go way back.” Hunter said with a smile. “I travel through Gallowmere a lot, so our paths tend to cross. I always stop by to say ‘hi’.”

  “A wanderer, huh?” Tawna asked, feigning interest. “I guess that explains the protection,” she continued, tapping a finger to his armoured chest. “must get pretty dangerous out there?”

  “Heh, nothing I can’t handle.” The blond man said with a slightly smug grin.

  “And I bet nothing gets past your eagle eyes, eh sharpshooter?” The blond woman said, obviously stealing a glance at his bow, then closing the distance ever so slightly.

  “Well, I don’t like to brag...” He trailed off with a glance to the side.

  “Boy, I’d just hate to be on the receiving end of one of these.” She said as she stepped back and began twirling of his arrows in her left hand.

  “Huh? Hey, Wai-” The archer exclaimed, looking down to his quiver. “Heh... Would you believe I let ya do that?” He asked with an awkward grin and flushed cheeks.

  “We can go with that, if you want.” She smirked at him and gave a quick wink.

  Then, a large, meaty hand clapped Hunter on the back and startled him. Standing next to him was Globox, with a wide smile adorning his face.

  “Sorry to interrupt,” He started in a warm tone “whatever THIS is, but we gotta start closing up shop for the evening."

  “Really?” Hunter asked, deadpan.

  “Hey man, we gotta get to sleep at some point. It’s getting' late, and besides, you got an early start south tomorrow.” The lively man answered.

  “Better luck next time.” Tawna said, offering the arrow back.

  “Nah,” Hunter said with a wave of his hand. “keep it. I let you take it, remember?”

  “Oh, thank you so much, eagle eye.” She began toying with it again. “Maybe we’ll meet on another stop, then you can show how good a shot you are.”

  “I’d like that.” He replied. “You have yourself a good evening, Miss Tawna.”

  “You too.” She answered. “Until next time.”

  The two parted ways, Hunter felt confident in his first meeting with the young lady, and Tawna was amused with the antics she had pulled on the travelling archer. He proceeded back to town for a night's rest, and she helped store all the accessories of the shop for the evening with the newly acquired arrow snuggly notched in her belt.

  With the customers back in their homes, and as the parents of the nomad clan were getting ready to join their children's slumber in the wagon, Tawna was making her way into the forest, now carrying a light grey satchel slung across her shoulder.

  “Hey, night-owl!” Globox called out to his friend, completely unfazed by her wanderings. “Don’t get lost on your walk!”

  “I never do!” She responded cheerfully.

  “And remember to actually turn in at some point BEFORE dawn, we’ll be needing you again tomorrow.” He called out.

  “Goodnight, Globox!” Tawna half-heartedly called back, brushing off the statement.

  “Goodnight Tawna!” said the father, closing the door to his wagon for a well-earned evening of rest.

  And with the door now shut, the blonde started to pick up her pace and began to hurry through the woods, almost skipping, as she hummed a melody to herself. The trees grew tall and thick, a lesser traveller could easily find themselves irrevocably lost within, but Tawna was sure of the direction of her destination, and she stayed true to her path. When the canopy of leaves would thin out and allow for a view of the nearby mountains, she could easily spy the castle that was her target. Gallowmere was a land full of myths and legends, a good number of which were surprisingly true, and when she had learned of this castle, said to once be the home of some Queen from the olden days of the land, shunned by the locals, gone untouched for hundreds of years, and potentially filled with the riches of old royalty, she could hardly resist the chance to practice her devious trade. She grabbed the hem of her skirt and flipped it upward, revealing that it was a dark grey coat, matching her boots and trousers, when reversed. She adjusted it to expose the hood and sleeves of the garment. Tawna pulled the full jacket over her shoulders, fastened the buttons, and continued her approach to the old castle nestled within the Midnight Mountains.

Description
  The day was uncharacteristically sunny and clear for Gallowmere at Summer’s end, and a small caravan was currently making the most of the conditions on their circuit. Having left the thick forest that they had spent most of the prior day travelling through, they now rode over an open plain, not far off from the western coast. The occasional cottony cloud had drifted by to give some minor shade, though never truly hiding the sun; it was ideal travelling weather for the family of vendors. They had been journeying north within two wagons, one was a ramshackle collection of chairs, tables, and, wrapped and protected within, a fine assortment of liquors with tags of varying prices attached; among the other incidentals was a finely painted sign that simply read “The Walking Shell”. The second was a cozy little trailer, just big enough to comfortably fit the family and their current guest for an evening’s rest. The patriarch of the family took the reins of the former, and the matriarch took the latter. Within the mobile abode, three children sat in darkness with only a small candle and narrow gaps in the wooden walls to provide light as the windows had all be fastened shut.

  The children were all of a comparable height, and shared the same sun-kissed skin tones, with pale freckles landing upon their cheeks. Their clothes were loose and of a homemade, stitch-worked, and threadbare quality. Among them was a boy in a green vest overtop a similarly colored, albeit paler, shirt; his teal hair was pushed up and towards the back of his head, as if sculpted by a fierce wind rushing past him. His eyes were wide, and his mouth was stretched out into a grin as he regarded the ramblings of his sister sitting to his left.

  “...And there’s something truly terrible inside that lone castle. A BEAST! She’s got fangs, RAZOR SHARP ones!!” She had called out in impish delight. “And massive paws with KILLER claws!” She continued, waving her arms and wiggling her fingers for emphasis. She wore a loose pink dress overtop a pair of faded and torn trousers. Her magenta hair had a small ponytail tied with a bow at the top of her head, though the rest of her hair was wild and erratic, like a crack of lightning. She was staring down at her other brother as she relayed her story, relishing in the dread it caused him.

  “C-cut it out Rosée!” He had stammered out. “I don’t like this story!” The young boy had whimpered, much to the amusement of his siblings. He was in a light purple coat that was far too baggy on him, even by the standards of the triplets, to the point where the grey shorts he wore could scarcely be seen underneath. His violet hair mostly hung down off his head, but a few errant strands had defiantly stood up in a mess, as though it had been patted down by the heavy rain. His brother and sister had started to laugh at his scared response, much to his annoyance.

  All of the noise the trio had been making disturbed their current company from her slumber, though they hadn’t noticed it in their reverie. Before fully gaining consciousness, she took stock of her surroundings, noting the motion of the room, she realized they were in mid-travel. From the slight light peeking through the cracked wood of the room, she gathered that it was midday, and from the current behaviour of the triplets, she realized they were already enamoured with the fable she had privately shared with the young girl the night prior. She had slowly and quietly crept from her bunk, like a shadow in the dark, she went unnoticed by the three children. Quickly licking the tips of her thumb and forefinger, she reached for the candle resting between the trio and snuffed it out. In the dark she had whispered out in sinister tone “And she’s said to sacrifice children to her monstrous apatite!”

  The blood in their veins turned to ice in the terror of the moment, as the three kids let out a scream, and they fled from the room. The door on the side of the caravan flung open in the blink of an eye, making a loud “THUD” as it connected with the side of the wagon before the hinges could even creak, and the three youngsters made way to their mother, currently distressed by the abrupt outburst, at the head of the vehicle. Their unexpected guest caught the giggle in her throat before it could ring out, her own surprise overwhelming the humor of the moment as she quickly realized her mistake, and her apprehension turned to panic when the cries of the children resonated out.

  “MOM!! MOM! MOM!!!” The triplets had shouted out in a discordant cacophony, climbing their way up to the driver's seat.

  “What in the world has gotten into you three?!?!” Their mother called out as she brought the coach to a halt. The children had simultaneously started rambling on about what had happened in the interior of their ride, each telling different half-truths about what they had been doing before some unknown “thing” had jumped out at them. Irritated at the scattered tale of her children, their mother bellowed out “CALM DOWN!! Just one at a time! One at a time.”

  “Uhm... Me first?” A shy voice from behind eked out from the agent of this discontent.

  The three then started up with all manner of exclamations, now realizing whom was responsible for the shock. Some were angered, others were denial about the fear she had caused. The mother had started to get annoyed at the whole display and once again raised her voice, calling out “ENOUGH! GLOBOX!!”

  The wagon ahead, oblivious to the excitement of the day, had continued on before skidding to a stop at the sound of the call. Looking back, the driver had seen the other wagon parked in the road and simply yelled back “WHAT?!?”

  “Kids, go ride with your dad.” Their mother had instructed.

  “But mom...” came the quick response from Rosée.

  “No ‘buts’, get going.” Her mother interrupted. “I want to have a private talk with Tawna.”

  “Oooohhh, you're in trouble.” The boy in green taunted as he dismounted, which was met with an extended tongue from Tawna.

  “Keep it moving Drizzle!” His mother, once again, instructed. The trio had made their way up to the other wagon, as their guest climbed into the passenger seat with their mother.

  When they made their approach, their father had yelled out in joy “Oh, I see! You kids wanted to spend some quality time with the old man.” as a great grin spread across his face.

  He was a large and affable figure, dark of skin, with combed back blue hair, a mustache that had been curled up at the ends covering his face, and a round earring pierced his left ear. He wore a blue fez cap, a loose-fitting white ruffled shirt with intricate patterns resembling sea waves, and a cerulean vest to complete the look. He easily helped hoist each of his children up with him, for while the attire would highlight his paunch, the loose sleeves hid strong, burly arms.

  “And here you go Mr. Mist.” Globox said, placing his hat on the head of the purple-clad boy. He then proceeded to offer them a handful from the bag of grapes he had been snacking on, they each accepted with thanks, and he began to ask his children: “Now what did the grape say when he was stepped on?”

  “Daaaaaad... you tell this one every time!” Drizzle had moaned out.

  “Nothin’...” Globox continued, ignoring his son’s protest. “...He just let out a little WINE!”

  The laughter he got out of Mist was well worth the groans he got from his other son and daughter. As the grin grew ever wider across his face, and the fear that previously took strangle hold on the children had melted away, they continued on their journey. The carriage behind them had also resumed its course as the two women sat atop it.

  Like her husband, the mother was tall, of tan complexion, she had an ample figure, magenta hair was tucked under a pink bonnet hat, and hoop earrings flanked her head. The ruffles of a pale dress hung off her shoulders, covered from the waist down by a coral colored skirt with similar patterns to her husband’s shirt, and a dark purple bodice overtop both. She had a stern look as she eyed her current companion.

  The young lady next to her possessed an alabaster skin tone, an hourglass figure, long blond hair that flowed off her head in waves down to her shoulder blades, and emerald eyes that shimmered in the sunlight. A pink wide-neck top with short puff sleeves, a wide blue skirt with a slight part at the front cascading out from her waist, and dark grey trousers tucked into matching boots adorned her. She was desperately trying to avoid eye contact with her friend, when she meekly declared “I’m sorry, Uglette.”

  “I’m not the one you should be apologizing to.” Uglette shot back. “I told you I didn’t want my kids hearing those ghost stories.”

  “Oh, come on! If it wasn’t me telling those tall tales, it just would’ve been someone else.” Tawna had taken the defensive with her friend. “At least I gave them the kid friendly version.”

  “The ‘kid friendly’ version that has them running and screaming out of the wagon?” The mother had shot back.

  “Well, that was just me spooking them.” The blonde said with a slight smile as she finally made eye contact. She immediately regretted it as she glanced upon a sight that could test the resolve of even the most stalwart warrior; the look of a disappointed mother.

  “Tawna, the kids like you...” Uglette had started in a frustrated tone. “...and we wouldn’t have let you come along if we didn’t trust you around them. So, when I tell you not to tell ‘em those ghost stories, and you go and tell ‘em anyway; then we have a problem.”

  “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” Said Tawna, as her voiced had softened. “And I’ll apologize to the kids when we set up camp.”

  “Good.” Uglette said surprisingly cheerfully, and she started rustling Tawna’s hair. “I would’ve hated to leave you on the side of the road.”

  “You would NOT!” Tawna said in shock, as she lightly swatted at her friends' hand.

  “I would, to anyone who’s a problem for my children at least.” Uglette replied calmly.

  “Well, it’s a good thing I won’t be a problem for them anymore.” Said Tawna nervously, as she took a sip from her canteen.

  “And if you impress us, you might end up being their godmother.” Uglette responded.

  The statement had caused Tawna to gasp mid-gulp, and some water had gone down her wind pipe. She sat there, coughing on her drink for a moment and slightly tearing up from it, before she could finally ask through her newly sore throat. “You’re not serious, are you?”

  “No.” Uglette said with a smile. “But that was payback for scaring my kids.”

  With tensions now eased between the two, the rest of their long ride could be passed with a friendly conversation. As midday had faded into twilight the caravan had reached their destination, the small village of Zephyr sitting on a bay known as Breeze Harbour. The bay was large, housing several small islands and leading directly to the nearby Midnight Mountain range, along the side of which one could see an old gothic castle peeking through the seafoam mist and above the neighboring woods. Setting up camp just outside of town and just on the forest’s edge, the family had started a small bonfire to cook their evening meal before turning in for the night; Tawna had taken this time to offer her apology to the triplets, and was met with their forgiveness. As the stew had started to bubble in the pot, Globox had just finished unpacking the sign that rested in his wagon and was hoisting it onto its latch on the roof with Tawna’s help. Now on clear display, the nearby locals of Zephyr could see that the Walking Shell would be open for business the following day.

  Over the course of the next day, Tawna and the family had started unloading the supplies from the wagons in order to set up shop. The one that had housed all of the accoutrements for the nomad bar could also open its side to function as a counter for the customers. Chairs and tables were spread out, a canvas sheet tied to the nearby trees provided a canopy, and a menu with a display of drinks was set up behind the counter; the makeshift storefront provided a warm, cozy, and very welcoming atmosphere. The day had provided one or two customers here and there for the family to host, but evening was when the real business hours could start. With the sun dipping towards the ocean in the west, turning the sky a bright red as dark clouds gathered overhead, a large collection of villagers had made their way the bar.

  Around the back of the wagons, the triplets were working hard to clean the glasses as quickly as the customers could drain them, stealing the occasional frightened glances at the sinister, looming castle that was the subject of the story Tawna had shared with them. Globox stood behind the counter pouring drinks, and enjoying a conversation with another Gallowmere traveller he had met on many other separate occasions. Uglette and Tawna were weaving their way between tables and patrons to serve the drinks to their customers. As the hours went on, the children were put to bed, patrons had begun to disperse for the evening, and a calm atmosphere had taken over.

  A rough looking man with messy brown hair, patches of stubble bursting from his face, a thick leather coat, and a dark green backpack hanging from his shoulders had made his way to the temporary tavern, giving Tawna a wink and a grin as he made his way past her. She narrowed her eyes at him before turning up her nose and walking away, and with a slight shrug, the man continued to the bar area.

  “Who’s the new girl?” asked a man already sitting at the counter. He had long, dirty blonde hair, a goatee beard, and sky-blue eyes. He was adorned in a yellowish tan cloak with a fur collar, and black spots covering the cloth. Nothing else of his person could be seen, save for the bow slung over his shoulder.

  “Oh, that’s Tawna.” Globox simply answered, as he filled the man's cup with a personal whisky that wasn’t on the menu.

  “That’s it? C’mon, what’s the story?” The blonde pressed on.

  “We’ve known her a while. First met her back in Innsgobb, but we picked her up for this trip over in Terrace Village.” He answered.

  “That can’t be al-” The blonde was cut off as the brunette man shouldered passed him.

  “G’day, mate.” He said with a thick accent to the barkeep. “Won’t need ya long, jus’ pickin’ up somethin’ fer mah boss.” He continued pulling off and reaching into his pack to pull out a small list and a pouch of coins. He handed the former to Globox.

  “HEY! Do you mind?!?” The archer asked the crude man heatedly.

  “Calm down, Hunter.” Globox said as he looked over the list he had been given.

  “Don’t mind one bit, mate.” The brown-haired man answered with narrowed eyes and a smug grin. “Jus don’t go botherin’ me again.”

  Hunter had risen up from his seat to meet the man eye to eye, a sneer formed at his lip in his irritation, which was met with the same smug grin that only served to challenge him. This staring contest lasted for a few minutes, as each man waited for the other to make a move. The tense stare-down was interrupted with a loud clattering sound as Globox heaved a crate of assorted bottles onto the counter.

  “You boys wanna fight? You take it outside.” The barkeeper declared sternly. “But first, YOU, pay up.” He looked dead on at the stranger, who handed him the pouch, the smile faded from his face. Globox counted the coins as he leaned over, putting the better part of his weight on the box so the customer could not take it prematurely. Hunter sat back down, returning to his drink and absentmindedly stealing glances of the blonde waitress, which didn’t go unnoticed.

  “She’s too good for ya, mate.” Said the brute.

  “Shut up.” Came Hunter’s simple reply.

  “Okay, you’re good.” Globox interrupted again. “Whoever your boss is, tell him ‘thanks for the business’ for me.”

  “Will do.” The brown-haired man said as he hoisted the crate up into his arms and left the bar, going out of his way to bump into Tawna one last time before leaving.

  Putting the encounter behind them, when a few minutes had passed Hunter started up once again. “So, you met Tawna in Innsgobb, but picked her up in Terrace Village. Sounds like she's got that wanderlust too.”

  “Come on, Hunter.” Globox said with a sigh. “You said you were headed south, right? Well we’re headed north, it just don’t work out for you. Besides, that creep got one thing right; she IS too good for you!” He finished, nudging his friends' shoulder.

  “Yeah, maybe.” Hunter said as he took a sip. “But I’ve always had a thing for blondes.” He continued as he got up and made his approach to the faire young lady.

  The night had winded down, and, during her reprieve, Tawna had taken a seat at an empty table, and was entertaining herself by walking a coin across the back of her fingers and flipping it from one hand to the other, when she noticed the man’s approach.

  “Can I help you?” She politely asked.

  “Well, I noticed you sittin’ off all by yourself,” Hunter started. “an’ I thought you looked kinda lonely, figured you might like the company.”

  “Oh, really?” Tawna with a light smile and half-lidded gaze. “How thoughtful.” Pocketing the coin, she stood up and leaned on the table. She went to cross her arms, but paused and held out her right hand expectantly. “I’m Tawna.”

  “Hunter.” He replied, taking her hand. Extending his arm had pushed his cloak to the side and revealed more of his attire; namely a leather wrist guard, a studded leather chest guard, a thick belt with a sheathed hunting knife, and a large quiver of arrows hanging just behind his hip with the arrow fletches extending past his right flank.

  “So, Hunter,” Tawna started, taking her hand back and crossed her chest. “what brings you to our little establishment?”

  “Oh, me and Globox go way back.” Hunter said with a smile. “I travel through Gallowmere a lot, so our paths tend to cross. I always stop by to say ‘hi’.”

  “A wanderer, huh?” Tawna asked, feigning interest. “I guess that explains the protection,” she continued, tapping a finger to his armoured chest. “must get pretty dangerous out there?”

  “Heh, nothing I can’t handle.” The blond man said with a slightly smug grin.

  “And I bet nothing gets past your eagle eyes, eh sharpshooter?” The blond woman said, obviously stealing a glance at his bow, then closing the distance ever so slightly.

  “Well, I don’t like to brag...” He trailed off with a glance to the side.

  “Boy, I’d just hate to be on the receiving end of one of these.” She said as she stepped back and began twirling of his arrows in her left hand.

  “Huh? Hey, Wai-” The archer exclaimed, looking down to his quiver. “Heh... Would you believe I let ya do that?” He asked with an awkward grin and flushed cheeks.

  “We can go with that, if you want.” She smirked at him and gave a quick wink.

  Then, a large, meaty hand clapped Hunter on the back and startled him. Standing next to him was Globox, with a wide smile adorning his face.

  “Sorry to interrupt,” He started in a warm tone “whatever THIS is, but we gotta start closing up shop for the evening."

  “Really?” Hunter asked, deadpan.

  “Hey man, we gotta get to sleep at some point. It’s getting' late, and besides, you got an early start south tomorrow.” The lively man answered.

  “Better luck next time.” Tawna said, offering the arrow back.

  “Nah,” Hunter said with a wave of his hand. “keep it. I let you take it, remember?”

  “Oh, thank you so much, eagle eye.” She began toying with it again. “Maybe we’ll meet on another stop, then you can show how good a shot you are.”

  “I’d like that.” He replied. “You have yourself a good evening, Miss Tawna.”

  “You too.” She answered. “Until next time.”

  The two parted ways, Hunter felt confident in his first meeting with the young lady, and Tawna was amused with the antics she had pulled on the travelling archer. He proceeded back to town for a night's rest, and she helped store all the accessories of the shop for the evening with the newly acquired arrow snuggly notched in her belt.

  With the customers back in their homes, and as the parents of the nomad clan were getting ready to join their children's slumber in the wagon, Tawna was making her way into the forest, now carrying a light grey satchel slung across her shoulder.

  “Hey, night-owl!” Globox called out to his friend, completely unfazed by her wanderings. “Don’t get lost on your walk!”

  “I never do!” She responded cheerfully.

  “And remember to actually turn in at some point BEFORE dawn, we’ll be needing you again tomorrow.” He called out.

  “Goodnight, Globox!” Tawna half-heartedly called back, brushing off the statement.

  “Goodnight Tawna!” said the father, closing the door to his wagon for a well-earned evening of rest.

  And with the door now shut, the blonde started to pick up her pace and began to hurry through the woods, almost skipping, as she hummed a melody to herself. The trees grew tall and thick, a lesser traveller could easily find themselves irrevocably lost within, but Tawna was sure of the direction of her destination, and she stayed true to her path. When the canopy of leaves would thin out and allow for a view of the nearby mountains, she could easily spy the castle that was her target. Gallowmere was a land full of myths and legends, a good number of which were surprisingly true, and when she had learned of this castle, said to once be the home of some Queen from the olden days of the land, shunned by the locals, gone untouched for hundreds of years, and potentially filled with the riches of old royalty, she could hardly resist the chance to practice her devious trade. She grabbed the hem of her skirt and flipped it upward, revealing that it was a dark grey coat, matching her boots and trousers, when reversed. She adjusted it to expose the hood and sleeves of the garment. Tawna pulled the full jacket over her shoulders, fastened the buttons, and continued her approach to the old castle nestled within the Midnight Mountains.