The following morning the group gathered their belongings and continued their journey towards the inn. After cutting through some dense brush to proceed beyond the clearing, the path opened up to some game trails that they were able to follow easily. The forest began to open up and branch off to grasslands to the south and continuing forest to the north and west. The companions continued west towards their destination as the day quickly turned to night without a single confrontation. The End of the World Inn was actually part of a small settlement that was surrounded by a wooden stockade to protect the inhabitants from outside enemies. It would not prevent an onslaught by a determined army, but it would protect against the occasional marauding party, with areas above for archers to rain down death upon the intruders. There was a double door wooden gate that allowed for entry and two covered small wooden towers on each side of the gate for guards to be protected from the elements while still keeping watch below. Within the wooden walls, there was the famous inn, a few shops and about two dozen small homes. The total population of the small settlement was about 200 inhabitants, with about 20 villagers, trained as guards. Around five guards were patrolling at a time, with the rest stationed off-duty in the barracks that were placed to the right of the gate within. Mari and the remainder of her group reached the gate when the sun was just disappearing under the horizon. A large minotaur gazed down on them from above and yelled, “Who goes there? What is your business here?” Mari responded, “We are from the east, from Du’Ron, our village was attacked and we need shelter for the night!” The minotaur spoke an inaudible command to one of his companions and the large gate began to groan and creak while slowly sliding open. He waved the group in and Mari, with Maurus and group in tow, proceeded to enter the town. Maurus had never seen anyone else, but lionmen his entire life. Anything that did not look like him, was usually a foul creature destined to die by his father’s or his weapon. When he looked back at the minotaur patrolling the ramparts, he was amazed by its size. It was about 7 feet tall and about double the width of Maurus’ father. It could easily pick up Maurus over its head and snap him like a twig, he thought. The settlement was pretty ramshackle, there were no paved streets, just cleared dirt walkways between the structures and a main dirt causeway that led from the front gates, straight to the back wall. There were numerous side streets for the homes and shops and the inn was situated in the center of the town. All of the buildings were worn, paint flaking off of signs, some homes with holes in their roofs, etc. The town did not seem to be doing too well financially, but that was a given considering it was the furthest outpost from all of the other towns on the continent and getting supplies was only advisable during the warm months. As they walked past the numerous closed shops and dimly lit homes, the group felt a sense that their stay was not going to be a welcome one. They found the inn through one of the center side streets through the sound of voices traveling through the otherwise silent night and the smell of venison lingering in the air. The End of the World Inn was in fairly good shape on the outside, considering the condition of the rest of the town. The sign above the entrance consisted of a black dragon clutching a sphere that represented Myrosia, with the name of the inn in script below the image. The group entered the dimly lit inn and Mari sent one of the adult females with the children to secure a table in a far corner, away from the bustle. As they walked in though, all eyes were on them. No one had seen a lionman in decades. Most had thought they were either all dead or a myth. The inn’s patrons consisted of various races, from surface dwarves, to the numerous beast races, to the rare human that had settled in the area. The innkeeper was an old minotaur with both horns broken off close to the base and the color yellowed from age. He had some scraggly white hair on his chin and his eyes were brown, but with a grey tinge. “You have traveled far from home. I have not seen your kind since my younger days when I wandered the land. Your people have rarely traveled west, and to see a group of just women and children is an ill omen,” said the grizzled old barkeep. “My travel intentions are my own. I seek only food and shelter for the night and we will be gone in the morn,” replied Mari. She ordered some stew and ale and returned to the table with the rest of her companions. “What will we do, now that our home is destroyed?” asked one of the adults. “We cannot mount a counterattack as there is no one left to fight, but ourselves. No one will believe our outlandish stories of what we saw until they experience it themselves. We have no choice, but to continue westward and begin new lives in one of the nearby towns.” Replied Mari. Maurus pondered what a new life would be for a second and it brought him profound sadness. A life without his father, living in a town alien to him. What would he do? Would he ever avenge his father’s death and the rest of the villagers, or would they live on as cowards in fear until the monsters came for them out here. Who could stop these creatures from devastating the whole known world? A small young adult female minotaur named Saura brought the food and ale to the table. She was a scraggly little thing, four and a half feet tall, dark grey fur, and beautiful purple eyes. Her horns barely sprouted from her forehead, small ivory spikes, adorned with red colored stones at the base. Maurus observed the young girl as she approached the table, she was of similar age and her stature made her look like she belonged out in the wild on adventure and not cramped up in an inn serving food to strangers. “Your rooms are ready upstairs. Up the stairs, turn right, the last two rooms at the end of the hallway on either side are yours,” said Saura. As she turned to leave, Saura looked at Maurus and said, “I have never seen anyone like you before, maybe we can talk later. I would love to hear stories about the frontier.” Maurus nodded and smiled back at Saura. He knew he would have to sneak out of the room at night if he planned on talking to Saura, as his mother strictly forbade speaking to any strangers on this journey.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  Death Knell Chronicles is a dark fantasy tale of survival, loss, and vengeance — told through the eyes of a young beastfolk warrior fighting to reclaim what was taken from him.