Paralyzed in Action
As told by Rex
No rest for the wicked they used to tell us at the orphanage. Are we the wicked? I'd started to believe that we could be heroes of this town. A fever and bone chilling cold has spread throughout the rooms of this place we call home. We are all gathered in by the fireplace, I'm wrapped in the elk skin I took off the drunken hunter Ahyrs killed to protect our neighbors. He is a strange one, Ahyrs, but I like him, I think. He joined us just a few days ago in this misery but seems not to notice, he has his faith to guide him - even here in the cold.
The silence is eerie and the stars quiet. Normally I feel comforted by the stars, but not this night. Ahyrs, Nines and I seem to have been haunted by similar dreams - chasing us out of the little warmth we had. There is a calling from below, but this house should not have cellar yet here we are. Reality seems to bend different. The floor is dirty and paper is everywhere. Sounds are coming from yet further below. What are we heading into, secret passages, hidden barriers? Ahyrs and Nines are pushing forward with speed and determination, I feel uneasy and almost paralyzed in action.
He is dead, this so-called Bandit Brass. I know it but feel like he is still observing us. When we lifted the key and horn he smiled, I could've sworn it. The weight of these things pull the energy out of you. I can feel the weight of my body, every step slows me further. Even Ahyrs looks drained of energy. Only Nines, incredible fast Nines, is unhindered by the book he took. Some sort of diary that talks tells of a hunt. The way it is described it does not seem to lead to anything but misery and death. I hope we can avoid this hunt… but I doubt it.