Anglerfish

A band of brigands eyed the caravan in the distance, sizing up their forces. The remnants of a long-disbanded free company, the remaining mercenaries did what they could to survive. Bounties, odd jobs, and... Less scrupulous work. Morality did not always keep one fed. In fact, as they had learned, it often took food from their plates. So when they learned a small, unknown mercenary band had captured a recent bounty – and a valuable one at that – it didn’t take long for them to follow. Food on another’s plate was food they could take.

“How many able-bodied men do they have?” asked the leader.

“It’s hard to tell,” said one of the brigands, eyeing the caravan with a spyglass. “Most are riding in the wagons themselves. I think they have women and children with them too.”

“Women you say?” the leader smiled. “Now that’s interesting...” He then stepped forward, turning to address his men. “This is far from any town or checkpoint. No riders, no guards, no help coming for them. I say we get nice and close, act like fellow travelers, and when their guard is down, we strike! Who’s with me?!”

““Aye!!”” the brigands cheered.

“Then saddle up, boys. We’re eating good tonight.”

After the plan was set, the leader got on his gurok and led the group down the road. The caravan was suspicious of them from the get-go, but the leader was quick to placate their worries.

“Hold, we’re just travelers. The road is long and lonely. Might we ride beside you for a time?”

The head of the caravan, an older man with long dark hair streaked with grey... Smiled.

“That much is true,” he said. “Ride with us, strangers, and tell us your stories.”

The brigand leader smiled in turn. “Gladly.”

Two men talking of this and that filled the silence that pervaded the long, dusty road. Once it seemed the caravan had grown complacent with their presence, the brigand leader changed topics.

“So... That man in shackles you have. Is he that outlaw, Jabez?”

“Noticed him, did you?” the caravan leader glanced back. “Aye. He was a troublesome man to catch, but it was worth the effort. We plan on meeting with some riders hailing from Felstat in the next town. Once the exchange is made, we won’t have to worry about work for some time.”

“I’m sure that will be a relief. Although...” The brigand leader’s words trailed off, realizing the caravan had stopped. He raised a hand, signaling to the others, then turned his gurok around. “Is something wrong, friend? Why did you stop?”

“No particular reason,” the caravan leader said. He set his left hand down on his wooden seat. By the time the brigand leader saw the carving in the wood glow, it was already too late. A great barrier was erected from the front of the caravan to its back. And as the brigand leader looked up the hills to his left, he saw scores of arrows raining down.

“It’s a trap!!”

But his cries came too late. Over a dozen men were killed, with many more injured. The brigand leader looked around for a path, a place to ride to for safety. He dug his heels into his gurok to hurry it ahead, but by the time his comrades were ready to follow, the caravan’s wagon covers flipped open, and over fifteen warriors leapt out to mop up the remaining brigands.

“Attack!!” shouted Jabez, and both he and the other caravan warriors fell upon the brigands like a tidal wave, washing over them with fury and steel. The brigand leader, in a panic, did his best to hurry his gurok forward, but an arrow struck his heart, knocking him from his riding beast. The frightened gurok fled down the road. It was over as quickly as it began, and the brigands were no more.

---

“Another job well done,” said Jabez, searching a body on the ground for coin and useful trinkets. “This marks our seventh catch this week.”

“I didn’t think this plan of yours would work, but it’s turned out to be quite lucrative,” said Samu, pilfering bodies as well. “You think it will work on the Company of the Spade, too?”

“That I can’t be certain. It depends on how quiet we can keep this.”

“Will you two hurry up?” asked Tuuli, walking down the hill. “If we linger too long, we might run afoul of riders.”

“Just a little longer,” said Jabez. “Kela and her clan are helping loot as well.” He then noticed a decent pair of gauntlets on one of the dead brigands and started eyeing them up. “Hmm... The metal seems thicker on these. A bit rough in design, though. Do you think they’d match the rest of my gear?”

Tuuli gave Jabez a look of mild disgust and walked off, leaning against one of the wagons while Jabez and the others finished looting. Once the time was right, Tuuli, Reijo, Seela, and a few others gathered around the battlefield.

“All right, everyone. Together!” said Reijo. And with a coordinated spell, the ground beneath them opened up. The tangled roots below grabbed hold of the dead bodies, pulling them in before the ground was sealed back up. Tuuli, who had a fine eye for detail, worked to restore the grass and foliage until one could hardly tell the difference. It was as if the battle had never happened at all.

“Every time I see it, it’s still a wonder,” said Sullivan. “The way their druid magic splits the land and heals it just as quick... Truly marvelous.”

Jabez watched as the catkin wizard scribbled some notes in his journal. The way he held the quill in his paws and moved it with such swiftness and grace filled Jabez with a similar sense of wonder.

“You have wonderful handwriting, Sullivan. Has anyone ever told you that?”

“M-me? My handwriting? Well, um... Not recently. It was a skill I picked up on after I escaped my... Confinements.”

Jabez’s smile faded, reminded of Sullivan’s hardship. Yet even with this reminder, it only spoke to how hard-working people like Sullivan were. He did not know the catkin’s story just yet, but he knew that a life of slavery robbed people of many years. Years of training, of opportunity, of living.

It was then that Jabez felt a tug on his cloak.

“Papa,” said Iris. “It’s time to go.”

“Oh! Right, right. Let’s get back in the wagon, then.”

With everyone gathered back with the caravan, Reijo flicked the reins on his gurok and led the wagons forward. Jabez, meanwhile, fit his circlet back over his head to disguise himself again. Iris sat across from him, looking out the back of the wagon for a moment.

“Papa, you called this plan Anglerfish, right?”

“That’s right. Were you curious about something?”

“Well... I’ve been curious about it for a while. I just assumed it was a fish from a faraway place, but not even Sullivan knows what it is. Could you tell me about it?”

That’s right, I forgot the animals in Elonia are totally different from Earth’s, Jabez thought.

“I can tell you, but it’s a little scary. Do you still want to hear about it?”

Iris clenched her fists and donned a serious expression – a cute gesture she often did when she wanted to look tough.

“I’m not afraid. You can tell me!”

“What’s this? A scary story? Kela is curious,” said the disguised goblin.

“Gatu want to know too!”

“Us too!” said the other goblins, Aba and Yev.

Soon enough, anyone who could fit in the wagon or was walking beside it moved in close as Jabez regaled them all with the tale.

“Not many people know about this creature. I’ve only ever heard about it in stories myself, but down in the dark depths of the ocean lies the dreaded anglerfish. As you no doubt know, most fish have small compact bodies, long sleek bodies, or bodies that are thick and powerful with muscle. But the anglerfish is a peculiar creature. Round and lumpy, it has no need for efficiency with how it hunts. Now you might be thinking, ‘How does it find prey if it’s so dark?’ And that is where the creature’s cleverness comes into play. At the top of its head is a long strand of flesh called a lure, and on the lure’s tip is a small orb that emits light. This light attracts its potential prey, drawing them in, and obscuring the anglerfish itself. Once the time is right, the anglerfish unlatches its jaws, revealing dozens of needle-like teeth, and gobbles up whatever gets too close.”

Jabez used his hands as part of telling the story, shaping them and gesturing as if to make shadow puppets. At the end, he clapped his hands together to close the anglerfish’s jaws, causing a fright in some of the nearby listeners (particularly the young goblins).

“So that’s why you named your plan after it...” said Iris. “You’re the lure, and the rest of us are the jaws.”

“See, you get it,” Jabez smiled. “We probably can’t use the same trick forever, but at least this way we can draw out troublesome bounty hunters and deal with them on our own terms.”

Kela nodded along. “Makes travel safer. Brings many shinies. Is good plan.”

“The sea holds much wisdom,” said Demetra from outside the wagon. “We could all stand to learn more from it.”

With the story over, everyone went back to what they typically did during their travels. Demetra walked silently beside the wagons as a guard, Kela kept her clan occupied by teaching them handicrafts, Jabez compared his spoils from battle to see which gear was best, and Iris looked out the back of the wagon, watching the road of today fade into yesterday.

---

Captain Bowen led his men down the road, stopping for a moment to look around. His riding gurok seemed nervous, though he wasn’t sure why.

“It says it smells like blood,” said Aurora, riding up to Bowen’s side.

“Blood? But where? I don’t see any sign of battle.”

“That may be so, but a gurok’s nose never lies.”

“Duly noted. Everyone, stay on your guard. There might be trouble up ahead.”

Bowen nudged his gurok along, and the mercenaries continued their travels. Minutes later, Bowen saw an old man in tattered robes pulling along a saddled gurok. The gurok seemed agitated, but not so much as to attack the old man.

“Hold. Something’s not right.” Bowen dismounted, gesturing for Alech and Aurora to follow behind. The three approached the old man, realizing he was singing quietly to himself.

“... And ghosts don’t talk, but they surely watch, watching us sailing by.”

“Greetings,” said Bowen, walking up to him. “We’re travelers on something of a manhunt. Have you seen anything unusual lately?”

“Anything unusual, you say?” the old man said in a dry, raspy voice. “I’ve seen quite a lot! What kind o’ man are you huntin’, traveler?”

Bowen pulled out the wanted poster, showing it to the old man. “We’re looking for someone named Jabez. He’s a murderer that caused a lot of trouble back in Felstat. Have you seen him?”

“Have I? I’m not so sure...” the old man scratched his head. “But I’ll tell you this! This road... Is cursed!”

“Cursed?”

“Yes indeed. I’ve heard tell of a ghostly caravan that sometimes appears. Any who get too close are never heard from again. Some say they’re demons, others say they’re spirits of the 50 Year War, swallowing up the survivors out of envy... And hate.” The old man then got uncomfortably close, staring up at Bowen with his one good eye. “But don’t take it from me! This here gurok saw the whole thing! Didn’t you?” The old man tugged at the creature’s reins.

Bowen glanced to Aurora, who nodded. She then moved closer, setting a comforting hand on the gurok’s head. Afterwards, she closed her eyes and listened.

“There was... A great battle here,” said Aurora. “Many men ensnared in a trap. This one’s rider was filled with fear and tried to get away.”

“I see...” nodded Bowen.

“Do you think it’s Jabez?” asked Alech.

“I’m not sure. We can’t ignore this, though. Even if it’s not Jabez, they’re still a threat to us. Let’s keep moving.”

Bowen and the others left the old man’s side and saddled up, riding down the road. As the mercenaries passed him, the old man called out to them all.

“Beware! Beware the curse!! They thought they were safe too until the jaws closed shut around them!!”

Rumors continued to spread along the main road of a mysterious force gobbling up bandits, mercenaries, and even riders. But no one could figure out who was behind the disappearances, for the hunter was clever, slinking back into the dark as quickly as they came.