Remember that one time a long time ago when I wrote the start of what I wanted to make a little mini-series of? The guy with the friend and he was sick, and his friend, well, ate a guy? Yeah that one. Forget all about it! I mapped out a story pretty far, but I wanted to write a different story instead and since it’s about zombies too, well that’s too much zombie. It doesn’t work in stories like in real life; you can’t swarm a reader with zombie stories to eat their brains.
So here’s a different story don’t even worry about it. I
stole found a cool idea for a Pathfinder (TTRPG) game and I went for it! Now I’m going to write about it in a hopefully entertaining manner, though even I’m not 100% sure how the story will go.
Fenton Shoemaester nearly jumped out of his skin as something plowed into the other side of his front door. He hastily stowed the sketchbook full of ankles he’d been rifling through and went to the door.
Dark rimmed eyes gazed through him, the heavy man on the porch breathing heavily a moment. “Kind sir, I need to buy a pair o’ shoes to wear. Do you have any in hand?” Heaving for air, the ragged stranger wheezed into the front sitting room and sat against the wall.
“Oi lad, sure I can cobble something up for you quick enough, how’s about a week from today?”
Those dark eyes widened in alarm. “Can ye do it any faster? My old pop’s funeral is to be today I’m afraid. Passed sometime overnight-” Stopped briefly by a fit of coughing, he spit blood onto the floor and continued. “He passed sometime overnight I’m ‘fraid, the whole family is in a state just like me. We have to do it while we still have the strength. We can’t just leave him in bed for weeks like old ma!”
Lip curled as he eyed the mess, Fenton thought quickly. “Aye, I suppose you’re about what, a seven? A nine? I bet I’ve something I can use to get rid of you with. That you can use I mean.” The old man perused his storeroom for several long minutes during which he desperately hoped the man survived. Finally, he found the pair. “Here we are good man, I believe these will suit you just fine. I take 2 silver for the pair or if ya only got one leg, you get half off! Ah ha! Ahahaha!”
Blearily the other groped his pockets and fished up two silver coins, not even a courtesy laugh the whole while. Another fit of coughing later and he shut the door with an old pair of shoes in hand. Fenton snatched up an old rag ready to be thrown away from a dusty corner and tossed it at the mess on the floor. “There better be plenty of young ladies needing shoes this season, I swear. This shop will be the death of me!” Growling and grumbling to himself, the old man hurled the filth into the early morning streets to be washed away by the river of people that would break through in a few hours.
Noticing the clothier next door to him was sitting on her porch, Fenton invited himself over and took a quick peek down. Ah, that leather-and-lace affair he’d crafted up for her some years ago. Perfection! “Hello Claudia, little early isn’t it?”
“Ah, Mr. Shoemaester it is good to see you. I sleep warmly in my down blankets these cold nights, but a man come and does not read my ‘go away’ sign. He ask me to make a suit for a pittance by this afternoon! Pshaw I tell him, I have nothing for you here, begone! I think he carries a dark sickness in him and I do not want him infecting the spirits of the lace.”
“Oh yeah that would be a real shame. Lace is hard to make! He came over to buy shoes a few minutes ago too and I felt the same way. I didn’t want him in there taintin’ up the soles ya know.”
Claudia slowly leveled her gaze at Fenton while he guffawed himself right off the porch. “Mr. Shoemaester, it is good that you have such a source of laughter. It is a pity you cannot share this with the rest of us.”
The geezer sauntered back over to his shoe shop wiping a tear from his eye, waving goodbye to his old friend until next time.
“The LORD hath delivered unto ME… a message, my people! A message for YOU! He doth guide me the righteous path of…RIGHTEOUSNESS I say, to protect all of you! All of you powerful common folk who come into his house. I recognize each of you, let me tell you. I know everyone, and we love each of you dearly. Myself that is, and THE LORD above!”
Tess wiped the droplets of sweat from her brow as she finally finished sweeping the nave. How oddly silent it was today. She paused a moment to listen to the sermon before stepping to the front porch to beat out the broom. She could never fathom how dirty the inside of the church could be after being cleaned once a week. Surely someone must be tracking dust in purposefully?
“Miss, can you help my dear mum? She is unwell!”
She was jerked from her daydream by an older woman standing over an elderly woman laying against the steps to the church. “I worry her time has come, but we weren’t able to reach inside the church in time. Might you help me get her inside?”
Tess took a step down the stairs but halted. She’d been caught up in her reverie a few minutes before and had missed the bodies lying in the streets. Glassy eyed and staring to the heavens, young and old alike sat against the close-knit buildings or just lie uncaring in the streets as far as the eye could see. “Dear woman, I’ll gladly help. I’ll lift her arms and chest, be sure her feet don’t drag or catch on the doorframe.”
Grunting and heaving ensued. The old woman was surprisingly heavy and the two women had trouble just lifting her to the top of the stairs. After a moment, a new voice joined the fray.
“‘Allo madams, might I lend a hand here?”
A strong youth fitted in hard leather and bearing an unlit torch strode in from a side street. He hefted the semi-conscious old woman onto his shoulders easily, setting her inside on a pew near the door.
“Thank you so much for your assistance kind sir.” Tess curtsied and retrieved the broom leaning against the outside of the door.
“My pleasure miss. I’m making the rounds this morning anyway. His Lordship has called for all citizens to make their way to the Eastern church of Vitsuata with all haste. As you’ve noticed, there’s a plague spreading through the city, and the Vitsuata alchemists have devised a cure I’m told. That’s what his Lordship told us all anyway. We’re to gather near the east church to be given the cure. Please inform the Father while I continue my rounds.”
“Of course officer, I’ll let them know right away. Thank you!” Tess escorted the young guard back outside and saw him off, then returned to the marble pulpit at the center inside.
“Dear father, I don’t wish to interrupt you today but I thought you ought to know, -” She delivered the guards’ words to the priest atop the stage and told him her own observations outside earlier.
“So a plague is it? That must be what’s wrong with the crowds today Tess. I was sure of it, not a single cheer for the LORD has been risen today. That hussie of a god Vitsua must be responsible of course, why else would they offer a cure? Bah!” Father Maximus wrung the sweat from his long beard and then used it to wipe his face. “I should have known those good for nothing leeches would cause problems one day, I must obtain an augurie before we leave the safety of our home. Tess, protect our flock!”
With that, the sturdy old man whisked himself to the basement.