The Willowsbrook Chronicles - Chapter 9: Inn by the Cursed Lands
Hello everyone, it’s time for more of The Willowsbrook Chronicles.
Last chapter, Gunther, Naomi, and Quigsley arrived in the city of Kesolar.
Yet they were unaware that powerful forces have placed their mark on them. At the Ducal manor they met Arcturius Brekkin. The Duke thanked them for helping Nathaniel thwart the conspiracy in Ansolar.
Then he offered Gunther a reward and a proposal involving an Inn of his own.
Gunther and his friends begin their unwitting journey into danger. Ts the saga of the Willowsbrook Chronicles continues.
Gunther was looking around the marketplace in Central Kesolar. His mind was still in a whirl over the good luck that had come his way. An inn of my own at last, an inn of my own at last.
The thought rolled through his mind again and again. He and his friends were about to achieve a lifelong dream. That brought Gunther back to the present.
Naomi was looking over the melons in a marketplace stall with a critical eye. The soon-to-be Inn proprietor turned his attention to the cranberry barrels before him. The big man nodded in approval. “These ones look pretty fresh. You seem to know your way around cranberries,” he noted.
The farmer, in the stall before him, beamed with pride. “Several generations of my family have been farming cranberries. My own boys have learned well from me.”
He gave them one last look before coming to a decision. “I’ll take several barrels of these good farmer,” The former tavern cook stated.
The two men went back and forth negotiating a price. Finally, when settled on, the big man handed over the coins. Gunther noted Naomi talking to another chubby woman, several years older than her. “Your wife looks like she knows her way around produce herself.” The farmer observed.
Gunther chuckled and flushed. “Um…Naomi’s not my wife, she’s a friend. In all honesty, as much as I love women, I’ve never had time or found anyone. Life has kept me otherwise occupied.”
The Farmer nodded in understanding. “Oh, I get it now. Well don’t let all your youth slip by youngun. The world takes it out of you it does. Don’t know how I would’ve lasted without the help of my wife and boys.”
A large wagon came towards where the Innkeeper was, at the reigns of the wagon was Quigsley. The wagon pulled up to where the two were. “You done yet?” He asked.
The large innkeeper nodded. “Settled the price and paid for some barrels.”
The Farmer then looked over the wagon and nodded his approval. “Oh aye, those are fine looking horses, and that wagon is of top grade Velstand oak. Sturdy stuff and right for a long journey. Where you headed off to?”
“Oh, we’re heading out towards the northwestern region of the Duchy.” The eager big man answered.
Gunther got a surprise when the man looked terrified. After a moment, the man schooled his expression back to a cheery one. “Oh, I see,” The farmer responded in a fashion that made him wonder.
“Let me help you load those barrels up.”
“Any help is welcome.” The big man responded. “By the way, I never got your name.”
“Wilshire, Barnaby Wilshire, at your service.” The farmer answered, beaming with pride.
As they began loading up the barrels, the former cook heard Naomi speak up. “Thank you, we’ll take that batch of melons right there. The wagon has arrived that will be carrying our food and supplies."
A half hour later, the wagon trotted out the main gate of Kesolar. On it were the needed supplies, and a large bag containing the rest of the gold reward Duke Brekkin had given. Gunther patted the scroll case that contained the deed to his new business venture.
“Ere', you okay Gunther?” The illusionist inquired.
“I’m fine my friend," He assured as he chuckled. "I'm excited about the prospect of my own inn. Granted, it might be a little on the run down side, but with a little work we can turn it into a lovely place.”
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After everything that happened in Ansolar," Naomi added sounding relieved. "A change of scenery will do us all a world of good. The new Earl will have trouble enough cleaning up the city after what those traitors did."
“No argument there. A chance to practice my trade away from those damn gangs will be good for me nerves.” The illusionist chimed in, before his face darkened.
The new inn owner took notice. “Hey, Quigsley, what’s on your mind?"
“Sorry, I'm thinking.” The spellcaster responded sounding preoccupied.
“Don’t do too much of it or you’ll hurt yourself.” The big man quipped at his friend.
Quigsley glared at him. “Oh, ha-ha, real funny smart ass! In honesty, somethin’s bothering me.”
“Something’s always bothering you.” Naomi chided as she shook her head.
"I'm being serious, both of you!” The spell caster snapped.
The former tavern cook put a hand on the Illusionist’s right shoulder.. “Sorry, go ahead and speak your mind.” he coaxed.
The illusionist sighed in relief. “Thank you, I don’t mean to seem like a bearer of ill tidings, but ain’t this all a little too convenient? I mean no disrespect towards his Excellency the Duke.
"But out of the blue he hands us an inn of our own to run. Then has you, Gunther, sign a contract, gives us a bunch of money, and not much else? Don’t that seem a bit off to you?”
The taller man's face furrowed as he considered Quigsley’s words. “Hmm, you have a point there my friend. I guess I was so caught up with fulfilling a dream I never stopped to think of much else.”
“Um… I didn’t want to say anything earlier," Naomi ventured sounding a little nervous. "But the region this inn's location has had rumors of weird things going on. Though I can’t seem to remember what it is.”
“Hang on Naomi, Ih‘eard some things too, from some former mates at the Academy. Can’t remember what, but it had to do with the Northwestern Region of the Brekkin province.”
"That's a whole lot of area, there’s a reason the Brekkin Duchy is one of the largest in Velstand.” Gunther pointed out.
“Aye, no argument there.” The illusionist agreed.
“Still, I can’t help but have this underlying feeling that this is too good to be true.” Naomi added .
Gunther looked shocked. “You think that Duke Brekkin would lie to us?"
“Hold on a minute friend." Quigsley interjected. "Naomi never said that of his Excellency. Duke Brekkin’s too good for that sort of crap.”
“Then what the Hells do you mean?” he asked sounding a bit testy.
“She means there might’ve been some details that got left out. Duke Brekkin is hiding something from us, though why I don’t know.” The illusionist surmised.
The big man realized the wizard had a point. “Remember that conversation you had with Sharman the Butler? He said he knew your father.” Naomi observed.
Rubbing his beard in thought, the big man concluded, “Yeah, you’re right, he never said anything other than that. I’d like to have a talk with him, I want to hear more about my father.”
Naomi looked surprised. “You’ve never mentioned that before. You were always convinced that your parents left you at that orphanage for the Gods know what reason.”
Gunther nodded. “Before yes. But now, I’m not so sure. Sharman’s comments lit something in me, a sort of curiosity to at least know something of my past.”
Quigsley shrugged. “Actually, understand that I can. I may have me issues with the Academy, but I don’t know what I’d do without my family.”
“So, why didn’t you go back to them when you started getting dissatisfied with working at the Foamy Mug inn?” Naomi asked.
The spell caster looked horrified. “What, leave me best mates to that bastard Rier? Not bloody likely, me sister Mum and Dad would never let me hear the end of it!”
Gunther looked surprised and smiled. “I appreciate that sentiment my friend.”
“Where you go, I go.” The illusionist responded meaning every word.
Six days later, the cart pulled up to the top of a hill. Far below was the outline of a chimney. Yet, looking at the eerie, defoliated state of the forest gave Gunther a sinking feeling. “Quigsley,” he called shaking the shoulder of the Illusionist.
The spell caster yelped, almost jumping out of his seat, then glared at his friend. “Don’t do that,” he snapped. “My nerves are on edge enough as is!”
The Innkeeper thought for a moment. “You know, the trees here look a little on the sick side. Also, we haven’t seen any watch towers or Velstand Rangers for the past two days.”
The Academy exile nodded. “Not only that, but I’m getting a feeling of bad magic coming from nearby. Though what it is, I don’t know yet.”
The inn owner looked at the horses who’s ears seemed to be pulling back. They pawed the ground letting out nervous snorts. Quigsley grabbed the reins. “Easy you two, easy,” he coaxed.
“G-good thing Quigsley’s family know about horses.” Naomi commented holding her wool shawl close and shivering.
The large cook nodded his agreement and looked around in unease. The trio's leader felt an icy cold touch of fear crawling up his back, like a spider. Something isn’t right here, the innkeeper’s alarms kept screaming at him.
He looked at his friends and saw their own visible fear. Well, at least it’s nice to know I’m not the only one feeling nervous. The innkeeper thought to himself, not taking much comfort in the notion.
Despite their uncertainty, they reached the bottom of the hill and made their way into the forest. The wagon rolled over a bumpy road that felt unused in some time.
By some miracle, they found the turning point mentioned to them. The approached the Inn. Gunther noted the walls seemed to be in good shape, though the thatch on the roof looked like it might be due for a change. Good thing I planned for such a possibility, he thought to himself.
"It's not the most impressive place," the new head of the inn thought out loud.
Quigsley was muttering something to himself. The former tavern cook knew the spell caster was thinking about something. It was best to leave him to his thoughts.
“At least it’s a start.” Naomi added trying to sound cheerful.
It didn’t take long for them to pull into the stable yard.
“Strange," Naomi observed. "The stable looks to be in good shape, as does the inn. it's as if people left this place a short time ago."
Gunther sighed and looked up at the sky. His face furrowed. “Damn it, with that confounded cloud cover it’s hard to tell what time of the day it is.”
“It’s early mid-day,” came Quigsley in a neutral tone.
He looked at his Illusionist friend. “You’ve been quiet for quite some time.”
“Um… Quigsley,” Naomi ventured. “Is something wrong? You’ve never been this quiet in all the years I’ve known you.”
A dark look crossed the illusionist's face. “I didn’t want to say anything before, because I wasn't completely certain. But now I can say, we’re in danger.”
“Wait, what?” innkeeper and barmaid inquired, looking at once apprehensive and perplexed.
“Did some reading up last night in one of me books I did. Think about it, Duke Brekkin said that the inn we were going to be running is in the Kerosh region of the Brekkin Duchy.”
Naomi’s face furrowed in open puzzlement. “What has that got to do with anything?”
“This is Northern Kerosh," The illusionist explained as he trembled.
"Near one of the most feared regions in all Velstand. A region no one has ever been able to solve the mystery of, or come back from alive.”
At that point the trio's leader put two and two together. “Wait,” he yelped, open horror creeping into his voice. “This inn is…near the Cursed Lands!”
Gunther then threw back his head and shouted, “Damn it!”
Poor Gunther and his friends escaped from Ansolar. Now they're thrust by Duke Brekkin into another situation.
Poor Gunther can’t seem to catch a break, but could there be more going on than even Gunther realizes? We’ll just have to wait and see.
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Previous: The Willowsbrook Chronicles: Chapter 8 – A seemingly generous proposal
Next: The Willowsbrook Chronicles: Chapter 10 – Call of the lady