Sean's story
Staring out the window while it rattled, letting a freezing breeze in through the small cracks. He sighed as he watched another gust of wind take the tips off the snow drifts, swirling them around town square like a magic spell. Candles flickering off the fresh powder along the roadsides. A light clink pulled him away from his thoughts as the barmaid dropped off another round. He gave her a half sincere smile, inhaling deeply the aroma wafting off the spiced mead.
"So, looks like you'll be spendin' te night with us afta all, aye boy?" A firm slap on his shoulder.
"It would appear so." He sighed deeply, wafting the steam off his mug.
"Ahs not sa bad! Helluva lot warmer than out thar!"
He must have looked skeptical.
"I swear on me life!" The rugged man placed his hand over his heart. "Ta folk here'll give ya a good night!"
"Maybe so, but it's a night wasted when I could be working on my book."
He grazed his eyes over the small crowd huddled up trying to stay warm in the pub. The barmaid had walked over to throw some more wood on the fire. As the log landed it sent sparks scattering and the flames licked up toward the mantle, where a lone pair of glasses sat in front of a painting.
"Aye! See ya mirin' our fair founder thar!" The burly man slapped his shoulder again, he would definitely have a bruise tomorrow.
"Your founder, eh?" He sipped at the mead enjoying the warmth of it. He flicked his eyes back to the painting, an admittedly quite handsome man. He had short cropped hair off to one side, littered with an array of colours. Thick black framed glasses covered his eyes. He was in some sort of formal wear; as he dragged his eyes down he noticed the thick black frames sitting on the mantle, surrounded by aged flower petals.
"That he is! Rebuilt dis here town from da ground up!" The man knocked back his cup of ale in one swallow.
"Re-built? What happened to it the first time?" His own curiosity getting the best of him, he finally had to start asking questions. Maybe he could throw it in the book with a few tweaks to keep it interesting.
"Well now, dat be a story for ta ages! Best ye get ya fancy papers out ta write it down!"
He humoured the rugged man, at some point he should probably catch his name. But for now, he just dug his papers and ink out to take notes of anything mildly interesting. Once he was settled he gestured toward the man to go on with his story and sat back.
"Well, den! Gatha round ta hear da story of da founder of Hamtramck!" He watched as people who had huddled themselves around the fire left their warmth to listen to the tale.
"T'was a long time ago, Hamtramck bein run by ol' Lord Walter." People booed at the name, others yelled tiny quips about poorly running it.
"Aye, aye. Was running his people in ta da ground he was! Workin night n day, nary a break between em! Ol' fool thought thar was something after him! Neva strayed from dat keep ova yonda." He vaguely gestured toward the window.
Craning his neck a bit and leaning back in the chair, he could make out what appeared to be a ruined castle in the distance upon a hill.
"Everyone had ta work! Kids, even ol' folks! Mine up da ore! Chop some fresh lumber! Train for da enemies dat was for sure a'comin! 'They'll be here any day!' he'd say! 'They're after my head!'"
He was getting rather bored admittedly, the same old story of an evil king treating people unfairly; until a brave man stepped forward to put a stop to it.
"We had ta build a wall! Keep tha enemies out! Kicked his own family out for plotting against him! Declared war on everyone he set eyes on, da neighborin towns was gettin angry. Tried n tried to reason with him! Plenty o soldiers left they jobs, ran off inta da woods, never came back." He shook his head sadly as the barmaid dropped another round off for him.
"But, one day, he jus stopped showin up. Not a soul sawr em! Ta guards were runnin all da messages ta da townsfolk. An dey jus kept gettin more ridiculous! Fires had ta be out before sundown, even in winter! Smoke'd give away where we was! No women were ta get wit child! Would be anotha mouth ta feed an train! Had 'em made an example of right in da square there.." He had trailed off sadly to knock back the next round.
He felt his stomach clench at that one, imagining freezing women trying to hide their pregnancies and children.
"Aye..any child dat weren't old enough to contribute shared da same fate n same for those who tried ta speak up n stop it. Townfolk dwindled down ta almost nothin n den ta tradin stopped. Musta made some kinda demands n they was tired o dealin wit em. We was neva a farmin village, food ran scarce real quick. We was still fightin off all da people he declared war on! Bodies jus lay in da street, nobody had da strength or energy ta give em da burial dey deserved. Da final straw for lot a folk was da last message da guards ran to us. If da bodies were jus gon pile up like dat, we oughta make use of em!"
"You don't mean?" He realized he had leaned forward to listen more intently at some point.
"Aye lad, afraid I do. He had a village ta feed n defend. Guards piled those bodies up ta fix da breaks in da wall. Said if we was hungry to take our pick, but make sure dat fire was out before sundown!" He scoffed angrily.
His stomach was churning at the images being put into his brain. "So then, how did it get like this?" He thought back to the afternoon walk into the village. A great stone wall laying dilapidated and broken, clean homes and smiling faces; children playing in a creek running through the edge of town. A grand tower just past the centre of town decorated with flags and banners.
"Well! Afta da townfolk started rebelin, there weren't much ol' Walter could do. No one even seen da ol' cook in a year! Those left alive was barely dat. Folks went into hiding, some just plain left. Plans were bein made, ideas to storm da keep n take da mad kings head ourselves! But we was tired n broken." His shoulders were drooping and head hanging down as if reliving it right now.
"But.. your founder..?" He offered in a voice barely above a whisper.
"We was banded togetha, what was left of us. Stood out da keep! We would go out fightin togetha instead o hidin n withering any more! We called n called for da bastard to show emself but all we got was guards levelin bows at us from da wall. We was ready ta finish dis one way or anotha. Just as da arrows was about to loose, a purple cloud came ova da horizon! Thought we finally lost our heads! But it got closer n closer, da guards tried ta fire on it but dey bounced right off! Dey retreated back into da keep yellin all da way."
His mouth felt incredibly dry no matter how many rounds he pounded back. He felt like his eyes would bore holes in this man at any moment.
"Dat cloud followed em right inta da keep! We was watchin n waitin what felt like ages. Den, the cloud started to appear right in front o us! Da cloud gathered itself up n took da form of a man! He were tall, with crazy hair and some odd dress dats for sure." A few chuckles came from the crowd.
"But da most important thing was he had a jar in one hand filled up with some kinda black swirly stuff. And den in a boomin voice, enough to shake da leaves off da trees! He told us da king was dead! Said da black swirlies was what made da king crazy n ta get it out he had ta kill em! Course we thought he was crazy! Stormed da keep ourselves we did! Found da kings body, looked like it been dead a long time. Castle was trashed from da war but the inside looked like some kinda demon let loose!" Some of the older patrons rubbed at their arms, trying to forget the memories.
"We asked dat cloud man what da hell was goin on!? Said he felt a great evil n came ta take care of it. But now we was without a king, even if he was mad he still had da kingdom runnin! We begged dat cloud man to help us, he did! Boy oh, boy did he! We tore dat wall down first thing, he did some kinda magick! Cleaned da whole town and helped us rebuild it, magick lamps instead o fires n sent messages ova to da neighbors again ta let em know what happened. They was here in 2 weeks to help! All da while we was gettin to know dis cloud man. Called himself a wizard. We just called em a hero!" He slapped his knee and laughed heartily.
"Da town was startin to look like a home again n da cloud man left. Off ta do somethin wit dat swirly he said. Didn't get to properly thank him! So we built dat there tower in honour o da man. Was da least we could do! A few months after hed gone da town was happy again, tradin was back up, neighborin towns stationed folk here to help out. No new kings here! Just us folk deciding togetha what ta do n make it fair for everyone. But wouldn't ya know it one day we see dat same purple cloud comin over ta horizon! Everyone came running out to da tower to see em! Boy, he looked haggard dis time tho! Said it was somethin to do with the swirly. Well, he all but collapse then n there! So we dragged em on up to da bed in da tower."
A silence came over the room as everyone seemed to recall the day. He cast his gaze over to the glasses sitting on the mantle, he had to swallow the lump in his throat a few times.
"Aye, he was a good man. We owe em more den we could eva say."
"My god, thank you, sir for telling me all of this... I'm sure it can't be easy to relive it." He straightened up in his chair.
"If ya forget history ya doomed ta repeat it lad! Just make sure ya give us a bit o credit in ya book there!" He pointed to the blank pages littering the table.
"Of course! Please, sir, what is your name?"
"It's Str-"
SLAM
The door nearly flew off its hinges it was thrown open so hard. He snapped his head to the shadowy figure in the doorway. Jaw dropping as the man in the painting stumbled into the room. It was entirely silent as he tripped over himself and the floor, bumping into tables and people. Until he reached the mantle and placed his glasses on. Turning around, it was nearly the exact same image as the painting.
"I don't know how many times I have to tell you to stop using my glasses as some sort of tribute." A lovely baritone; not at all booming voice came out of him.
"H...how are...you're...alive?" He managed to sputter out as the man walked toward them.
"Alive...? Strubbe, are you telling people I died again?" He turned toward the burly man, 'Strubbe.'
"Well your da one who says ya dead on every level 'cept physical." He sipped at his drink not making eye contact.
This story is entirely based off an inside joke and yet I'm posting it anyway. Sorry.