New tale: Sage's Trek

[Lagwolf]

It wasn’t long after I was selected as Sage of Wales that I was asked to investigate a small town on the North West coast of Wales. The town was the source of rumours for many a moon, and much loathed by the people of the area. The Welsh are a hearty lot and rather used to the odd noise and light in the sky, being descended from hardy Celtic stock. Marshbier, on the other hand, spooked the normally placid coastal Welshman, not enough so after a few pints it was impossible to hear about it, but nonetheless a place to be avoided.

Marshbier was a recent town for the coast of Wales, having only existed for 150 years or so, growing up around a manor house that was built on the inlet in the early 19th century. The house commanded the heights of the area and could clearly be seen both from the air and when one was out at sea. It was made of stone and of some considerable size, the rest of the houses in the town were smaller and more typical of the Welsh coast. The town kept to itself and was as self-sufficient as possible, not even bothering to hook itself up to the Welsh power grid. There was a weekly bus and mail service into the area, but that was hardly used. Observers commented that most of the transport out and into the town came via the sea and not overland. There was a road to the town, but it was a one car road with high hedge rows that was not well maintained and look as it hadn’t been paved in decades. The hills around the town were fairly barren and contained none of the normal farms you would expect for the area, farmers reported that their sheep would refuse to even mount the back side of these hills; horses and dogs shunned the area as well.

It was into this environ that I took my first official act as Sage of Wales. It was only official in the fact that I was asked to investigate by the First Minister of Wales, himself, in a hand written note to me. The note informed me that I was to be careful and not take any “undue risk.” Whatever that was suppose to mean. I decided that it would be wise for me to ask for aid in this matter, as I was rather unfamiliar with this particular area of the west coast of Wales. It would be time for me to call in an acquaintance of mine who was as Welsh as they came and in fact a Druid. Rupert, a large man from an old demon hunting family, attended my instalment and expressed his wish to help me in any way he could. This was an offer I was unable to refuse.

We stayed in Cardigan the night before we planned to make tracks towards the shunned town of Marshbier. As I learned when I first started planning the trek, the town does not appear on any maps or ordinance surveys. Rupert, well known to all the tales and folklore of the land, was very aware of how one would get there. Over fish & chips and a pint or 3 of Double Dragon ale we made out plans for the next day, deciding it would be best to take my rather beat-up Land Rover rather than attempting to land a boat in the town. Very little was known of the town outside the rumours that always surrounded it. Rupert knew a little more, specifically that the town sustained itself via fishing and trade with the south pacific. Despite not having any attachment itself to the Welsh national grid, the town was clearly illuminated at night; however, there was none of the normal hustle and bustle of a sea-side town in the summer.

Our task was simple: we were to go to the town and learn as much as we could and leave. We were not to take any action ourselves. The investigation was precipitated by the recent mental illnesses of the last two social workers who attempted to enter the town to determine its needs. Both of the individuals were from Cardiff and were unaware of the town’s reputation when they ventured into the town, only to return in a state of distress and paranoia. What was most troubling to me was the fact that no one bothered to inform me of the most recent explorations of the town. I didn’t bother to ask my friend Rupert how he knew of their state of mind.

There were several such towns in Wales, towns that were just forgotten due some past scandal or misdeed. As with Scotland, there were still low-boiling feuds which existed since the time of the English conquering the country. There was even a tale of a town that was shunned by other town in interior Northern Wales for allying itself to the Romans when they attempted to subdue the Celts.

Despite all the research possible, neither Rupert nor I could find any such reasoning for the shunning of the town in question, barring the occasional accusation of sorcery or traitorous acts toward the Germans. Fortunately for us the town did have some taste for outside things. A small brewer near Cardigan sold beer to men from this town on a monthly basis. It was this reason that Rupert and I sat in this brew-pub on the wind swept coast of West Wales. Besides the free beer and fish & chips all we were able to get from Daiyn was that the men who came to buy his beer looked odd and smelled rather fishy. They always paid on the spot and were prompt with their arrival and departure.

The pub would, of course, be our first port of call in the town. It was reassuring to know there would be at least decent ale in the town. It was only later than evening that Daiyn decided to tell us that he actually bartered his beer away and was paid mostly in fish. He responded to Rupert’s question as to the origin of the delicious fish we eating. Daiyn kept much of the fish for his patrons but sold some of it to chippys in the area.

“I normally come out ahead on this deal, the fish is worth more than the kegs of beer on the open market. Because the fish is so good, I have to turn people away, as I only get so much.” He paused. “Please don’t tell too many people about it, I don’t have a licence to sell fish and it might be me into trouble.”

‘No worries,” I assured him. “Bartering is not as uncommon as you think, anything to keep it out of the hands of the tax man, right?”

Daiyn chuckled and continued to make small talk. The pub contained a few guest rooms as well as the small brewery. The main advantage to staying the night was that there was no “chucking out time” as we were residents. We continued to buy the owner drinks, in order to thank him. We soon learned that he was more informed about our mystery town than he first let on, much more.

“I know I told you those blokes are odd, but they are alright really. The look a bit odd and smell a bit, but they are decent lads. Both of them seem happy to be able to have a night away from the town. They only stay if there is no one else lodging here at night. The never talk to anyone else in here and tend to stay in that dark corner booth over there.” The owner pointed to a dimly lit corner bench table near the kitchen door of the pub. “ After everyone else is gone, they will sit here and have a chat, like we are now.

Rupert and I drank our beers and listened, neither daring to take notes on what was being said, but making an effort to remember what was being said in our strong ale-addled brains.

“The pub you want to go to is the “Dagon’s Head”; there is another pub in the town which is much rougher and to be avoided. I have been invited to the town several times and this is where they tell me to go for a pint of my beer.”

“Are these two men trawler-men?”

“As far as I can guess they are, they know a lot about fishing in the Irish Sea. Whomever they work for or know certainly knows were to get the best fish, the fish they bring me about twice the size of the normal cod you can get in the market.” As he spoke he played with a small medallion around his neck.

“So what are you wearing, did they give that to you?”

“Um, yes. How did you know that? I never told anyone where I got it from.”

Rupert piped in. “Daiyn, every time you talk about the Marshbier you fiddled with it. You have been doing it all bloody night.”

“I do? I never noticed that.” Clearly embarrassed he took the medallion off his neck and handed it to me. “I suppose its alright if you take a look. They told me never to show it to anyone…probably because it valuable and they were worried it would be stolen.”

The chain was fairly standard but the medallion was impressive. It was fairly hefty for its size and was made of solid 24k gold. The craftsmanship was impressive if grotesque. The carving on the front when closely examined showed a octopoid figure sitting on a plinth of some sort. The plinth displayed odd characters on the bottom, ones that I was unable to decipher immediately. I handed it to Rupert to see what he made of it, unwilling to say much aloud.

“It’s very impressive, I wouldn’t go showing that around either. The gold alone much be worth well over £1000, if not more. How long have you had it?”

“Only a few months I guess. They gave it to me when there wasn’t enough fish to cover a large order of beer they picked up. “ Daiyn looked nervous as he spoke and getting more so.

Rupert handed it back to him and sighed. His face looked puzzled and a bit worried. “That is like nothing I have seen in my life. Looks as if it came from somewhere tropical, don’t get many octopuses in the Irish Sea.”

“Hah, no I guess not, Rupert. The poor buggers would freeze to death out there, especially this time of year.”

Rupert didn’t even smile at the joke, and Daiyn chuckled a bit.

“Daiyn, you wouldn’t happen to know the names of your friends would you? It would be nice to know someone in the town when we get there. We won’t use your name of course.”

He looked oddly at us, “you might not believe this but I don’t have any idea what either of them is called. They never bothered to give me their names, I refer to them as “the two from Marshbier.”

“When is their next trip here?”

“You just missed them. Won’t be here for a month of so, maybe longer.”

I sensed he was lying, but I didn’t want to press the point. He was clearly uncomfortable being pressed about his customers. So I let it drop hoping I hadn’t blown a chance to find out any more that night.

“You know what is odd about those two? They never get in touch with me, but I always seem to know when they are coming. “ He looked rather shocked at what he said to us.

“ Well I wish you luck with you trip, and I look forward to seeing you on your way back south. Its getting late and the wife will get upset if I come to bed too pissed. So I guess I will be off. Give us your glasses and I will top them up.”

We handed over our glasses and watched as they were filled with the brownish liquid.

“There is light switch on the way up to your rooms. Make sure you switch it off on your way to your rooms. Help yourself to peanuts and beer.”

I was sure he knew full well we were both off to bed sharpish, but it was a nice gesture that he was giving us full run of the place.

“Just my luck open pumps at a pub and I have to go to bed! I get the feeling being too out of it tomorrow would not be a clever idea.” Rupert took a large gulp of his beer and continued. “This place sounds like a coastal version of Black Grate, a town I was unfortunate enough to visit last year to check on a missing child.”

“Black Grate? Never heard of such a place. Where the hell is it?”

“Closer to hell than you can imagine. Black Grate is its English name; I refuse to even speak its accursed Welsh name. Let’s just say it has a black grated rock near the outskirts of the town and a dire reputation.”

“I see, so did you find your missing child, then?”

“Yes actually, and the child has no idea what happened to it the year it was missing. The second night I was in the town, she showed up at my room in the hostel there and asked me if I had come to take her home. “

“She has no recollection of a whole year of her life?”

“None, as far as Glynis is concerned she was away from home for 2 days. Nothing was wrong with her either, no a scratch on her, nothing.” Rupert finished his beer and trotted to the far side of the bar.

“Well I bet her parents were pleased to have her home.”

“Yes, but they are a bit confused. The little girl was a bit thick when she left home and now is highly intelligent. It's as if she spent her year away in a cram course. Very odd, and one I will keep an eye for some time to come. She has great potential.”

“Ah, I see. You think she is “gifted”?”

“Oh yes, without a doubt, I am just wondering about how her gift is aligned.” He stressed the last word.

“Well we best finish this lot up and head off to bed. It might be a long and hard day tomorrow.”

“Yep, lucky thing I brought along my trusty Land Rover. It saw me out of that hole, it should do us well in this adventure.”

Rupert and I trotted off to our respective rooms and soon were asleep.

The next day we prepared the Land Rover for the trip into our destination. We made sure to have several jerry-cans full of petrol as well as a good supply of bottled water. It was decided that drinking the local water supply might not be the best idea. A decent supply of food was in the back as well as a two sleeping bags just in case sleeping in town was not a good idea. The side storage area contained an unlicenced “scraped” Glock and a rather curious looking short sword. The storage area was locked by both normal and magical means, and only the most fastidious of police would be able to find either weapon. I didn’t bother to ask what else Rupert carried in the Land Rover. I asked him along because of his habits.

By 10 in the morning we were heading up the coast in the Land Rover, I was drove while Rupert study the aerial photos he brought, comparing them to the maps of the area. The entrance to the town was well hidden and it was almost certain it would take several passes before we were able to find the small road to the town. On Rupert’s advice I dressed in shabby farmer’s clothes as he did, in order that we might be able to pass ourselves off as lost if we got into trouble.

After lunch in a pub near the supposed entrance to the town, we set off, stomachs full, to Marshbier. I must admit that the thought of venturing into the area gave me a bit of pause for thought. As we neared the small road my stomach tightened, and I felt a profound aura of dread. As I was driving I was unable to look at Rupert, but I am sure his more acute sense of things was even more twigged. We were fortunate enough to find the road on our first attempt.

Rupert directed me to the mouth of the road, which seemed barely a farm track. As one would expect for the time of the year it was muddied and rutted, thus did not make for easy driving. The road crested the top of the hill and began its descent; the hedgerows were tall enough so that little could be seen of the surrounding countryside. However what could be seen was barren of life and contained only low left scrub and nettles. The road wound its way down to the town and through a dirty great mist that enveloped the town. As we descended slowly the stench of rotting fish assaulted the senses, making one’s eyes water at first. It got so bad that I was forced to stop and dab my tearing eyes. Rupert seemed unperturbed and stared straight ahead when not looking at his aerial photo. On his left leg he held a scratch pad where he scribbled notes about our passage.

I don’t know how long the slow ride down the hill took, but it was very slow going. As we finally reached the valley below, one was first struck by the palor of decay that seemed to seep from everywhere one looked.

“Ok, let's find this pub, and make sure to park the Land Rover facing towards this road. I would rather not have to do a u-turn in a hurry. I think I will take the keys so that I can drive when we leave.” Rupert showed no emotion in his voice but clearly was in his serious mode. I made the mistake of making a joke when I saw that there was no one on the street.

“Looks like the people of the village take a siesta!” My reward was no response.

“Sage, I think it would be best if you do your bon vivant bit and I play the straight man. Make sure to keep up the jackarse farmer bit, but see if you can convince anyone in the bar that you are slightly pissed and not with it.”

I responded in the affirmative, wondering what he was going to be doing while I made a prat of myself as a diversion. We travelled into town, past the shabby and slightly decaying buildings. Every single window was heavily curtained and there was little if any garden care in any of the houses. We passed a grotty looking pub with no name as well as a church-like building equally bereft of lettering. At the end of the street there was a turn to the left that seem to head towards the sea. We were not to make it to the end.

“Take a right at the next two corners. I think it would be best if we avoided getting any nearer the docks than we have to, right now. I figure that pub will be on the next street over, nearer some of the bigger houses in the village.“

As we slowly drove through town, one occasionally caught a glimpse of a pair of eyes looking at us. Never managed to catch anyone looking directly at us, however. There were a few vehicles on the streets, but none of them were moving. Most of the cars were 70s British Leyland, and all were in bad order. After we turned right we could see the docks in the distance, they too looked very abandoned, and in a state of disrepair. I followed Rupert’s lead and took the next right. On the left side of the road was a smallish building with a small pub sign. It was the place we were looking for, The Dagon Inn. As I brought the car to a stop I noticed the wooden sign depicted a octopus of some sort sitting on top of a barrel of ale, with a pint in 4 of its tentacles. I snickered at the sight, much to the annoyance of Rupert.

“That must be the town office and library over there on the right a few doors down. If we think it wise we can pop over there and have a look a bit later.” Rupert said in a monotone voice before he stepped out of the vehicle. Turn the key to the right when you shut your door, I installed central locking a few years ago.”

I did as I was told, hearing the loud clunk of metal on metal.

“Give me the keys!

“Ok Rupert. Should we use our real names or what? We never bothered to discuss that.”

“Well use Christian names, I will try not to call you Sage.” He walked into the bar, gently pushing the door open with his large hand.

The pub was almost as deserted as the streets, except for an old man and two younger ones bunched together at the end of the bar. The old man mumbled to himself, clearly having drunk more than his share for the day. He stared at a yellowish newspaper on the table in front of him closely. The old man didn’t bother looking up as the strangers walked in. The bartender acknowledged our presence with a short fleeting glance.

From the corner a voice spoke loudly, surprising me.

“Ah yes it’s the two strangers Daiyn told me were on their way. Come here and have a drink with us!”

“Oh shit!’ I thought to myself. Daiyn obviously warned his two “friends” we were on our way.

Rupert on the other hand didn’t miss a beat. “Did Daiyn tell you why we are here?”

I followed him over to the two barstools near the two men and sat down. “Two Double Dragon ales please, or should I say Double Dagon. Haha!” I tried to play my role as best I could.

The beers appeared, and we took drinks from our beers. Rupert carefully watched the bartender pull our pints. I suppose he was making sure nothing was slipped into our drinks.

“No, he just said that you were travelling up the coast and were impressed with our fish. Dagon knows how you managed to stumble into this place. Most people can’t find it if they tried. We don’t get many outsiders here. You are lucky there is this pub, only been here for about 10 years back. A bloke came here from America and decided we needed a new place to have a beer and a few rooms for guests. The place beats that flea pit over on the other road. “

I noticed he ignored our question about why were there. His friend didn’t say anything but stared nervously at the door behind us. I just drank my beer and kept my eyes peeled for anything odd going on.

“We don’t get many people here past Sundown these days. They were probably scared off by a few disappearances that happened to strangers a few years back. Most of the people in town don’t take too well to people from outside, not a friendly lot us.”

The way he said sundown made me flinch. I kept getting the feeling he was trying to tell us something. Rupert continued to glare at the man and mumble occasionally, sounding like a grumpy farmer. I decided to go chat to the old man, to pass the time, there was a window next to him that looked out on the Land Rover and the street. I wasn’t to keen to have my back to the door.”

“Oh don’t bother talking to Clive, he’s a bit mad. He is the one who bought this place and thought it would make some money in the tourist trade! Haha. He didn’t take it too well.” Yelled the talkative bar patron.

The old man looked up at me with staring eyes and acknowledged my presence. When I got close enough to hear his mumbling he look up from his paper.

“Get out of here as fast you can. This place isn’t right, they ain’t normal here in this place.”

I was surprised to hear a very Massachusetts accent from the man.

“I’d tried to help them get some life into this shitty old town. The bastards drove off my clientele and ruined me. Reckon they killed several of my boarders as well. I can’t leave neither, if I try they will surely kill me! Gonna stay right here on this chair until I rot and die!”

I sat on the faded stool next to him and was about to speak when his tone changed. He whispered to me in a fairly coherent manner. “Take me with you please! I can pay you, I have money in Naddick, I can pay anything you want, just get me the fuck out of here! Please, I beg you, have mercy on an old foolish man. This town is filled with people like what live in Innsmouth, back home. Froggy types, who worship a devil called Dagon. Over there on the other street there is a church with a bloody altar and strange symbols all over. I used to go for a walk before lunch, and I wandered over there once…something drew me into that pit of despair. What I saw was no right, they are cannibals those people, satan worshiping cannibals I tell you.” His voice raised slightly until I shushed him.

“Are you willing to tell the authorities this if we get you out? All of it?”

He looked pale and quieted his voice. “Don’t ask me to do that, I will pay you though, I can give you gold I got here. Worth lots of money, I got cash in the bank in the States. Just don’t make me go to the cops….they will put me away and then they will get me. Like all the others.” He shoock as he picked up his beer.
“Look, I need your help. Don’t you want to stop these people? What do they have on you? How will they get you?”

“No, no you don’t understand, they have friends everywhere. We get people from all over here in town, the US, the Phillipines, Carribean and India. They don’t come in here, mind you, they go to that flea pit next to the church. That place is full up every night. No one ever comes to my bar…” He trailed off into his beer.

As I got up to go back to Rupert, the old man grasped my hand in both of his and yanked me towards him. Something scratched the my palm as he grasped my hand. “Take this, I got more in my bag below my chair, you take me out of here you can have them.”

“I will see what I can do,” was all I feebly managed, as I got up and looked out of the window to watch the sky. I looked at my watch to and tried to remember about when sundown was today as I walked back to Rupert who wagged his head occasionally like a car window dug while the talkative one kept blithering on.

“You 3 want another pint, I think its my round. Oh and give the guy in the corner another one as well.” I trousered the thing in my hand and wiped the small cut on my trousers in a broad overstated motion.

“I think I have am alright. You have one more and think we should be heading off. We don’t want to be too late when we get to Aberaeron. I want to check out that new Fish & Chip Restaurant on the docks.

I was trying to figure out how to get the old man into the car with us, and quickly.

“Yeah, we don’t want to miss that all you can eat fish fry they have at 7pm. Let me chug this pint and we can bugger off. “ I noticed the bar tender didn’t bother to take a pint to the old guy in the corner, even though he was the owner. The barkeep poured a pint for Rupert anyway. Once I paid for my round I took his pint over to the old guy, noticing the barkeeps obvious annoyance.

“So you can walk right?” I said to the old man in a snotty sort of way. “I am not carrying your arse to the Land Rover. When we leave you got to make it to the rear door of the jeep by yourself. “

“Shit I may look old but I can manage on my own. This place makes you much older than you are…”

I didn’t hear the rest of it as I walked toward Rupert. As I reached about half-way across the door I started to hear a curious noise coming from the outside. It was a high-pitched singing that sounded a bit off.

The old man yelled from behind me. “It’s the 4:30 quitting gong from the docks, everybody will be heading home from work soon.”

I looked at my watch and noticed it was only 4:00 on my watch. Rupert knew what the old man meant.

“I think we should be off now! Thanks for the company. That all you can eat buffet is calling.”

The bartender spoke for the first time, “ we serve food here why don’t you stay for some of OUR fish.”

Rupert moved quickly towards the door and was next to me sharpish. I chugged my beer and set it down on the table in front of the old man. I could see the old man move for something between his legs. I followed Rupert out the door; as I walked out the door a sense of impending doom hit me that cleared my head instantly. It felt as if the walls were closing in on us, the music was getting louder as well, almost reaching deafening levels. I could hear the old man moving behind me and a stool or two falling over. The old man rushed passed me at full clip, hitting me with his bag as he moved.

“You old bastard! Get the fuck back here or they will kill you!” Shouted the talkative patron. “You old fool are going to get yourself killed. No one escapes Marshbier!”

We were all in the Land Rover and it was moving by the time the two men got to the door of the pub. By the time Rupert spoke the engine was screaming, there is another Glock in the glove box, if anyone gets too close shoot them!”

I was busy holding onto the arm straps as Rupert threw the vehicle around the streets as he headed towards the lane out. Behind us, the old man yelled that “they” were closing in on us. I never bothered to turn around, concentrating on the road ahead of us. I didn’t need to turn around to feel impending doom that was chasing us, the twisted music was behind and aggressively chasing us. There were a few people standing in front of the exit to the town, there were pallets standing on their side across the road. Rupert was unperturbed and kept his foot glued to floor. The Land Rover hit the barricade and didn’t even slow down leaping up the rutted road. The old man began screaming as we cleared the fog on the edge of the valley. I spun around to look at the old man and gazed at a man in horror. His eyes were wide open staring at some imaginary horror ahead of us. He held his bag close to his chest as if it were a newborn he needed to protect.

When we hit the main road the screaming stopped, the old man’s mouth was still open but nothing was coming out. His face was white as a sheet and his eyes were glued open.
“Rupert I think we need to get him to the hospital.”

“Sage I don’t think there is much hope for him, if I have it right. But we can take him to the local hospital in Canaervon. “

“Thank you, I think we owe him that at least, for giving us some warning.”

What I saw when I turned back to look at him I will never forget, the body in front of me was melting into goo, his body lost all its rigidity in a few seconds. The bag floated to the bottom of Land Rover. “Holy shit, he is melting.”

Rupert slammed on the brakes and drove the Land Rover into a lay-by. As the vehicle stopped he engaged the parking brake.

“Open the side and stand back!” Rupert rushed to the real of the vehicle and grabbed a jerry can of petrol. “Once it flows out get in the Land Rover and drive it a safe distance.”

I opened the door and watched the black-purple liquid flow out of the door, it collected in a puddle next to the Land Rover and began to move back the way we came.

“Move the Land Rover now, damnit! “

I did as I was told, and drove the land rover to the next open space on the side of the road. I leapt out of the Land Rover and sprinted back to the where I just left. As I rounded the bend I saw Rupert pouring the petrol on the ground next to him. He then put the can on the ground and moved towards me taking a set of matches out of his hand.

“Get back!” He lit the match and tossed into the petrol. Sprinting towards me before the match hit the ground. He made up as much distance from the can before it exploded in a fireball. Rupert dove to the ground as the explosion hit lighting up the sky.

I ran towards my friend yelling, “Rupert are you alright!”

He picked himself up and looked me in the eye. “I am fine, you handled that well Sage. I think they might have just made a good choice in you. We better get a move on before the police show up. They won’t look kindly on us blowing up a hole in the middle of this road. “

“Shouldn’t we make sure that we haven’t lit the entire hedgerow on fire? “

“Not a good idea to hang around, the ground is wet enough that it will be alright. The attention that the fire will bring, will discourage our friends from chasing us. I think we should head back to check our friend Daiyn. He might be in a bit of bother!”

“Wait, didn’t he sell us out?” As I said it I knew I was being a pillock. Then I remember what he said about his two friends visits.

We drove in silence towards the pub, Rupert breaking every speed limit he encountered. It took us one quarter of the time it had taken us to get down there. It was with great relief when we tore into the street near our the pub. It was to my great relief that nothing looked out of the ordinary as Rupert skidded into the parking lot. We were both out of the Land Rover before the engine was off.

As I got out of the jeep I looked in the back seat, still thinking I might see the old man, it was then I noticed that his bag was gone as well. As we rushed into the pub to find the bartender, I put my hand in my pocket to see if the old man’s gift was there. I still don’t know whether or not I was relieved to find the shiny cold piece of metal wedged next to my thigh in my pocket.

As we entered the pub we saw it was filled with patrons, logical as it was before closing time, one of them was behind the bar serving the customers. It turned out later, Nigel was known to work at the pub on and off. Nigel knew exactly who we were looking for as we blew into the room.

“Don’t know where Daiyn is lads, he went out back about 30 mins ago and hasn’t returned. “

Rupert was bit bemused that the bartender knew who he was looking for but continued his questioning. “Do you knew where he went? Was he meeting someone?”

“No, he said nothing, just looked up from pulling a pint and headed out back. Didn’t say a word, just turned and left.” He paused to hand a beer to patron. “I took over about 10 minutes after he left, he won’t mind, I fill in when he is short staffed from time to time.”

“Don’t worry, I didn’t think you were doing something dodgy. You look like you know what you are doing pulling that pint.” We both stood next to the bar and caught our breath.

“What can I get you lads? A pint and a packet of peanuts was it last time?”

“No, we better find Daiyn fast. I think he may be in terrible trouble.”

Nigel’s face changed colour immediately. “Look shouldn’t we call the police, I shouldn’t really let you back there.”

I thought it would be good idea if I actually identified myself. “Look Nigel I am the Sage of Wales and this is Rupert, we are investigating some odd goings on up the coast and we think, Daiyn might have got involved some how. He is in terrible danger!”

“Oh shit, sorry Sage! I didn’t recognise you in that normal farmer’s kit. I terribly sorry, go ahead. I think he headed downstairs toward the storage room.” He opened the door for us and pointed towards the stairs.

“Is there an exit to the water down there?” I almost yelled at poor Nigel.

“No, you have to go upstairs to get to the water. Its pretty water tight down there.”

“Is there anyway for someone to get to him down there without you being able to see it or hear it?” Rupert asked eager to get moving towards the basement.

“No I would have heard the bell on the door and those stairs are pretty noisy anyway. I am sure no one got by me!”

Rupert and I didn’t bother to wait for the answer and we sailed down the stairs. Rupert actually slid down the banister to get down quickly, I opted for the more conventional route. At the bottom of the stairs it was possible to turn left or right. There were several rooms with no doors that held the supplies you would expect to find in a pub. The far door on the left was closed tightly, the door was unable to contain the vile stench in the room, it assaulted our senses the minute we hit the rock floor of the building.

“You recognise that smell, Andrew?” Said Rupert.

“Yes, I am afraid I do. What are we going to do if I find what I think we will?” I said frantically.

“Same thing as we did with the results of that old man, burn it and try to stay as far as possible. It will be looking for a carrier and getting pretty desperate I should think, I am going to need a torch of some kind to hold it back.”

“You mean it will be afraid of a flashlight torch?” I said a tad bemused and wondering how we were going to pull this off.

“Sorry a bit more old fashioned there Sage. I mean a flaming torch. I have one in the Land Rover. We need to get a jerry can down here as well.”

“Past all those people, they will think we are going to torch the place! Some well meaning soul is going to try to stop you!”

“Damn good point, I guess I am going to have to use the back door and go round. I will need you to run interference in the pub. Go get a pint and make some sort of pronouncement to get them distracted. I will try to make it look like an accident.”

He rushed off up the stairs and I followed wondering what the hell I was going to say to keep people from leaving the pub. In desperation I made an announcement that would certainly distract everyone in the place. As I opened the door the pub behind the bar I raised my voice and hoped for the best. “Ladies and gentleman, may I have your attention please?”

Everyone including Nigel turned to look at me, now well aware of who I was, and conjecturing no doubt at what I was up to in their town. “Seeing as you have been so hospitable to Rupert and I, we decided that we will buy you all a drink! “ I paused looking at the shocked faces and turned to the one closest to me. “Nigel one for yourself as well, my friend. “

There was an orderly if slightly frantic push to the front of the pub as the entire place approached the bar. Nigel handled himself well, and was well enough distracted not to notice what Rupert was doing. He was in no position to quiz me on the whereabouts of his friend, either. “Rupert will join us in a bit.”

I desperately wanted to help my colleague in his gruesome task but did not how to leave un-noticed. It was a great relief when I heard him return via the upper door. I was able to look over my shoulder and see that he carried a torch and 1 litre bottle with some substance in it. After he was fully down the stairs I turned to Nigel and tried to make my excuses.

“Look Rupert needs my help, don’t worry we will tell you what is going on in a bit.” I whispered into his ear. Chanting a short cantrip under my breath, I leaned next to him once again and said, “don’t let anyone go through that door at any cost. Stay here and serve beers.”

To my delight I noticed a blind of some sort that covered the plate glass at the top of the door on the back side. I pulled it down and followed my colleague down the stairs, trying not to vomit at the vile smell that now pervaded the area.

The door was open and the storage room’s floor was covered with the same noxious grey-black liquid that came at us in the Land Rover. It was trying to get a Rupert, but his flaming torch kept the glowing mass back. “Oh good here open this bottle, throw it over my shoulder and run up the stairs. Try not to spill it if you can.”

I did as I was told, carefully opening the Diet Coke bottle and then throwing it from the base towards the far side of the room. I never saw the bottle hit as I ran up the stairs as fast as I could, hitting the top stair as an explosion ripped into the basement. When I looked downstairs I saw Rupert running towards the door to the room and then quickly reappearing on the stair below.

“I closed the door. The room is mostly surrounded by rock, so it should stay contained. I will stay here to keep an eye on it. Go see if you can find a fire extinguisher. “

Nigel appeared behind me and began to speak almost in my ear. “What the bloody hell was that? Sounds like something exploded downstairs? Are you two alright?…”

I turned and calmly as I could asked for his fire extinguisher. He looked at me in amazement and shock. The entire pub was behind him looking straight at me.

“There are two I know of, one here and one upstairs in the kitchen. He handed me the one nearest to me and rushed up the stairs.”

As he sped past me I took his place to cover as much of the view as possible, forgetting that there was probably vile smelling smoke behind me. “Look there has been an accident downstairs in one of the storage rooms. I think it might be best if you all go home. If someone knows the number could you call the fire service and the local constabulary?” The black smoke beginning to surround my body was more than enough to convince most of the patrons to leave. A few approached me to see if they could do something. One asked the question I was loath to hear.

“Was Daiyn in the room at the time? Is he alright?” Asked a worried older man with a thick Welsh accent.

“We don’t know yet, Rupert opened the door and something inside exploded. He is very lucky he wasn’t killed! You might want to call an ambulance as well. We hope the rock of this building will mean it doesn’t burn the whole pub down. “ The sound of sirens could be heard from all around. Rupert pushed me aside as he came up the stairs closely followed by Nigel coming down the stairs.

“Lets clear this place out. Let the firemen handle it, it's too hot for these poxy little extinguishers. “ He paused as he herded the few stragglers out the door. “Oddest this is that that fire didn’t set off the bloody fire alarm. Useless piece of crap that thing is!”

It was as I reached the cool air outside the pub that I noticed the burning feeling on the side of my leg. There was a small black hole on the right side of my trousers, clearly showing the gold object stored within it. I took the hot metal object out of my pocket and tossed it on the picnic table on the side of the building. I took the rest of a beer than sat on the bench and poured it over the square amulet. It sizzled in an almost angry way, vile smelling steam rising from its face. The fire trucks arrived and the parking lot soon erupted into chaos. Fortunately most of the patrons didn’t drive to the pub so it was mostly free of cars.

Rupert slapped me on the back. “I can’t believe you just wasted beer on that thing? I mean that was almost a full pint!”

“Nah, it's alright, it was lager anyway. Why don’t you do something useful as see if you find any more filled pints so I can cool this bloody thing down.” I didn’t mean to be so pushy but Rupert didn’t seem to mind.

“What happened? I didn’t think you got that close to the fire!”

Behind him Nigel and the older patron heard my request and brought us the few remaining pints that were sitting outside. I tossed each one on the amulet and it finally stopped fizzing. Rupert didn’t push for the answer to his question thankfully.

As you would expect with this sort of thing, Rupert, Nigel and I were questioned extensively by the police. A younger constable didn’t recognise me and thus gave us a rather hard time of it at first. Soon thereafter, a more senior officer arrived and recognised me immediately. Nonetheless we were asked to stay in the area for the next few days.

Once Rupert and I found a room in a small hotel nearby, we sat down and examined the now cool amulet. On one side the pure gold inch square piece of jewellery contained a octopoid figure on a plinth with cryptic writing on its base. On the other side there was an ankh reversed in a disembodied clawed hand. Both sides were grotesque.

“Wow, rapper’s jewellery is getting ugly these days isn’t it?”

Rupert looked at me and uttered a single word. “Quite.”

“I wonder what is going to happen with Daiyn disappearance?” I asked.

“I am sure Nigel has filed a missing person’s report by now. I suspect we might get asked about it tomorrow.”

“I doubt it, I am sure the local police will be informed not to pursue this sharpish. I just hope the pub is finished now we almost burnt it down.” He said as he prepared to go to bed.

“I doubt they will let the place die. Thankfully no one will ever know the truth of what happened there tonight. I doubt our friends from Marshbier will be back either. Daiyn’s two friends have probably already suffered the wrath of the town for attracting our intention.”

Now lying under the covers in the small single bed Rupert looked at me with a worried look on his face. “What are we going to do about that town anyway? I doubt the Welsh would have the stomach for the wholesale slaughter of the raid on Innsmouth.”

“Rupert I don’t make policy I just advise them on it. I suggest that containment might be the best idea for the time being. We need to know more before we try to eradicate the threat. We don’t know who or what we would unleash if we attacked that place the wrong way.”

“Da!” Rupert said in a poor Russian accent before he turned over and turned off his bedside lamp.

[Aleister]

You really do churn them out *grin*

This is next on my list I will post back!

[Lagwolf]

Oh yeah and I got one about the 1/3 or 1/2 the way done. I was going to finish it but have been rather busy of late. Let's put it this way, I going to a gig every night from Weds thru Friday, out this evening a libertarian event and doing my own band rehersal on Friday.

[Aleister]

I imagine you do not suffer from writer's block much then

Do you know how many Sage & co. stories you have written to date?

[Lagwolf]

If you include the novel/novellas too I would say its about 20 now. No writer's block is not a problem. I write all the time anyway and this is just one bit of all that writing.

[nortonew]

Unless I am mistaken, this looked like something of a prequel to your other stories. Is this something you just wrote or something from a while back?

The 'gifted' girl that the Sage mentioned, is that, by any chance, going to end up being Claire?

[Lagwolf]

Yep, how did you guess? Yes this is one of the first tales I wrote that I just found. It was not up on either my blog not any of the other sites I post on.

BTW: I am supposed to be seeing the real Claire sometime in the next few months :D

[Aleister]

The real Claire? Do go on..

[Lagwolf]

Yeah, she is Welsh girl I have known since the early 90s, she knows that character is based on her and is rather flattered.