Chapter Text
This is the part Eben loves.
He's gliding through the forest on the back of his horse, Fairy, without anything to hold him back. He's free, unchained, untethered. The humid forest air whips through his bangs, red hair tangling into wild knots.
It's fine though. What does a bandit need vanity for? The rougher looking, the better. He remembers distinctly how difficult it had been to intimidate his victims when he was still soft-faced and doe-eyed. Now at 25, all he needed was some unkempt hair and wild eyes to subdue anyone unlucky enough to cross his path.
"Got your head in the clouds, Ebby??" Claudia jeers. The petite woman is just as skillful as him on horseback, and she darts ahead agilely to prove it.
Eben turns his head to her at the silly teasing, the scar in the corner of his mouth raising with a lopsided smirk.. He hasn't known her for long, but he already likes the dark-haired woman a lot. He even has hope that maybe she'll stick around and not stab him in the back, like every other accomplice he's ever had.
"Will you idiots slow down?! I'm on a damn mule while you two fools have god-forsaken thoroughbreds," a rough voice calls out.
Boris, on the other hand, is free to leave at any time. Eben knows the bastard has been eyeing up Fairy, no doubt looking to take off in the night with her and a bag of loot. Usually, he'd ditch an untrustworthy creep like that in the first backwater village he could find, but Eben still has use for him.
Specifically, the bandit had a sneaking suspicion he'd be in need of man's freaky strength during the next job. The village of Nǣdre Tor was secluded deep in the woods, and nobody in his circle of criminals had ever heard of anyone ever returning successfully from the place. He'd even heard rumors that traders went as far as refusing to enter the village, favoring doing business at the gate.
However, Eben knew that most bandits, in fact, were idiots. To be a bandit you were either too stupid to accept your lot in life as a farm hand, or there was something about you that kept you from entering 'polite' society. So the redhead didn't have a hard time imagining a bunch of smooth-brains storming a paranoid podunk with nothing but flimsy daggers and overzealous confidence.
Either way, he wasn't afraid. Worst case scenario? He dies. That was something every bandit had to be prepared for. Couldn't be much worse than this.
The woods became denser as the trio traversed deeper into the forest, tall evergreen pines looming high above them. It made sense most would avoid going this deep, usually folk avoided places like this where the monsters roamed.
Some beasts weren't anything to fear, Eben knows. He recalls his first interaction with a monster; It was a selkie on the beach with her pup. He'd been a teen then, new to a life of crime with nothing to show for it but ragged clothes and an empty stomach. He'd watched the seal-like woman cracking open oysters for the little one, who slurped them down happily.
Eben had expected her to flee into the water with the child when she saw him, or perhaps bare her fangs at him. But instead, she'd looked at him with deep, sad, eyes. The next morning, left in front of his tent, was a huge red snapper speared on a sharp stick.
His second encounter hadn't been so wholesome, though. The then 20-year-old had been sent out on a mission by a group of highwaymen to rob a farmer. When the place was found abandoned, Eben figured he and the other recruits would have to return empty-handed.
That was before they saw the creature in the field.
Standing elegantly shimmering in the morning sun, was a stunningly white unicorn. The others were convinced it would be a great idea to capture the beast and bring it back instead. Eben was unconvinced and argued against the idea strongly.
Later, when the unicorn—now stained pink with crimson blood, and dripping bits of viscera from its fangs— chased him down the road, Eben had never been so grateful he'd listened to his instincts.
That is to say, monsters were to be respected with a healthy dose of fear.
Though with any risk, came reward. Such an isolated village in a precarious such as this would have access to untapped riches ripe for the taking. Lots of monsters around meant access to rare items that couldn't be found in other areas. Jackalope horns, phoenix feathers, cockatrice scales...the potential was limitless.
Eben is pulled from his reverie as they approach the entrance to Nǣdre Tor. Surrounding the village was a massive wall of mossy boulders. Even the gate to the village was embedded into a large onyx-black boulder, a rusted gate forbidding their entry.
"Look at that carving!" Claudia exclaims in awe.
Eben follows her line of sight. Above the gate is a painstakingly carved depiction of a snake about to strike. He marvels at the artistry of the work; each scale is masterfully articulated into the smooth black rock. Even the smallest details of the serpent's eyes are delicately carved into the stone. "It's beautiful..."
"Beautiful?" Boris snorts, "more like freaky. Nothing says fuck off like a slimy snake."
Eben rolls his eyes, but Boris makes a good point, surprisingly. There's a message being communicated clearly; tread lightly.
Claudia approaches the gate, roughly punching Eben in the shoulder as she passes him. "C'mon you yellowbellies, I'm not gonna let that keep me from my loot."
Eben grins, resisting the urge to rub his sore shoulder, and follows her lead.
Getting into the village is easier than planned. The bandit had figured their ragtag group might be met with some suspicion or outright hostility, but the guard only side-eyes them when they request entry. He doesn't even have any weapons, Eben notes.
They don't get a much warmer welcome once inside. The locals stare the newcomers down, wary. Eben pulls his hood more securely over his head, the last thing they need is to get run out of town over his pointy ears.
Boris leans over, whispering to Eben. "Look! Everyone in this village is wearing jewelry! We hit the jackpot!"
True to the man's word, every woman, man, and child seemed to wear a pendant of an intricately carved serpent around their neck.
It wasn't just that, either. At every entrance to every home, there were paintings, statutes, and carvings of serpents. Even on the bridge they passed over, there were snakes carved into the rail. It was a little off-putting, to say the least.
Eben tried to clear his mind by stroking Fairy's mane. He was allowing himself to get spooked over nothing. It's just a creepy village, nothing more.
Soon, they approach their target. The market was bustling, the townspeople eagerly buying and selling various goods. Eben eyes up each stall, trying to judge which might be the best to start with. His eye is caught when he notices an artisan selling wares. With how much this town seems to adore its pendants, this would be a good place to start.
He nods in the direction of the target to his companions. They follow him as he dismounts his horse and approaches the stall.
Boris stands to the side on stand-by as Eben and Claudia wave in greeting to the man polishing his goods. Eben lets Claudia do the talking here, her sweet voice and soft smile are great at putting people at ease.
"Salutations!" She chirps. "How are you on this fine day, sir?"
The man looks a little dubious at the strangers approaching him but doesn't turn away a potential sale. "Salutations, travelers. Can I interest you in some hand-carved jewelry and statues?"
Eben notices a young girl peeking from behind the man. She doesn't greet them at all, nervously tracing the ivory pendant hanging from her neck instead. The bandit feels a small stab of guilt for what they're about to do, but shakes it off. Nobody had to die today, they'd take what they needed and leave.
Claudia oohs and ahhs at the arrangement before her. Eben flushes as she giggles and pulls him towards her, pressing her chest into his arm. "Oooh honey, will you buy this for me? Please?" She points at one of the pendants, a green malachite stone carved into yet another serpent.
"No," the artisan growls.
Claudia jolts at the sudden firmness of the man's voice, tightening her grip around Eben's arm.
The elder seems to realize his mistake, as he hastens to correct himself. "The serpent pendants are for residents of the village only...can I interest you in perhaps a unicorn, instead?"
Claudia adapts quickly. "Ooh, love, please buy it for me??"
Eben has to fight rolling his eyes. She really is teasing him with this game of pretend, isn't she? He sighs as he pulls a few gold coins from his satchel. The redhead hands over the coins to the man, who then does exactly what they planned; he unlocks a small chest to deposit the payment.
Before the man has time to react, Claudia vaults herself over the edge of the table and kicks the man away. He tumbles to the ground with a pained thud and a scream from the child.
The three of them unsheathe their swords to the gasps of several villagers. Eben swings his sword around the square, directing it at every onlooker. "We don't want trouble, just your gold. Bring it now, or face the consequences."
A panicked frenzy consumes the villagers, but Eben and his crew are calm. They've been through this before. Claudia goes from stand to stand, person to person, taking anything precious and shiny. The caught villagers whimper and cower, but none try to fight back.
In fact, it's puzzling. Even the largest men they meet don't dare challenge them. Stranger yet, Eben notices none of them have weapons either. Even in the most peaceful towns, there was someone with a dagger. Was this a town of pacifists?
Things go from strange to outright freakish when a loud church bell begins to toll in the distance. All of the villagers seem to freeze in unison before falling to their knees, covering their eyes.
"What the fuck?" Boris curses.
"Eben, what's going on?" Claudia asks, worried.
The redhead tenses, feeling something is deeply wrong. "Get on your horses. We're leaving, now."
Claudia nods swiftly, attempting to heave the heavy sack of coins onto her horse.
"Claudia, leave it! We're going!" Eben shouts.
Boris glares. "I'm not leaving empty-handed!"
Without warning, Boris strikes Claudia, heaving the heavy sack onto his shoulder after ripping it violently away from the petite woman. Eben attempts to rush over to aid his friend, but he's thwarted by a swift slash to the stomach as the brute mounts Fairy. The redhead is knocked to the ground, wheezing in pain.
But Fairy won't move. Her ears are pinned in fear and she stamps on the ground, but the horse refuses to move even as Boris berates the equine. Eben's mouth goes dry when he sees that his horse has firmly shut her eyes. Claudia sees it too, and he can only watch as she covers her eyes, running blindly in the opposite direction.
As he watches her abandon him from his position on the ground, he hears a new sound— bells. Not the church bells, it's what sounds like sleigh bells. The sound seems to inspire an all-consuming dread in the townspeople who whimper in fear.
Eben follows Fairy's example and squeezes his eyes shut as he listens. The horse is screaming and stomping now, and Boris seems to share her fear at whatever is out there.
"No! Get back! Get back!" He screams.
But whatever is out there, it seems stronger than even Boris. There's a heavy thud and a choked-off scream before the man goes silent.
Eben doesn't want to meet whatever is strong enough to kill that brute so quickly. The bandit attempts to get up, but the laceration on his abdomen screams in protest as he tries. The only thing he is capable of is scrabbling back away from whatever has efficiently and brutally killed his accomplice.
Suddenly, Eben jolts as he feels small hands latch onto his arm. He hears the panicked sobs of the child from before as she clutches to him in fear. She whimpers as the sound of bells gets closer.
He holds the child close and brings the sword to a point at the sound. Underneath the chaotic chimes of the sleigh bells, he can hear something massive slithering around. A snake, he thinks. A gigantic, enormous, snake.
"Get back!" He screams.
Eben slashes blindly at the sounds nearing him. The thing takes the opportunity to strike; an ice-cold hand grabbing him by the wrist. The girl screams as she's yanked away from the bandit. He thrashes, attempting to free his wrist from the iron-like grip. "Don't hurt her!"
Eben screams as both his hands are pinned down and he feels razor-sharp fangs pierce his neck. Suddenly, the world is muted, the pain is gone, and Eben's whole body feels warm and fuzzy. The last thing he hears before slipping into a deep sleep is the metallic tinkling of distant bells.