Discover Top Posts Tagged with #kejacke

Rogue Witch

I wrote how Jacke and Nef first met because I’ve lost control of my life

Preview: Assassinations were always quick work to him.This time it was a witch. He had been told there was one hiding around these woods, perhaps an affiliate of the Nightmare Court. They were creating weird, terrible poisons; homemade and so expertly done his guild hadn’t been able to figure them out or find any counter reagents. They were lethal, and in the wrong hands, downright deadly. Many people had fallen victim to them- and if the Nightmare Court having it wasn’t bad enough, cases of similar toxins had been reported to be showing up on bandit weaponry and on the kills of centaurs in the area, suggesting that this witch was expanding their selling territory.And without a viable cure, this situation could only get worse.The guild had suggested he ask around the Watchful Source and see what he could find. The locals perhaps had dealt with this person before...

Zinder Slope was a humid nook nestled high against the side of a great mountain. The jungle canopy was more spread out and scarce compared to the density of Caledon- marking the end of the jungle and the beginnings of the vast, Brisban Wildlands. Rocky crags and ragged ravines carved through the landscape, vines and all sorts of wild vegetation climbing up the stone walls as they reached for sunlight. Nestled within a small clearing, a Sylvari village.

It was less of a village and more of a rest stop, he supposed. Watchful Source held mainly merchants and blacksmiths that sold supplies and repairs to weary travelers passing through- prepping for the inevitably long trek through the wildlands. There were many Valiants of the Hunt stationed here, their inner calling taking them away from the Pale Tree’s roots. They wandered around as almost self-proclaimed Wardens, banding together to stave off trouble. As he heard, there seemed to be a lot of it out here.

Jacke wasn’t here to join them, but he was here to help. In his hand, he held a small piece of paper- notes he took on his briefing. The guild had sent him out here on a small mission. It wasn’t anything huge. In fact, he’d done stuff like this countless times before.

Assassinations were always quick work to him.

This time it was a witch. He had been told there was one hiding around these woods, perhaps an affiliate of the Nightmare Court. They were creating weird, terrible poisons; homemade and so expertly done his guild hadn’t been able to figure them out or find any counter reagents. They were lethal, and in the wrong hands, downright deadly. Many people had fallen victim to them- and if the Nightmare Court having it wasn’t bad enough, cases of similar toxins had been reported to be showing up on bandit weaponry and on the kills of centaurs in the area, suggesting that this witch was expanding their selling territory.

And without a viable cure, this situation could only get worse.

The guild had suggested he ask around the Watchful Source and see what he could find. The locals perhaps dealt with this person before.

The first villager he saw happened to be a young looking Sylvari, probably just venturing forth out of the Grove for the first time. He could sense her inexperience and unbridled spirit. She had fuchsia skin and deep, iris leaves that swept back over her head away from her bright blue eyes.

“Excuse me,” he said as he approached, offering up a charming smile. “I’m new around here and was wondering if you could tell me a little bit about this place?”

Her face perked up excitedly, seeming to be delighted to be asked a question. “Oh! Welcome! This is Watchful Source! Uh, I’m not very certain on its exact history but there are a lot of Valiants here that are drawn to this place… Are you on a Wyld Hunt?”

“No, not currently,” he answered politely. “I was only curious as to what makes this place such a magnet. I see many Sylvari gathered here, so far from the Grove…” He let out a wistful sigh.

“I believe they are drawn to all the bad energy… Some of the older folks around here say the soil is stained in much blood… And all manner of villains hide in these woods.”

“What sorts of villains?” he prodded tactfully.

She shook her head, making a face. “The more prominent are the human bandits. They have several little hideaways and camps out here around the mountain. I think they want the Skritt treasure… or something. And then of course there’s the Inquest lab that is hidden somewhere in the marshes to the south. And recently the Court has begun popping up.”

“The Nightmare Court you say? Oh, that’s terrible…”

“It is… They mostly stay within the ravines and don’t usually bother us but sometimes they slink out of the shadows and attack… it’s very scary. Especially their wolves. They destroy all the wildlife and creatures around. Their claws befoul the area.”

“’Befoul’?” he asked, curious to the choice of words.

“Yes. It seems that whatever they touch seems to wither and die. If you get struck by them, you become awfully sick.”

“Sick? Like its… poison?” the Sylvari thief fished hopefully.

“Something like that. The mender probably knows more about it than I do.”

Mender. Now that was a term he hadn’t heard in a while. A Sylvan doctor was what it was, specializing in healing plant life and creatures born of the Pale Mother. “Where can I find them?”

The girl made another face, this time one of unease and uncertainty. “Um… I’m not sure…”

“Do you know where they live?”

She shook her head. “No… Somewhere nearby I think? She only comes into town once a week, sometimes less than that. People leave notes and stuff for her on the board and she takes them with her. The shop woman over there sells her potions, she can probably tell you more.”

Jacke thanked the sapling for her time and smiled again, backing away. The next person he was directed to had yellowish green skin, somewhat like his own. However, she had long, ruby red petals and leaves protruding from the bridge of her nose, slightly obscuring one of her eyes.

“Hello, traveler,” she greeted. Her formality suggested she was older than the previous Sylvari. Her dark eyes twinkled as she glanced behind him. “I don’t know what you said to poor, little Cianthe over there, but she looks completely enamored.”

“What?” he questioned, looking over his shoulder. The small sapling he had spoken to appeared to be staring after him with big, doe eyes, giving a sigh. She was so wrapped up in her trance she didn’t even seem to realize she was blatantly staring. He huffed amusedly, “Saplings… They do seem to get easily fascinated with new creatures, don’t they?” He felt old just speaking like this. He was hardly a sapling but nor was he up there with the first or second born Sylvari. He hoped he wouldn’t grow to be as dull as them.

“They most certainly do… Was there something I could do for you, stranger?”

“Yes, I was informed you sell potions. I was curious about them.”

The shopkeeper nodded enthusiastically, turning behind her and rifling through a large, burlap sack. “Ah, yes they just arrived this morning. Fresh brewed elixirs, good for any sort of ailment. Do you plan on going far?”

“There is a possibility,” he fudged. “I’m worried about these Nightmare wolves Cianthe just told me about… She said their claws may be dipped in some sort of poison? Dreadful business…”

“Yes, that is correct. The Courtiers have been getting creative it would seem. I think it’s their fraternizing with the bandits. The humans use bad berries to coat their weapons and to slip into the food and drink of their enemies, but it doesn’t affect us tree-folk. Whatever the Court has is not friendly to our kind, and it seems to affect humans just as well. Perhaps a modification of some kind, I’m not entirely sure. It’s all guesses.”

Sounded like his target.

“Will these potions help against the poison?” he asked.

She nodded. “Certainly! The mender studied the claws of the beasts and came up with a cure. These potions will definitely do the trick. I wouldn’t go anywhere near the ravine without one or two.”

That didn’t sound like his target. His guild had resources all over Tyria and no matter who they sent samples to, no one could tell them how to counteract the poison. If a simple mender could do it then surely the poison the Nightmare Court was using wasn’t made by the witch.

He promptly purchased two of the elixirs, handing the sylvan woman a small sack of coins. She gave him a quizzical look as she thumbed through the coins.

“I… don’t have change for this much.”

“Keep the change. Give a tip to the mender for me. She must be doing some good work.” Jacke dipped his head gratefully. “In fact, I was hoping I might be able to speak with her? I’m concerned about these advancements the Court seems to be making… And if they start using these tactics in other areas, it may be wise to make sure other villages are as prepared as you all seem to be.”

The woman blinked. “Yes, I suppose that makes sense… The mender is rather elusive, however… She only comes down for emergencies and when she needs supplies or is dropping off her stuff to me. I’d direct you to her cottage but… I don’t really know the way, exactly.”

“She doesn’t live in town?” he asked, slightly surprised. A mender usually stuck close to wherever their duties lie. If she didn’t live here where would she live?

“She likes her privacy, I think… Not much of a talker, that one. Her house is somewhere deep in the woods just north of the lagoon. But she isn’t very fond of being bothered.”

“Huh… Well this a rather important matter. I’m sure she’d find an exception to this?”

The unease in the shopkeeper’s expression did not relinquish and she only made an indistinguishable noise. “Maybe? I’d say you should wait till she comes into town again but she was just here this morning… You’d have to wait until next week for her to come back around.”

“That would take quite a while and I’m rather pressed for time…”

The woman seemed to be debating something within her mind. After a few moments, she rustled a few of the gold coins he had given her and placed them into his palm. “Here. Give her your tip yourself, that might help her mood a little… She also likes unique things, rare plants and such… I don’t know if you have anything like that, but any little bit helps.”

“You make it sound like she might be dangerous,” he laughed.

The seriousness did not falter in the shopkeeper’s eyes. Upon seeing it, his cheerful smile faded away.

“… She is not someone I’d trifle with.”

He stood there in mild shock, befuddled as to how a mender- a person meant to be a devoted healer- could spark such a chilling reputation. Dangerous was not a word he would typically throw around someone who was supposed to be saving lives.

“Uh… alright. Well, I guess I’ll be going then.”

The woman sent him off with a small, nervous wave, and he was aware of her eyes boring into his back his entire way down the path. As he made his way to the outskirts of the village he could see from the high ground the lagoon. Its waters were a deep, dark turquoise, some places sporting patches of sour green algae. He could only see a small stretch of it, but it appeared to go deeper into the jungle ahead. The mender lived somewhere over there.

He looked to the sky, estimating the time to be around late afternoon. Perhaps he’d be able to smell a fire or some sort of scent that would indicate a house was nearby. He’d poke around at least until nightfall before calling it a day.

Jacke hardly hesitated going into the jungle, masking his presence and sliding through the brush like a shadow. He wasn’t familiar with this area, and there was still the possibility the Nightmare Court was up and about. Not to mention there were bandits and the Inquest to look out for as well. It was no wonder this place was considered a lawless land…

But as he traversed through the dense thickets he found no sign of his person of interest. Just the wildlife, which only moved and fled on the off chance they caught sight of him. He was more used to slinking through urban areas. Tall buildings, crowded streets… The woods, though his birthplace, was a bit different than what he was accustomed to. It took a while for him to adjust to moving upwind so that his scent wouldn’t give him away, and hiding things on his person- such as his bright kerchief- that stood out in the predominately green landscape.

He stopped to stake out and rest for a bit within the boughs of a tree, gloved hands gripping into the rough bark as he made his way up into the canopy to hide. As he moved higher, he felt his palm catch on something sticky. He instinctively flung his wrist to be rid of it, only examining it when it became apparent it wasn’t going to come off.

The substance was silky and white- threading together in a large clump on his fingers. He made a grimace, smearing the spider web onto the tree branch beside him before continuing his ascent.

After he got nestled into his perch, he scanned the environment critically, muffled groaning echoing from his person as he observed more webs weaving through the branches- large and draping all around him. He hoped he hadn’t disturbed some sort of nest…

As he thought it, a shadow moved through the underbrush of the forest floor, causing a small racket as it threw up a tiny whirlwind of leaves in its wake. It skittered on multiple, thin legs. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what was down there… Jacke felt himself scowl, pulling a knife from his boot. He closed one eye and waited, wondering if he’d be able to make a shot like that from here. Of course, the spider would have to come out of the bushes first…

For several minutes, there was nothing but silence. The spider did not return. He eventually let down his knife and clutched it in his lap, slightly disappointed. Now what was he going to do to entertain himself? His head reclined back against the bark of the wood, scratching at his scalp. His eyes turned upwards to the sky, small flecks of bright blue peeking through the gaps in the leaves. He probably should have picked up a snack before he went on this little trek…

His thoughts of food were abruptly cut short at the sound of a snapping twig.

Eyes darting downwards, he reflexively readied to throw his knife again, watching the underbrush wriggle as something threatened to come through.

He found himself reeling back his instinct to throw when a woman appeared, a basket slung over her arm.

She was incredibly petite, slender... And he realized he hadn’t seen her coming because her skin was a dark, dusky green color- blending in near seamlessly with her surroundings. The only brightness to her was the paleness of her hair, drawn up in a loosely closed bud surrounded by vines that hung to frame her small, round face.

She wore traditional Sylvan garb- homegrown petals that covered her chest and fanned around her waist like a dress. Accentuated fronds extended from her shoulders and several places off her back. Her expression was stoic and grim, eyes a deep, calculating amber. The irate glint to them told him all he needed to know.

This was the mender.

She stood at the edge of the clearing, looking around searchingly. Upon deciding nothing was amiss, she wandered over to an overturned log and struggled to lift it away, revealing a damp patch of wild mushrooms underneath. The mender crouched and went to work, pulling out stalks and placing them in her wicker basket.

For a few moments, he merely observed, debating on whether to say something or just follow her around until she led him to her house. He pressed himself against the tree, stilling his breathing and waiting. Something prickly brushed against the side of his face and he fought back the urge to snort it away, nose twitching. He glanced off to the side, wondering what it was.

A large, brown, hairy appendage had come to rest next to the side of his cheek. Jacke let his eyes travel upwards, taking in the seven other legs and the great mandibles of a spider. The creature was oddly still, and he noted that in many places, the hairs on its legs had been rubbed clean off. Strange protrusions were coming from its joints, yellow and orange in color.

He squinted, and after a couple seconds of the spider not reacting, waved his hand in front of its face. Its many black and beady eyes did not spark or illicit a response. Not even its fangs moved. Jacke confirmed that the creature must be dead. But it didn’t just appear out of nowhere… And it hadn’t been there before…

He adjusted his position to move away from the corpse, gaze returning down to the clearing.

The mender was as he had left her, bent and back turned to him- the many, long fronds coming off her back a dark purplish hue. She rummaged for a few minutes longer before tucking her findings away on her arm, digging through the basket to pull out what appeared to be a piece of charcoal. She moved just beneath the tree he was resting in and began to draw something on the trunk.

The dead creature beside him began to shudder.

Its mandibles began to move, running over its face and rousing it from what seemed to be a deep sleep. Its legs flared up, stretching. He braced his knife as the spider finally acknowledged his presence, skittering onto the branch and facing him.

With near lightning speed, he planted the knife directly into its head.

However, the spider did not stop. It started thrashing under his weight, legs trying to pin him down. Its abdomen flexed as it attempted to catch him within a web. The noise of the struggle did not go unnoticed, and soon enough he heard the mender call up to the trees.

“If you come down I’ll tell it to stop.”

Tell it to stop? Was she controlling it?

Jacke let out a frustrated grunt, taking back his knife and rolling off the branch to land to the ground below in a readied crouch. The mender pivoted to him and the spider followed soon after, stopping at her raised hand.

“Who are you?” she asked gruffly, eyes drilling into his head.

“Nobody of consequence,” he answered in good humor, hoping it would make her more approachable.

The mender returned his quip with a cold glare.

He stood and brushed himself off, cautiously putting away his knife while certain her eyes were on him so she knew he meant her no harm. Standing on level ground with her, he found she was incredibly short in stature- at least a head beneath him. She seemed so small that a breeze could blow her away…

“You’re not from around here,” she observed, giving him a quick up and down look over.

“No, I am not.”

“Well? What's your business? I haven’t got all day.”

So snappy…

“I was told I could find the mender of Watchful Source in these woods. I presume you are her?”

She sighed impatiently. “Yes, yes, that’s me. What is it you want? What did those silly Valiants down there tell you I could make? A love potion for your dearest of hearts? A hex to put on your rival? Or did you just want your fortune told?”

He frowned, a bit bewildered. “Uh… No… I was just wondering if you could walk me through an antidote…”

Her eyes suddenly became less hard, a spark of intrigue entering them.

Jacke reached into one of his pouches and drew out one of the bottles he had procured from the shopkeeper earlier, tossing it to her. She lurched forward to catch it in both hands, almost dropping it. Upon turning it over in her palm, the glare returned.

“This is mine.”

“So I understand,” he replied. “They told me it does wonders for the poison the Nightmare Court seems to be fond of using lately.”

“Yes, that’s the idea,” she huffed, tossing the elixir back to him unceremoniously.

He caught it with ease. “Well as I told the merchant, I am concerned that courtiers will start using this toxin in other areas. I was hoping that maybe I could… purchase the recipe for this potion from you to give to other places tormented by the Court.”

She stared at him with a blank expression, emotions clouded from him. He noticed her jaw clench.

“It’s not for sale.”

It was his turn to glare now, brow scrunching in confusion. One would think a mender would jump on the opportunity to have their work used and recognized by other menders… He shook the shock from himself and rummaged through his purse for his money. “I have plenty to compensate for it. Would this change your mind?”

He held out his palm, showing off a sizable pile of glittering gold coins.

The mender stared intently. She seemed to be considering his offer. He watched her breathe deeply, tossing the idea around in her mind. But after a moment she took a resolved step back.

“It’s not for sale.”

He kept his palm open. “May I ask why not?”

“I don’t know you. You say you have good intentions, but you could be lying. For all I know you’ll sell off my recipe to every poor sod that needs it and I will see no return from it. You could also claim credit and no one would be the wiser. It’s not for sale.”

Snappy and incredibly distrusting. Jacke tucked the coins back into his fist. “Perhaps I could convince you?”

The mender narrowed her gaze suspiciously. “And how would you intend to do that?”

“Well, I might be sticking around here for a while… Could you use any help? It is just you out here, isn’t it?”

He was getting side tracked. He was supposed to be finding the witch dealing the poison, not making friends. But the antidote was important and he would rather earn her permission to share her cure before handing it over to his guild to dissect within a few days. Her work still deserved respect, after all.

She considered the proposal, lips puckering into a pursed, slight pout. The mender looked to her spider minion and it turned and scurried away up the tree. When her attention returned to him she let out a small sigh.

“If you intend to stay in Watchful Source, then… I will find something for you to do. But just because you help me does not mean I will end up giving you my recipe. Understand?”

He nodded excitedly, just happy he had a chance to try. “Yes! How should I reach you? What would you like me to do?”

His enthusiasm and wish to dive right in seemed to surprise her. The mender fidgeted unsurely, swaying on her legs in thought. “There is… a board in the village. They leave orders tacked on it for me to collect. Each morning you are here, go and see if there are any messages for me. If there are, take them and bring them to this tree-” she reached out and patted the trunk, charcoal marking still etched into the bark. “-and I will meet you. And if I feel at any point you have anything less than good intentions, I will let the spiders have you.”

Sounded fair.

“Then what?” he asked.

“Then…” she trailed, giving a moment to think. “If I have thought up any chores for you to do I will let you come with me to do them.”

He could do that. He was sure the guild would understand the small diversion. Maybe he could get her to tell him a little bit about the properties of the poison the Court was using? Any little leads helped.

“What should I call you?” he piped as it looked as though she was turning to leave.

She stopped and stared at the forest floor, an awkward edge creeping in her tone when she answered.

“My name is Nefirhea.”

“Well, uh, before you go,” he huffed, selecting a few coins from his palm, “I wanted you to have this.” He reached out in indication for her to come take them.

The suspicion came back as she shuffled the few steps over, holding out her hand. He dropped the coins into them and she peered at them intensely.

“A tip for the potions I bought earlier.”

Her nervousness suggested that people didn’t do this sort of thing often. “… Thank you…?” she finally said, looking up to stare at him, voice tapering off quietly.

“Kejacke,” he said, answering her insinuated question. “People just call me Jacke.”

“Well, uh… thank you, Jacke.” She put the coins in her basket. Again, she turned to leave, this time a bit hurriedly.

Despite her not being able to see it he gave a little wave. “See you tomorrow!”

She didn’t look back or reply, her form simply disappearing into the brush she had first come from. He listened to her steps fade off into the distance before taking note of the tree and the marking upon it. It looked like some sort of rune… He couldn’t decipher it. Part of him debated copying it to see if someone in town could tell him more about it, but their lack of knowledge on the mender’s whereabouts and methods alluded they weren’t going to be a much better source of information.

He let out a long breath, opting to leave it and save it as a question for another day. It appeared he would be spending quite a bit of time with this mender anyways. He’d have plenty of time to pester her.

Jacke gave one last look to the area Nefirhea had vanished into, noting the direction in his mind. Then he turned and left the same way he came in, emerging at the edges of Watchful Source about twenty minutes later. It was dusk, and the sun cast bright pink streaks across the sky. Satisfied with his work for the day, the thief found lodging with some Valiants, and spent the rest of his evening writing in his log and making note of all the information he had gathered thus far.

Tomorrow would hopefully yield more leads...

#kejacke

Trending Tags

Recently Viewed Tags

#kejacke