the BEEG TONK

Good morning Tumblr.

So good news. I've worked with a pal, Ally_Boo, over on RoyalRoad and have improved my prologue. I'll post it here today and on Saturday I'll post chapter 2. I'm also reworking chapter one. So that will get posted once its done as well.

Home Town: The Reformation Tour

Prologue: Out Hittin' Dummies

Twilight loomed over the peaked wooden rooftops. Below, the city streets breathed in the golden light. Long shadows stretched from exhausted forms trudging to and fro beneath the great wooden arch of the training fields. Complaints, hurrahs, battlecries, clangs, bangs, and crashes reverberated through the air, echoing across streets and alleys. Languid clouds of white dust stalked their weary feet into the road.

Across the arch hung a broad wooden sign: “Home Town Training Fields.”

Good morning Tumblr.

I'm posting chapter one of Home Town: The Reformation Tour today! I hope you enjoy the read and give some feedback!

Home Town: The Reformation Tour

Chapter 1: Lend a Hand Wouldja?

‘It's a clear sky tonight. The moons are out. All three of them. Bright, looming, and magnificent’ as they illuminated the soft rolling hills of the red grasslands, the long winding dirt road, and the city peacefully asleep. Yet, something stirred in that peaceful night.

Atop the southeastern gate sat a guard tower. Inside was a guardswoman who leaned back in her chair as she rolled a small metal ball across her palm. Her eyes lazily darted across the landscape. Her thoughts wandered from one meaningless thought to another. She yawned, squeezed her eyes shut, and inadvertently squeezed the metal ball as she stretched back. She wobbled a bit in her chair as she stretched a hair too far, but she caught herself before falling. 'Whew.'

Embarrassed, she turned her attention back down towards the moonlit road and the wind-blown grasslands. ‘At least we could save torches tonight. Feels like we're running out of everything these days’, she thought sullenly. Every now and then snippets of conversation drifted up from the gatehouse's open window. Another yawn escaped the guardswoman’s lips as she jealousy wished her shift in the tower were over. She peered down at the small gatehouse below her. Light poured out from underneath the door, the open window that faced the grasslands, and the small smokestack. A shadow passed by the window every now and again as her squad mates moved around the gatehouse.

Her gaze drifted further down toward the gate itself. It was constructed with two large, sturdy, wooden doors set into a stone wall several persons tall. The walls that extended out from the gate, however, were constructed of wood rather than stone, and not extremely well constructed at that. Jagged edges stuck out from the wall from where repairs have been made or at least attempted. From the large doors extended at least 100 steps worth of poorly cobbled street. After a stumble off the much higher cobblestone road was a poorly cleared dirt road that extended deeper into the grasslands. A shambling shadow approached the edge of the cobbled road.

The guardswoman suddenly came alert when she finally noticed the shadowy figure wasn't a part of the scenery. She scrunched her face to further scrutinize the figure. It approached slowly, seeming to stumble every other step as it clung to a moderately sized stick. ‘Barely on its feet, poor thing... Who is that?’ The figure was hooded and their clothing seemed in shambles. Her focus, however, was drawn to the stick. A peculiar bendy body, stark black in the bright light of the three moons, and the top seemed to be extensively curled. As realization dawned on her, she found that she had already grabbed the large handbell from the nearby table and was ringing it overhead.

Clang-Clang! Clang-Clang! Clang-Clang!

"It's the Seeker! He's returned! Get out there and help him! Go! Go! GO! Don't let that grinning idiot die at the foot of the gate!" Roared the guardswoman, the entire town echoed with her powerful voice. Barely a moment passed before the gatehouse door burst forth and three guards rushed outside. They turned and spotted the shambling figure in the distance. It attempted to transition to the high cobblestone street but collapsed to their knees. "Shit, he's down real bad. Let's go!" Called the lead guard as she dashed toward the fallen figure.

For a moment all that could be heard was their urgent steps across the cobblestone, the alarm bell had fallen silent. The lead guard dropped and slid across the cobbles coming to a stop on one knee in front of the collapsed man.

The Seeker raised his head. Streams of tears weakly flowed from the corners of his closed eyes. He was smiling widely at the guardswoman. "Seeker, you’re going to be alright. Just try to keep still." The guard said woefully. She bit her lip to stifle the nausea that overtook her as she inspected him further. The others had finally arrived with torchlight to reveal his mangled form. Both arms barely held to his black staff. His left leg ended in a stump just below the ankle. The wound was poorly wrapped and what remained of the bandages were stained near black. However, the worst and most gruesome of his injuries was a massive chunk missing from his abdomen that gushed onto the grey stone.

Still, his smile grew wider, becoming toothy as he gleefully told her, "I… found… them."

A clatter startled the group as hands immediately went to swords. The ebonwood staff that Seeker had clung to fell out of his grasp and bounced against the cobblestones. Its black shape stark against the grey street. Quickly, the Seeker began to follow suit. The guardswoman gracefully caught him in her arms as he fell into her. A moment of silence passed as she waited for him to draw breath. He didn't. A moment passed, she sniffed then wiped at her eyes, alternating which hand held the Seeker up, before she gently laid him on the street. As she stood, the taller of the two guardsmen behind her finished dabbing his own eyes with a cloth as he rushed forward to collect the Seeker's staff and the backpack he wore. "Thanks, Volley. Be sure to get his journal to the library before you return to the gatehouse this evening."

"Yes, Captain Sender! I'll put it with his other ones." Said the taller guardsman as he turned to dash off.

"Volley, a moment please. Allow me to take the pack with me to the pool. He said he found them after all." said Sender as she reached out for the backpack.

"Of course Captain!" Volley replied. He fished a hand into the pack then took out a leather bound journal and handed the backpack to the guardswoman. "Good luck, Captain Sender." He added before he rushed off with the other guardsman towards the town gate. Captain Sender removed a cloth of her own from a pouch at her waist to dab her own eyes and nose. She donned the Seeker's backpack then crouched low over the Seeker. His trademark grin was now a mask of stone. She used the cloth to wipe his face clean as well before returning it to her pouch. Sender then removed his cloak and used it to cover his gore.

"Well done, Seeker. Let's get you out of here, shall we?" Sender said as she maneuvered the Seeker into a shoulder carry position. "One, two, three." She counted as she hoisted the deceased man's frail body onto her shoulder. She turned to the gates and noted the interior squad had just arrived to open the gates to allow her squad through. The light from their torches illuminated the guards and the doors themselves. On the doors was the city's emblem, a simple house with smoke rising from its chimney set on a field of red. The guards' uniform reflected the emblem, a simple red tabard over some padded leather armor. The city emblem fluttered in the soft breeze on the back of the guards' tabard.

Sender watched as the interior squad moved to occupy the gatehouse. However, the squad's Helm remained at the gate holding it open for Sender.

"Thank you Big Swole, you can let the gate close once I've passed."

"Of course my dear Captain. Oh, look at that, even death can't stop the Seeker from smiling. Poor fool, hope he found what he was after." said Big Swole gently. Sender nodded promptly in reply. Big Swole released a sigh of relief. He smiled to himself before Big Swole hurriedly ushered Sender under his massive arm and through the city gates. He easily stood over five heads taller than Sender so she had no issue when she passed the behemoth of a man's arm. After a few steps inside, the gate slowly swung shut with a soft thud . Without hesitation, Sender strode across the grey cobbles into the sleeping city. Very few lights remained lit at this time of night especially with all three moons out. Save for the select few sconces that lead further into the city. At the first lit sconce Sender turned right, stopped, and squinted into the dark. In the distance another sconce was lit. When she reached it she found another and she followed the trail of lit sconces all the while murmuring over her shoulder to the body of the Seeker.

"You know Seeker... They started calling me Sender because of you. I suppose I can't complain. Better to finally have a name rather than just being called Gate Captain. I hope you wrote down in that blasted journal of yours what happened to you this time. I never know if I need to send a request to the guild for a scouting party when you come back torn to shreds. Well, hopefully you'll be done with all this seeking business. No more of me going "Off with you now. Get to seekin'! Ain't your friends waitin' for you!?" Sender chuckled dryly, the sound echoed off the nearby buildings. Within fifteen minutes she reached her destination: the Council District. But, more specifically the large building with the large domed roof. The trail of sconces lead to the doors of this building and then off toward the opposite side of the district. A trail from the southern entrance of the district. Two massive iron doors were brightly illuminated and set into the building's well maintained stone exterior. Both doors were identically decorated with the city emblem surrounded by an intricate embossed design and adorned with a curved wooden handle. A pair of guards stood watch at the doors. Neither wore a helm but each held a shield and had weapons sheathed on their hips. They saluted once Sender entered the light, her position identified by her steel cap and the green cloak draped over her free shoulder.

"Evening, Gate Captain. What was all the ruckus at the hills gate? Was there an attack? Is that one the only casualty?" asked the guard on her left. His dark hand rested on the hilt of his mace and his bright eyes betrayed the excitement he held at bay.

"Evening, Shieldsman. No attacks tonight." She replied while turning slightly to show Seeker's face, "The Seeker returned tonight. He didn't survive his injuries this time."

"Damn... poor fucker. Well let's get him in there then. He'll probably still need to sit for a day or so before they'll put him in the bath." Then both guardsmen turned to push open their door. They struggled momentarily before the heavy ornate doors began to creak open. Candlelight poured from inside and temporarily blinded Sender. By the time the doors were fully open she no longer had to squint. She stepped through the doors and entered the foyer of the building. The room was furnished with a sofa, a pair of chairs, a table between them, a large hallway that continued deeper into the building, and a door that was slightly ajar. On the sofa sat a man in a plain white nightshirt and pants, with bleary eyes, and a mass of brown bedhead. His head was barely propped up by his arm on the end of the sofa.

Sender cleared her throat before greeting him, "Evening, Jerry."

The man sniffed, blinked a few times, squinted, then yawned out, "Evening Captain..." He squinted again, "Sender." Then he scanned Sender up and down, paying particular interest to the body on her shoulder. "That the Seeker over your shoulder or am I having a recurring nightmare?"

"No nightmares tonight Jerry. It's the Seeker. He returned not half an hour ago. This time it seems like he was successful."

"Really? Never thought I'd see that. Thought the guy was freakin' loony. Well let's take a look at'em then."

She held up a leather gloved hand to him. "Let's get to the pool first. Then we'll see what Seeker's brought." Sender said as she proceeded to walk toward the hallway entrance. Jerry shrugged slowly then stood and stretched. Sender promptly passed him by and entered the hallway. The hallway was lit partially by the candle stands from the foyer and the violet light spilling from behind the large sliding glass door at the end of the hallway. The mixture of the lights made for an otherworldly transition as Sender approached the end of the hall. An all too familiar chill crept through Sender as the light slowly lost all its warmth. ‘ It's as though I'm entering the afterlife myself, every single time. I hate this creepy place.’ By the time she reached the door Jerry was on her heels fumbling with a set of keys. He moved to the door's handle on the far right side of the hallway and quickly worked the set of locks on the door. With a sigh of elation at finishing with the final lock, Jerry pushed the sliding door across the entirety of the hall's length. Without a filter the violet light seemed to enter Sender. Her insides turned as she beheld the source of the light. Roughly twenty steps ahead of her was a substantial recessed pool set into the stone of the building. Handrails flanked the edges of the pool and led into it.

Eventually, the feeling passed and both Sender and Jerry uttered sighs of relief moments apart. Steeling herself, Sender approached the pool and peered over the edge into the depths. There she saw an infinity of unimaginably violet threads filled the pool, they undulated and pulsed as they unnaturally mimicked water. Sender stifled a shudder as the chill threatened to crawl through her again. She bit her lip to distract from the feeling then looked away toward the right side of the room. There she found more sofas, comfortable arm chairs, two small beds, and three closed doors. She approached the nearest bed and began to unload the Seeker. Once placed, she crossed his hands over his abdomen. When finished she turned and deflated onto a nearby sofa. Her metal armor bits made a noisy clatter as she did.

"Sorry." She said after noticing the sound startled Jerry.

Sender pushed herself back up and removed the straps of the backpack and pulled it round to her lap. The bag was much heavier than she realized now that it was on her legs. She turned it around searching for the toggle to open the bag. Once open she peered inside, then turned the bag over on the sofa to loose three large prismatic orbs that glowed faintly with the same light as the nearby pool. Then a hodgepodge of items tumbled out over the sofa and onto the floor. Jerry approached cautiously, careful not to trip or crush the newly made mess. Once at the sofa he delicately caressed the smooth surface of one of the orbs. With an effort he hefted the large sphere up. Sender removed her gloves and did the same with a second orb. It squished slightly in her grip but was solid otherwise. Inside glowed the unnatural, deep, violet light of the pools' threads and galaxy of prismatic sparkles. They both studied their orb for a few minutes before they exchanged orbs. Another few minutes passed then they both turned to examine the final orb together.

"Well, they seem fine. Though I've never seen a core damaged. With how long the Seeker's been looking for these I expected something..." Jerry said as he placed the final core back onto the sofa next to Sender.

"Different?" Interrupted Sender. "So did I. He prattled on and on about these three like they were heroes. I still don't believe half of what he says they've done. I don't think he ever did either."

Jerry yawned, "Well with what we've dealt with so far, it's not too far-fetched I'd say."

"Ducks aside, let's just hope they'll be more help than hindrance. From what the Seeker said I'd doubt they'd be useful on a farm or in a trade." mused Sender as she let her gaze linger on the iridescent haze rising from the pool.

"Ducks?" Jerry asked with raised eyebrows. Sender stopped for a moment. "It just sort of came out. Not sure what that even is, actually."

"Whatever you say Gate Captain. Now if you don't mind." He gestured toward the pool. "I'd like to get back to bed."

Sender nodded, stood, hefted a core, and handed it to Jerry who took it graciously. Core in hand, Jerry immediately started toward the edge of the pool. Sender tucked the remaining cores under each of her arms then followed Jerry. In a few strides Jerry arrived, lowered himself to his knees, and murmured, "In ya go." Then gently placed the core into the undulating waves of threads. The core floated for a moment before glowing brightly and then sunk into the infinite depths. "One down, two more" Jerry smoothly took the orb out under Sender's right arm and repeated the process. The orb floated briefly, glowed, and then sunk. "Last but not least..." Sender passed him the final core and he repeated the process a final time. Floated, glowed, and then sunk. "And with that Captain Sender... I'm going back to bed. I'll let you know when something changes."

"Thank you Jerry. Please let me know when Seeker has unraveled properly. I'd like to be here to put him to rest as well."

"I'll send a runner then." Jerry motioned for Sender to exit the pool chamber. To which she obliged. Barely a step outside the chamber Jerry had already begun to slide close to the large glass door. "It was a pleasure seeing you, Captain. Next time, let's shoot for midday instead of midnight, yeah?" Jerry said as the door closed with a soft click.

"I'll bring some coffee by tomorrow." Sender added as she watched him fumble with his keys.

"Oh, that'd be great actually. As long as it's not the slop from the guard dorm."

"Beggars can't be choo..." Sender started but she stopped as she heard something beyond the pool chamber door. A slick, and wet slap . She waited a moment for it to happen again but Jerry had fumbled his keys again and dropped them to the floor this time. She bent down quickly and stopped Jerry from retrieving the keys.

"Quiet a moment." whispered Sender. Her ears pricked with concentration.

A second, louder slap emanated from beyond the door. "There's someone else in there." She murmured, "Get this door back open." She and Jerry rose slowly from the floor. Sender slowly edged her sword from its sheath as Jerry fumbled with the locks, albeit much more quietly.

Slop. Slop. Slop. SCHLOP.

The noises ended with the loudest, wettest slap of all.

"Jerry," Sender gripped her sword and remained poised. "Were there any other cores in the pool?"

"N-n-no. Just the three we just put in. The S-s-s-skein's been clear for a week" Jerry stuttered as he clicked open the final lock. He timidly turned to meet Sender's eyes. After a deep breath, she curtly nodded.

"Open it."

After a brief hesitation, Jerry squeaked and shoved the door open as fast as he dared. The deep violet light poured through, unfiltered by the glass. Sender stepped through lightning fast and scanned the pool chamber. The light churned her guts again but she paid it no heed. The room was empty save for a singular mass of wet yellow that sprawled over a large section of the floor. Sender edged closer to the mass and noted a wet trail that led behind it to the pool's edge. A wet, tanned hand stuck out from the yellow tangles. It seemed to be reaching toward the door before it fell to the floor.

"Is it safe? Is there something in there with you?" Jerry called out from the hallway.

"It's safe, Jerry. Come join me." Sender replied. She sheathed her sword and released a sigh of relief before Jerry meandered up beside her.

"No way. One of them crawled out that fast? I've never seen anyone come out faster than two days before." Jerry squatted down next to the yellow mass. Sender joined him and watched as he struggled to move some of the wet tendrils out of the way. Purposefully he picked a large flap of yellow and flipped it up to reveal a closed eye underneath.

"That's the one right? The giant killer? How did Seeker describe her again?" Jerry asked.

"A mountain of overly curly golden hair..." Sender started thoughtfully.

"Well it's wet but I guess that's a mountain of gold hair." Jerry murmured.

Sender continued, "Warm tanned skin..."

"Yeah that's tanned. Looks dark in the lifeweave's light though."

"An overly large nose"

"Let's see...." Jerry said as he purposely moved more hair out of the way to reveal a large, straight, hawkish nose. "Wow he wasn't kiddin'."

"...and four heads taller than me!" Sender recounted in a satirical bubbly cantor at the end. She moved toward where the woman's feet should be and attempted to reveal them through the mass of wet hair. Legs, legs, legs, feet! "She's tall alright. Easily close to Big Swole in size."

"Might as well call you Goldie Locks with all this mess of hair you've got." Jerry said as he flopped a large mound of hair onto the woman's back. "Thanks for scaring the shit out of me, Miss Gold. Now let's get you some where comfy." Jerry motioned for Sender to assist him. "Here, help me move her to that third door over there. We'll set her up in one of the big resters." Jerry said as he moved to help clear away more hair so they could lift the woman. It took over ten minutes to move enough hair for both of them to get a good enough grip. The large mound of hair piled onto the woman's back swayed back and forth. Jerry chuckled at the sight as did Sender after he pointed it out.

"On three?"

"Yup."

"One, two, three." Sender counted as they both heaved upwards.

Carefully they edged their way to the closest door, it was marked with three bold vertical lines. Sender didn't see a knob on the door so she just shouldered through and it gave way easily. Inside was an empty, smaller pool with a reclined, stone couch set in the basin and a set of stairs that lead down. They gingerly descended the stairs and placed the seemingly sleeping woman on the couch. Sender climbed back out first. She allowed herself a moment before Jerry joined her above the pool. A shiver crawled freely over body. "By the weave." Muttered Sender to herself, her voice full of trembles.

Jerry adjusted the unconscious woman's hair to cover her and crossed her hands overtop her abdomen just as Sender had done with the Seeker. Satisfied, he climbed up with Sender and then pulled on one of the two large ropes behind the door. Soundlessly, threaded fluid flowed from the main pool into the smaller one. The basin filled quickly and Jerry released the rope just as the violet waves submerged the woman's face. Unsurprisingly, the pool soon became a massive tangle of wet golden hair. Jerry scratched his head and Sender sighed then turned to leave the room.

As they re-entered the foyer Jerry let out an exaggerated yawn and stretch combo. Then he meandered toward the side chamber’s door he had left ajar.

“Well Captain, I’m going to go have a nightmare now.” He said dryly.

"Good night Jerry."

"Good night Captain.” Jerry stopped in the opening of the side chamber then turned to Sender who was reaching for the front door handle.

“We still on for coffee tomorrow?”

Sender smiled, “Yeah, sounds great, Jerry.” Then she tore open the iron door, passed through, and closed it. Outside, the eager eyed guard jumped at her. Sender reflexively began to reach for her sword as the guard began asking questions, "Gate Captain, you were in there awhile! Did the Seeker bring back someone interesting? What happened? Was Jerry not waking again?"

“Peace. Please. Tonight has been a little too interesting for my taste. In fact I'll probably be having nightmares tonight too.” Captain Sender replied, strongly slapped a hand onto the guardsman's shoulder, and strode off into the night back to her post.

A note from THEBEEGTONK

Heyo, welcome to the end of the chapter! I hope you enjoyed the read and if you didn't then try the next one.  Keep that up until you run out of chapters.  Then bug me for more chapters because there wasn't enough yet.

Good evening and happy Sunday to tumblr. Hope y'all had a good one. Just got back from a weekend family trip. What a work out for the soul! I tell ya! But the good news! I finished Chapter 5: World Tour. Now I'll be working on the primp and polish for a few weeks. But, tumblr tonight I'll be giving you the prologue. The introduction to our main cast of supposed 'heroes' we'll learn their names later. For now, let's see what happens in the dirt and grime and dust of the training grounds of Home Town. I doubt anyone unsavory exists in a fantasy world... right? And of course, please leave some comments if you have the time.  Tell me what you liked, didn't like, the funny, the sad, the edgy, the errors, the theories and anything -- even running commentary!

Home Town: The Reformation Tour

Prologue: Out Hittin' Dummies

Complaints, hurrahs, battlecries, clangs, bangs, and crashes reverberated through the air. Through gritted teeth and exhaustion a stoic rookie paused to lean against his longaxe in the midst of the training grounds. Sweat streamed down his face as he took a moment of reprieve from the day’s training. “At least… '' the axeman groaned, “we could have done something a little more exciting on our first day… than hitting dummies.” He gripped the hem of his dull orange tank top and pulled it upwards. He dabbed the sweat from his brow which exposed his wide physique and light, warm skin.

A short distance away another rookie disengaged from her own wooden practice doll, a spear jutted from its wooden pectoral. Her chest heaved, sweat dripped from her tan fingers, and clumps of pale golden hair clung to her face. “I wanna leave the city just as much as you do. Restrictions aside with how well we began fighting these dummies - as you call them - we’d have been torn to shreds as soon as we left,” attested the spearwoman. She turned to plant her heavy boot against the practice doll in an attempt to dislodge her stuckfast spear. “Have you counted... how many times... you’ve hit your dummy?” she asked between pulls. “Specifically, where you wanted to hit?” With a final, zealous tug the spear gained its freedom from the wooden menace. The sudden movement caused the spearwoman to stumble into the taller man’s flank. Undisturbed, he scratched at the stubble on his chin while she reoriented herself. “I’ve hit mine about two hundred and eighty times now,” the spearwoman claimed as she crouched over the spearhead to check for damage. “Albeit, not every strike was true to my mark.” She trailed off while removing a chunk of wood that encased her spear tip.

“I can tell ya right now. I’ve hit that target one hundred and fifty-two times.” A fwip followed the statement as an arrow was fired into the distance. “And out of those? I think about forty-three were true to my mark,” the voice continued. The axeman watched as the arrow thunked amongst fellows in the outer ring of a distant target. The bowman twisted in place to face the duo, “Hah, one fifty-three!” he proudly proclaimed while he grinned widely. The bowman pumped his bow-arm in celebration and began to meander towards his companions. “I had, however, hoped that shootin’ arrows for an entire five hours...'' he gently shook his hand with an emphasis on his fingers, “...wasn’t gonna hurt my handsie so much.”

The axeman heaved a sigh as he grumbled, “I didn’t know we were counting. I was strugglin’ just to figure out how to swing this damned axe. At least, my dummy looks hurt.” He gestured towards a barely recognizable pile of hewn wood. A slap on his arm alerted him to the presence of the bowman at his side, his bow slung over his back. The shorter bowman’s poofy afro barely reached the axeman’s shoulder and his black skin glistened with sweat as well.

He tilted his head and gazed at the axeman's handiwork then whistled. “That looks painful. At least now ya know why there’s a training time requirement. Ta make ya realize it’s harder than ya thought it’d be.”

The axeman chuckled, “And, so you don’t accidentally disemem --”

“Hey curvy momma! Don’t waste ya time workin’ dem dollies. Come’n work on some real hard wood, yeah!?”

The trio exchanged looks of irritation. The bowman spotted a party of rookies that seemed to be wandering between training parties. He pointed past the spearwoman and the trio watched briefly as the party descended on a training duo half the field away. The axeman cleared his throat, an attempt to dismiss the distraction by changing topics.

“Ya know, I really like this city so far. It’s big, fancy, has lots to do, and most of all it’s easy to navigate.”

“Easy to navigate?” said the spearwoman as she raised an eyebrow. "Do you plan on getting lost sometime soon?”

"Plan to? No. Am I gonna? You bet!" replied the axeman gleefully.

"Well, I can agree that it is large and does have a good assortment of shops. But, the name..." the spearwoman trailed off.

“What’s wrong with 'Home Town'? The name is memorable. Really serves its purpose.” the bowman said as he began to stretch out his spindly arms. His gaze lazily scanned the buildings past his companions.

The axeman’s eyebrows jumped in response, “Wait, what? This city is called 'Home Town'?''

“Look… Don’t ask me. I just got here. I don’t name the places. I don’t even know what those flying things are…” the bowman grumbled as he gestured towards the entrance of the training grounds. There perched on a sign hanging off a building was a flock of strange multi legged, multi winged creatures. Their mandibles chewed on what was probably food held in grippers on the end of skinny, segmented arms. A guttural cry escaped the axeman as he recoiled at the sight.

The spearwoman perked up at that. “Oh, I actually know about that one!” she interjected excitedly. “On our way to the training grounds I stopped to look through the windows into the tavern just there. While doing so, I happened to overhear a local cursing at the, and I quote, ‘damned stingy, greedy ass, lunch stealing mugoons’ on the tavern’s sign. So, naturally I felt the need to ask about the lun--”

“Hoy, blondie, ya got a fat ass on you. Ya wanna come back wit me tonight? I love me a girlie wif cushion.”

A stream of golden locks whipped between practice dolls as another rookie fled the field. The fleeing woman tugged at the rear of her skirt as she ran. The trio turned to locate the source and quickly spotted the party from before. It seems that they had traveled a significant distance from where the trio last spotted them. As a result, they could distinguish the lead figure of an almost burly man with a large flat nose. He stood with his arms outstretched towards the fleeing rookie. “Ya dunno whatcha missing, slut!” he screeched before he returned to his gaggle of goons. They whooped, hollered, and exchanged hand slaps as they meandered away to hunt for their next victim.

“For a moment there… I thought he may have been speaking to you,” the bowman said in a low grumble as he flexed his bow hand. The spearwoman’s expression darkened as a gusty breeze lifted her massively wet, blond braid. An aggravated tapping emanated from the haft of her spear.

Goose flesh crept over the axeman, “I fear he’s going to test the wrong person, bowman,” he added, hefting his longaxe to his shoulder.

The bowman narrowed his eyes as his gaze rose from his companion to level at the gaggle of goons. “At this point I hope he does. It’ll be funny when he gets his ass beat,” he admitted while smiling and cracking his knuckles.

The tapping slowed as the spearwoman released a small chuckle. She then adjusted the fit of her boots and rose from her crouched position. “The creatures,'' she explained coolly, “are known for stealing bags or food left unattended. But, they have been known to take items directly from the hands of unsuspecting passerbys. As they did with the local’s lunch that he was carrying out from the tavern.”

“Well, I’m sure those magoos are some sort of rarity then, right?” the axeman asked hesitantly.

“Nope. Very common in most cities and their surrounding areas.”

“Great!” the axeman sarcastically cheered. “Super creepy, item stealing magoos that happen to be commonplace creatures! WHY!?”

“I’m sure it’s ‘cus of how easy it is to hunt meals that don’t fight or run. Even better if someone cooked it for ya too.” mused the bowman. He shifted his gaze back to the sign where the mugoons were perched. “Also, I’m pretty sure she said they were called ‘muh-goons’,” the bowman smirked. The trio stood for a moment while the breeze softened to brush against their hot faces. The din of the training grounds had subdued greatly in the fading afternoon. A gurgle broke the peace as the spearwoman laid a hand on her stomach.

“Well then! I suppose we should celebrate a great first day of training with a tasty meal at the Musty Mug tavern!” the bowman proposed.

“And a round of ale?” quipped the axeman.

The spearwoman chuckled as she responded, “And hopefully we can keep the mugoons from --”

“Hey, hey, hey!” bellowed the almost burly, flat-nosed man as he sauntered towards the trio, “That pole ain’t the only thing round here that gets hard when ya grip it, honey!” His posse scuttled up from behind him to surround the trio. “C’mon let’s see it then. Show daddy what them long, tan legs’re good fer.”

The spearwoman’s companions glanced towards her as her jovial smile melted to a cold fury. The lecher cocked his head as he closed the distance between them. “Are ya deaf? I toldja ta show me what them legs can do. Or do I needa spread’em myself, slut?”

A painful moment of stillness passed. The once calm breeze now gained ferocity as it carried with it the smell of metal, sweat, and dirt. The odors filled her lungs as the spearwoman took a deep breath. Her icy glare fixated on the flat-nosed man’s toothy smile. “I’m going to give you a fair warning. Walk away, flat-nose.” she threatened coldly.

“Wait a minute… ain’t chu them ones that crackpot Seeker been goin’ on about?” cooed the flat-nosed man. “Yeahhh, you’re that goldie-locks yeah?” A blast of wind blasted through the group. What was once a cooling summer breeze had become a wicked and biting whirl. “It looks like you could barely put a dent in dis here training dolly.” the flat-nosed man continued. He stood over the practice dummy next to the spearwoman, a clear look of disapproval on his face.

“How’s about you give up on this trainin’ and be my woman? I’ll make it wo–”

Crack.

Wood connected with the man’s jaw to align his flat-nose with the sky. The heel of a spear soared overhead. The spearwoman flowed like a gale, following the spear's momentum to pivot on her heel to slam a gusting sidekick into the flat-nose’s chest. The momentum proved too much though and it carried her far too forward into an awkward lunge. She wobbled while desperately steading herself to assess the aftermath. She smirked as the lecher-sized missile soared into the huskiest of the goons. The resulting crash sent the two toppling into a pristine practice dummy, smashing the dummy to bits in the process.

A flurry of motion followed. Immediately, the axeman brandished his longaxe in a wide arc. The tallest of the goons shouted in surprise as he reached for the sword at his belt, but was interrupted by the blunt side of the longaxe’s head. The force of the axe slammed into tall man's gut and the axeman bellowed. He heaved as he launched the tall goon into the pile of what was once his practice dummy. Simultaneously, the bowman with his longbow in hand, swept it into the back of the final goon’s knees, toppling him. On his journey to the ground a vision of the bowman’s longbow came crashing down onto his chest. A puff of dust kicked up as the goon bounced off the ground.

With her spear as a crutch the spearwoman pushed herself to her feet again. The winds calmed as well, the summer breeze returned as a cool breeze as it blew over the exhausted woman's body. The lecher's gang, however, remained motionless in the dirt. Nausea began to well in her stomach as her anxiety began to rise. ‘Surely that wasn’t enough to kill them, was it?’ Thankfully, a series of coughs and groans gushed forth from the grounded goons. Relief filled her as she finally released the breath she had been holding since her first strike.

“That-was-scarier-than-I-thought-it-would-be!” she gasped. “But damn, was it satisfying!” which earned her a weary chuckle from her companions as they relaxed.

“Are we gonna get arrested for assaulting them?” inquired the axeman coughing as he moved to join her.

“I doubt it. The grounds’ master mentioned that fights between rookies were to be encouraged... In a way.” answered the spearwoman.

“Wooo!” cried the bowman, ”Takin’ out the trash - legally!”

The group holstered their weapons. Then the trio stepped over the huddled mounds as they started toward the entry gate. Each of them stretched while walking in an attempt to alleviate the ache from their doubly sore muscles. The musk of sweat was overwhelming this close to the gate where the much larger parties diligently worked towards their training goal. The trio came to a halt behind a fresh party of rookies receiving their training orders from the grounds’ master.

“Forty hours must be spent on the training grounds ta earn your gate pass. There are dummies for ya ta practice on but feel free ta spar with other rookies. A real opponent will fight for their life. The dummies sit still beggin’ ya ta hit’em.”

The axeman snorted, interrupting the grounds’ master. He apologized, then hid his mouth behind a hand while continuing to snicker. His companions flashed quizzical expressions towards him. He stuck a thumb towards where they left the gaggle of goons as he explained,

Home Town: The Reformation Tour

Hello Tumblr. I am new in town. I'm here to show y'all my high fantasy novel in progress! I'll drop the beta synopsis below and probably post the Prologue in a few days. A little exposition: Home Town: The Reformation Tour serves are the starting point for my series exploring an untamed world, fraught with danger, marvels, and mysteries. I hope you enjoy joining my original characters as they travel, battle, and protect while trying to maintain some semblance of the mantle of Hero as it was thrust upon them. I'm hoping to create a work that allows the reader to drop into the world and really experience the character's journey. With gritty details and grimy realness mixed with over the top action, witty comedy, and deep lore. I've got a long, long road ahead with so much planned and I'd like to see some of y'all walking it with me.

Death. Rebirth. Death. Rebirth.

Three heroes' threads were severed, then they were stitched back together by mortal hands in the eerie, starlit-violet glow of the impossible pool house. Forced to stand. Branded as Reformed Heroes. And sent on the Reformation Tour.

Foes do not arrive by chance. They are knots in the fabric of fate—tangles meant to test, to shape, to challenge. Every step twists the tapestry of their lives, pulling them toward truths they cannot yet remember.

Above, the three moons watch, their pale light threading across shattered forms and strange lands alike. A lone hooded figure shambles toward Home Town, violet blood sparkling as if the heavens themselves have spilled within him, whispering a single, haunting phrase:

“I’ve found them.”