Hunters - Rising, Page 2

  Chapter 1

  The sun broke over the horizon and lit up a white-faced mountain. Several workers, already sweaty, chipped away at its rocky face. Pick-axes broke away slabs of granite to be hauled to stone-cutters. Chisels tapped away at marble, carefully extracting small pieces to be taken to craftsmen for polishing and shaping. The tapping of chisels and steady beat of pick-axes echoed off the white mountain walls but one tool was indiscreetly louder than the rest. Loud clanging crashes rang out again and again as an axe crashed against the rock and chomped away at the mountain. The axe was cutting out a large chunk of marble, which was almost ready to fall to the ground. The loud racket caught the attention of several other workers.

  “Hey Grimey, isn't that chunk of marble a bit large for the stone-crafters?” a worker said, beads of sweat dripped down his brow freely as the sun warmed the morning air. Workers rose early in order to do most of the mining before the sun got too hot. Miners would load up on rocks to trade and sell to craftsmen. With marble, the smaller and rounder rocks were often the big sellers.

  “Who said anything about them crafters, eh Marty?” Grimey said, his voice rough, “This one's for me.”

  Grimey had been working on cutting out a piece of marble and with a final overhead swing of his axe a chunk roughly two square feet in size broke off and fell to the ground with a thud. Satisfied, Grimey holstered his axe across his back, bent his knees and hoisted the heavy rock up in his arms while being careful to keep his back straight. With a grunt he lifted the rock easily and cradled it against his chest. Marty stared wide-eyed, always impressed by the burly man's strength but also amused at how Grimey's beard brushed the top surface of the marble. Its first polish.

  “Can't be up here just for the traders and crafters. I like to keep a few cuts for myself.” Grimey said. With that said, his work for the morning was over and Grimey made his way along the pathway that wound along the mountainside and eventually led down the mountain into Quarry Town.

  Grimey strolled through the houses and workshops along the north side of town. Kitchens were alive as wives cooked breakfast for the early morning farmers, stone-workers, blacksmiths, and the many other men who rose at predawn to do their work. The aroma of breads, bacon, and meats filled the air.

  He passed a few people along the road who marveled at how Grimey casually carried a chunk of stone through the town. It wasn't the only way he stood out either. Grimey was the only one in Quarry with a full beard, he spoke with a rough, raspy voice, and he had a scar that ran vertically over his right eye. Grimey was also one of the largest men in town. He was tall and powerfully built with a strength developed from years of hard work in the mountain.

  Despite his rough exterior, most in Quarry had grown to know Grimey as a jolly person. Those that passed him greeted him kindly. And they didn't question why he was carrying a large piece of marble. The people of Quarry generally left the man to his own.

  Grimey continued along the road and passed by the White Rock Tavern and Inn at the center of town. The White Rock housed travelers, professional drinkers, and the like. It appeared lifeless this early in the morning but it would surely come to life near sunset.

  After passing the tavern Grimey followed a path that led to the southeast region of town. A modest house with an equally modest barn marked McGrady's farm. Livestock grazed within their fences and crops were just starting to sprout out from the ground. McGrady produced enough to feed himself and his wife, Marian, throughout the year and have a little left over to take to market for a small profit. Grimey let a small smile wrinkle his beard as he passed the farm. He respected McGrady's self-reliance. A little ways past the small farm stood a modest cabin attached to a small workshop. Grimey's home.

  Large chunks of granite and marble, not unlike the piece of rock Grimey was carrying, outlined a path from the dirt road to the front door. Each rock was broken from the white mountain and shaped by Grimey's own hands to decorate the outside of his home. It also gave him an excuse to take rock home for his own hobby, which very few knew of. The marble he carried this day would not grace the front of his cabin but would go straight to the workshop to be chiseled and carved.

  Waiting for him at the doorstep was a basket filled with fruits, vegetables and a few cuts of meat. Grimey's smile grew a little more. He also appreciated the gifts his neighbor would leave from time to time. Since his hands were full, he propped opened the front door with his hip and used his feet to kick and slide the basket inside. Some fruits and vegetables fell out and spilled onto the floor. No matter though, a little dirt and dust just adds flavor, Grimey reasoned. He left the basket and the scattered mess on the floor and headed to his workshop at the back of the cabin.

  Grimey's home was simple. He entered into a small common area with a quaint kitchen area to the left. A small pile of firewood was stacked on the floor to provide a flame for the stove. The common area extended to the right. There was a round wooden table with two chairs, one of which hadn't been moved in so long that dust had formed an outline on the floor. Along the far wall was a fireplace with another pile of firewood stacked on the floor. There wasn't much furniture in the room. Grimey had stuffed an oversized burlap sack with cotton, grass, leaves, and other soft material to form a makeshift sofa which was placed in the center of the room near the fireplace.

  A hallway extended to the back of the house. A door to the right led to Grimey's bedroom, fully equipped with a bed and window. Wooden floorboards creaked beneath Grimey's feet as he made his way down the hallway, passed his bedroom, to another door at the end of the hall. This door led to the Grimey's workshop.

  The workshop was an open space with a fireplace in the near right corner. A forge and anvil was set up near the left wall which was lined with a variety of different axes, most of which had dulled blades from chopping into rock face of the white mountain. Below the axes were a row of hatchets with sharpened pristine blades. At the center of the wall hung a large axe with a heavy, finely sharpened blade, and a sturdy wooden handle tipped with a metal pommel. Grimey's great-axe. Against the opposite wall was a workbench lined with chisels, hammers, rags, and different types of paper of varying textures all used for shaping, smoothing, and polishing rocks. The wall that connected to the main cabin was lined with shelves displaying several stone-works. At the center of the shelf was a stone mug carved from a single square-foot chunk of marble. It sat atop a pile of stone ice cubes carved from the same piece of marble. Nothing was quite as refreshing as a chilled mug of ale. The back wall of the workshop wasn't actually a wall. It was a large double-door that opened to the back of the cabin where Grimey could head into the nearby woods or walk over to McGrady's.

  Grimey set his new chunk of marble on the workbench. He'd tend to it later. He pushed open the double-doors at the back to let in the fresh morning air and he took a look outside. The woods, a few hundred meters away, swayed in the breeze but there was something odd that caught Grimey's eye. A movement of some sort in the trees. Grimey had thought he saw a streak of something purple in the trees. Or were his eyes playing tricks? No matter. It concerned him little. If anything happened, he'd deal with it then. Now was the time for breakfast. And it was waiting for him on the floor.

  Little did he know, however, that something in the trees had been watching him since he got home. It waited for an opportunity to get at the man with the basket of food and now was its chance. The creature had almost closed its own window of opportunity by being spotted but the man didn't seem to notice and had gone back inside leaving the double-doors wide open. Saliva dripped from its fangs, its yellow eyes focused on the doorway, and the creature spread its wings to take flight.

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