“This has to be the smallest port town in all of Drorin. In all of the world, for that matter,” Rel said, his shoulders slumping as shared the carriage seat with Leona. “There’s likely not more than forty-five families here.”

“It’s a seasonal town,” Durnst stated as he walked alongside them. “We’re about a month early for the influx of trade, what with Glacier Pass is still thawing. Notice how the ground all around the city, even as far as the woodcutter’s mill at the edge of the forest, lacks grass?”

The two of them nodded.

“Tents and makeshift shelters get propped up, and for about six months Cantford will seem almost as large as the capital, though without any of the tall buildings,” Durnst finished.

“So there’s a chance for culture, yet,” Rel mused.

“You mean there’s a variety of women,” Leona said to correct him, and smirked.

“Obviously. What greater measure of culture is there?” The question sounded as innocent as he could make it.

Leona bit back her retort. She’d grown to understand that while Rel was a womanizer, he was also open and clear about it. She’d begrudgingly given him a small measure of respect when he’d proved to remember the name of every single woman with whom he’d shared a bed. The list was long, but he knew and could describe each of them. That, at least, was not something she could fathom any of the men she’d known in Yareswen ever being capable of.

Any other anger she may have had about his proclivities was mollified by the countless times she’d seen the genuine smiles on women Rel had been with on previous trips upon their next visit to their towns.

She looked down from the carriage’s other side to see Colm’s jaw go slack as he took in the ocean beyond the town below them. The boy’s open fascination with new things warmed her heart. She’d been an only child, but this Colm was fast becoming a little brother to her. While she loved her parents, this group felt more like what family should than hers ever had.

“Pretty, isn’t it? The way the sun glistens off the water as though it were made of glass,” she said softly.

Colm simply nodded as he walked alongside her, eyes fixed on the water.

“I can barely tell where the water ends and the sky begins,” he finally said.

As they approached the town, Leona considered their purpose in coming here. “Do you really think there’s a large enough population that we’ll find work here, Durnst?”

“From what we overheard at the inn the other night, something is amiss. What would trouble a small port town off-season, if not a dire beast? It seems as good a lead as any. Plus the Oafish Ox has decent beds and an incredible stew they keep simmering for days on end.”

Leona thought she heard Colm’s stomach grumble from where she sat. The boy’s appetite was bottomless. “Well, I for one wont turn down a soft bed,” she said with a sigh.

They were greeted with smiles and nods as they entered the town. The wooden palisades were short and beginning to rot. Leona figured Brash could reach the top of them flatfooted if he tried.

The inn was the tallest building in town, standing three stories high. A smattering of other buildings had second stories, which gave a little bit of texture to the town’s skyline as the sun began to sink behind the it.

As they approached the Oafish Ox Inn Leona took notice on the state of disrepair the town was in.

“Time has not been kind to Cantford, it seems,” she heard Durnst mutter softly.

The others remained quiet, though their heads turned to take it all in. Leona agreed, and found it hard to believe that a town with thriving trade for half the year wouldn’t be capable of maintaining a better state of repair.

As they reached the Oafish Ox’s entrance, she could see that one of the two chains upon which the wooden sign hung was almost rusted away. The placard which showed a fat ox knocking over a farmer would likely snap free of the chain within the year.

Leona and Rel left it to the others to stable the horses and instead entered the Oafish Ox to barter rooms and food.

Rel swept a bow to each of the barmaids they past on their way through the busy dining area to the bar, greeting each with a formal “M’Lady”. Leona rolled her eyes but didn’t comment as she heard them each respond with a giggle.

“Greetings,” Leona said to the innkeeper as she reached the bar. His beard was trimmed to short mutton chops, giving red color to his otherwise pale cheeks. While not grotesque, a jolly beer belly bulged over his belt. A testament to the quality of the tavern’s ale, she supposed.

“Well met,” he returned, wiping a tankard dry with a dirty cloth. “What can I do for ya?”

“Three rooms, if you please, and I’ve heard tell that your stew is quite famous.” At the sight of the cloth Leona suddenly wondered whether she should trust Durnst’s judgment about the food.

“We’ve only got two rooms open at the moment,” he responded with a sigh. “A few of the farmers out near the woods have shacked up here these past few nights due to the monster that’s been said to be prowlin’ these parts.”

Leona tried to stifle her own sigh, disappointed she wouldn’t have her own room for the evening. She forced a smile instead. “Two will be fine, with meals this evening.”

The man nodded, accepting her coin and sliding her two keys. “Third floor, last two rooms on the right. Meals will be ready by sundown.”

She nodded and turned to hand a key to Rel, only to find him leaned up against the far wall of the tavern where he engaged two local women in small talk. With a shake of her head, she left to find the others.

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Colm shoveled another heaping pile of the mystery meat, vegetables, and thick broth into his mouth as he listened to Durnst and Brash speak with one of the local farmers who had fled his land and brought his family to the Oafish Ox two days prior. It was the third such interview they’d held since the food arrived.

“Took three of my cattle just three days ago, it did,” he heard the stout man say. “An’ that’s after I lost my two bulls! I’ve none left to breed, and with the other cattle I’m losing, there’s no way we can keep up the farm.”

The man sniffled and frowned as Colm took another bite.

“And it’s a bear, you say?” Durnst asked as he set his tankard down.

“Biggest damned bear you’ve ever seen, I tell you. I don’t have no better word for it, no sir.”

“A Dire Bear, then,” Brash mused. “Haven’t taken down one of those yet. Are there many bears ‘round these parts?”

“Not like this one, but we sight ‘em now and then sure. This one though, it’s at least twice the size of any bear we’ve ever seen!”

Colm had never seen a bear. Nevertheless he imagined a large, rotund mass of dark brown hair and muscle that he instinctively knew was a bear. He shook his head at a memory he didn’t remember having and reached for his ale. Looking up he watched Rel spinning in dance with the barmaid that had brought them the delicious stew. The innkeeper’s daughter, he realized, and wondered if Rel would have them all kicked out before morning.

“Thank you for your time, kind sir. You can be certain we will begin our search at your farm on the morrow,” Durnst said as he rose.

Colm watched him shake the man’s hand, then rejoin them at the table as the farmer walked back to his family.

“I suppose it was only a matter of time before whatever is turning these beasts into Dires found a bear,” Brash said. “Wish we knew what in the nine hells was causing it.”

Durnst remained silent as he took another swig of ale, then sighed.

“Could it be a plague?” Colm asked as he sadly dropped his spoon into his now empty bowl.

“As good a guess as any. They’ve been around since my grandfather’s time, but they were very rare back then. It wasn’t until I joined the k— well, it wasn’t until I was an adult that a courageous few like Durnst here began to hunt them. These past four years though… It seems as if the pace of sightings is increasing,” Brash responded.

Durnst nodded. “It appears so. I’ve hunted more dire beasts these past few years than the entire decade prior.”

Leona returned and took the seat across from Colm.

“It’s the same with the others,” she said as she snatched Colm’s ale and drained the last of it.

“Hey!” he protested, but let it go as he saw her wave the tankard in the air and a server approached to refill it. She took one more drink and passed it back to him. “Get your own,” he grumbled without malice as he shielded it close to him on the table.

Leona chuckled but quickly turned serious.

“It’s bad. They’re going to have a rough time of it, even if we act fast. Trade won’t arrive for another month or so, and apparently the taxes have gone up every year since the new king took control.”

“Explains the state of everything,” Brash said as he picked at a splinter of wood poking up from the table.

“It gets worse. They’ve heard tell of a soldiers being sent to the towns at the far reaches of the region to collect a new harvest tax for the capital. Nobody knows what to make of it yet, but this town can’t afford much more.”

She sighed again. “But we can do our part. We can set off in the morning and find this beast, earn our keep, and bring a little peace to Cantford.”

“Cheers to that,” Colm said as he drained the last of his ale. His belly was full and a warm fuzziness buzzed in his head. He enjoyed the light and carefree feeling. Whatever worldly concerns plagued the town of Cantford, he was alive, well, and ready to help. Tomorrow.

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Leona watched Brash as he finished lashing the pack containing their rations to the side of his horse when she saw the innkeeper approaching.

“You’re really going to track the beast down, then?” he asked as he came to a stop before her.

“That’s what we do”, she replied.

“I know the bounty probably ain’t what you lot are used to, so I’ll also refund your lodging if you manage to kill the monster and give these folk back their livelihoods.” The innkeeper looked back through the open doors of the inn where the farmers and other locals sat, slumped dejectedly.

“Durnst explained to me that this town has thriving trade, due to your port, for part of the year. The reward your mayor is offering isn’t the reason the town is showing such signs of wear and tear, is it?”

The innkeepers eyes widened and he quickly shook his head. “No miss, well that is to say, not entirely. It’s true that the amount offered is all we’ve been able to bring together, but it’s because of the taxes.”

She heard Brash and the others pause their preparations on the street behind her to listen in. When it was obvious she wasn’t going to speak further, the bearded man continued.

“We’re overtaxed, we are. Each year the taxes are raised, every year since the last king died, gods rest him, and now we’ve got taxes on crops that weren’t never taxed before. I even hear two towns over the soldiers have come to cart ‘em away at harvest time, and it’s getting tough. If they come our way, we’ll be rationing this winter for certain.”

Leona thought she heard Brash growl softly as Durnst stepped forward to join the conversation by her side.

“Worry not, innkeep,” Durnst said. “The size of the bounty is irrelevant in this case. We will find the beast and bring it down. You just be sure to have that stew simmering away when we return.”

The older man smiled and clasped his hands before him in gratitude. “That I will, good sir! You lot take care. I’ve heard stories about these beasts that keep me up at night, I have.”

“We’ve a bit of skill when it comes to these things, don’t you fret. Thank you for the meal and rooms,” Leona said as she bid him goodbye. She turned to face the rest of her group.

“We all set, then?” she asked.

They nodded, and Durnst waved his hand forward. It was time to hunt.

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