Blood's Wake

[Fez_The_Kid]

Solo.

Singed trees quivered under a raw, soughing wind, a wide strip of decaying forest that crackled and slanted in protest. Trodden roads cut through the landscape, traveling ancient woodlands and prairies. Hooves of mounted warhorses had furrowed the ground, leaving their prints' asymmetrical pattern on the path. Atop these beasts armor-clad soldiers had cocked their lances, thundering toward their foe in the name of the Ethereal Sway; a second pattern faced the first in opposition, one belonging to an army that rode under the standard of King Iorlan Rathaxea. Where the armies met was a storm of footprints, the sides of which Anubis of Skavia loathed evenly.

A trace of old blood hung faint in the air, but a foul undercurrent spoke of sorcery. The forest soil too had been disturbed, churned up by the same warring sides. Shafts of quarrels had sprouted out from trees, the metal heads firmly anchored in the scorched bark. Dying columns of smoke dotted the field of battle, tainting the brightening sky overhead. The fighting, he concluded, had stopped with the Church's victory.

He had always dissented from the sides' views, abhorred them both for it. They would have to soon dissolve, he'd decided, for the good of this nation. Pained by the scene he relived in his mind, the Salvarian realized he would never participate, for this was one war he had nothing to do with. No, he had traveled here for another cause.

Anubis gathered the reins, turned with his mount and guided it a dozen paces up a rising slope, then slowed to pause atop its crest. The eastern horizon brightened gradually, the sun still lurking behind a vast portion of land that had remained doubly untouched. Silently surveying the grassy plains, Anubis turned at a sound of an approaching rider.

The newcomer reined in, his peachy face weathered with exhaustion. Pointy ears stretched beyond the scalp, the blades of his jet-black hair swinging in the wind. An insignia of the elven Bladesingers graced his rusty breastplate, broken and tattered.

"Sure took your sweet time," Anubis said, his bruised heart evident in his voice. "Oh, don't give me that look. I'm fine. Been thinking... that's all."

The elf's brows fractionally rose. "About the war?" he asked.

Anubis gave a nod, his eye wandering till it settled on his mount, the beast's mane silently ruffled by the wind.

"I understand," the renegade whispered, moved his horse a few paces past, setting his face in the growing sunlight. His glittering black hair was like a piece torn from night itself, two rosy eyes adorning the firm ridge of his brows. The pinna of his ears ever pointed skyward, his skin violet and pale. "I know how it is like as well."

"I appreciate your sympathy," Anubis sighed and continued, "but this is a civil war, it's different. Think of it as two brothers battling over the last morsel of meat. Your war is only two neighbors fighting over… power, land, and resources.”

"Poor distinction, but bravo for the effort," he grinned. "However, they're still my brethren. It is the hard, bruised truth..." The elf paused, then continued, "Regardless, I had a considerable part in dealing the death of their scores. A fact which haunts me to this day." The elf's face suddenly turned sober. "We cannot separate ourselves because of a difference in ideologies and skin, Anubis. I had to watch a handful of them bleed out from my own-inflicted wounds.”

"Sorry," Anubis murmured.

"It’s all right, friend," the elf said. Whatever thought that seemed to have arisen in his mind was fleeting, as he simply shrugged. "What's happened happened." The elf's gaze returned to the road, "We can never change the past, sadly."

A faint smile crept onto Anubis' lips as gathered the reins again and clicked his tongue. He then broke his horse into a walking pace along the road. "Come on, we should be close."

"Lead the way," the renegade croaked. Formerly called Hearvarr, the elf now went by the name of Merka Ralem. An ex-soldier of the Raiaeran Bladesinger forces who easily stood two heads above Anubis. He was barely into his first century--a youth among his kin, but a wise one nonetheless. The bond the two now shared had formed over the years, now a companionship unbreakable by any force they had confronted yet.

***

Anubis' gaze was fixed on the eastern horizon as the forenoon sunlight bled through ranks of paperthin clouds. The trading road they now traveled had went on for longer than anticipated, and often they met with merchant carriages drawn by lowing, toilworn quadrupeds.

A town's gateway loomed in the distance, flanked by a revolving palisade. The tattered rooftops of buildings crowded the space within. The treeline, now turned into a stretch of plains extending further inland, had traveled with them until a few leagues remained between them and the settlement. To the left it ran only for a half dozen leagues, suddenly twisting into the swampy bogs of northern Raiaera. There the land was sheathed in dense thickets, in which prowled both the mundane and the supernatural.

So claimed Merka, who explained this survey through his sharp memory; perhaps an ability that was to him both a blessing and a curse.

The Bladesingers were once the renegade's life. To them he had sworn an oath, which he later broke and now lived by, as the vow's shattered remnants harrowed him every so often. Who drove that stab? Anubis pondered, his conscious, maybe. Or his heart. Whichever, he's not forgetting the day he broke his solemn promise, looks like.

They had nurtured Merka, raised him to the elf he was now. They'd taught him how to kill. Two decades he spent slaying Raiaera' foes in the name of its glory. And it all turned out to be for naught. No-one saw the truth as he did. Only he saw it unveil. A mutineer that didseek Raiaera’s glory, but in ways largely different to the ones that had been--and still were--executed.

Should they find him, they would kill him without hesitation. They would feel no remorse. He had always been aware of the consequences. No regrets plagued him, but if the thought ever arose, it was crushed, destroyed, its vile throat slit. He knew that the moment he rode out of the encampment, he would have gone rogue. Even as he hesitated, he took the decision and escaped the confines of an empty oath.

Merka suddenly turned in his saddle, fixed his eyes on the Salvarian. "Is this it?"

"Yeah. Lakewick. Modest village, but it’ll do."

The elf murmured something, then returned to facing the settlement. Silence ensued, then a while later, "I’ve a feeling luck shall be on our side today."

"Don't push it," Anubis said. "Smaller settlements aren't exactly the friendliest to outsiders. Even of their kind." A light tap against his mount's sides sent the beast into a trotting pace, striding down the road leading to the gateway a few hundred paces ahead. Merka heaved a sigh and followed in silence.

[Fez_The_Kid]

Lows of cattle filled the air, the percussion of weary hooves rumbling from the ground up. A bridge ranged over the moat, acting as a passage into Lakewick. The roan animals had gathered in an interlock of flesh and bone, mindlessly grazing on the open meadow as they cluttered a patch of green. The beasts were dangerously tottering on the moat's edge, but had been held in check by a watchful guard dog. Anubis' horse grew with unease as the canine fixed its cold gaze on them. Muscles twitching under its skin, the beast hesitated.

“Easy…” he murmured to his horse, then glanced back at the dog. Gone. Better hope these cattle have their owner close. Anubis spared Merka a glance, who rode silently. The two then nudged their mounts up the bridge, the worn wooden planks moaning under the added weight.

Pounds of hammer against heated steel announced the presence of a smith, the sound traveling from behind the building closest to the gate. Sizzles hissed in the same establishment that was revealed to be a traveler's inn, its only window giving way to rising tendrils of steam. Guards were nowhere to be seen. Other than the one farthest, with the lone edifice towering above the settlement, the remainder of buildings seemed to be nothing but peasant homes.

Heads turned and faced the two warriors as they entered the establishment, carefully followed them as they made for an empty table. "Ugly-arse elves…" someone at an occupied table murmured as Merka passed. Who paused, turned slowly and settled his piercing gaze on the man. He held his gaze a moment longer, then grunted, turned and followed in Anubis' wake.

An aging barmaid approached the two as they sat. “Beg your pardon for those thugs,” she said, eyeing Merka.

“No need,” the elf said, shrugging his massive shoulders. “I'm used to it.”

“Folk’re jumpy ‘round here. A battle transpired a week ago, and now the baroness' son has gone missing.”

Anubis cocked his head.

“Missing, you say..?” Merka questioned, glanced at the Salvarian knowingly. Anubis shrugged. “We've a few questions to ask about this baroness,” Merka paused, "but first, we would like to drink something, please." The barmaid nodded, strolled over to the counter.

***

The sun's waning light shone over Merka's inhuman face. They had sat at the table for hours on end, gorging themselves as they bled themselves dry. Merka idly reached for an apple, inspected it. His violet eye wandered, stopped at something, or someone, behind Anubis. As the Salvarian presumed, it was the man from when they entered hours before. “We don’t need any trouble, Merka.”

“I know not what you're talking about,” the elf said, took a slobbering bite. "All right, all right, my energy would be lost on him anyway."

Anubis rolled his eyes. We’ll have the whole town after us, friend, if you venture to lay a finger on that man. “We should ask her about this missing son.”

Merka's gaze returned to the half-eaten apple. “Aye.”

[Fez_The_Kid]

The baroness' study was a plain expanse of hardwood, a strong fragrance of lavender riding the air. Tapers were arrayed within metal rims which hung from the ceiling, the faint light giving way to an ambiance that appeased Anubis' weary mind. Darkness had commanded the outdoors, broken only by the dimly lit streets and homes.

Merka sat in the chair opposite the old woman, one elbow on the top of her study as silence commanded the chamber. Anubis crossed his arms as he leaned on a pole, reflecting on the baroness' restless gaze as it settled on an empty space. A moment later the elf gave him a surreptitious glance, where Anubis simply shrugged. Merka then turned his attention back to the silent crone, leaning forward. He hesitated, then spoke. "The tavern barmaid led us here. We were looking for work, and were wondering if you could--"

"Is this about my son?" the woman demanded, avoiding the elf's gaze. "And I'd like you to introduce yourselves first, if you please," she said coldly.

Merka's brows furrowed, at which he sighed under his breath. "I am Merka Ralem." He gestured toward the Salvarian. "My friend is Azaranth Ubissad, but you may call him Anubis. And yes indeed, it is about your son."

"Pleased to meet you. I am Agnes Seabreath, Baroness of Lakewick." There was a pause, then a heartbeat later she leveled them a merry smile. "Please then, continue."

Anubis felt the urge to sneer, but barely managed to avoid falling to his desire. "The pleasure is ours. After we were told about Gareth, we were curious to know if you're willing to hire some foreigners."

Agnes said nothing.

"Yes," Merka simply added.

She sighed, a restless pucker playing on her lips. "Interesting offer, and I may accept it on one condition; tell me why I should hire you and not rely on my own men."

"We're monster hunters," Anubis said, expressionless as the baroness' gaze turned to hold him. "We track monsters down. Shouldn't make much difference to track someone down--of course, the distinction is not--"

"It is fine," was her blunt answer. Agnes sighed again. "All right then, hire you I will. Your reward will be discussed when you return," she eyed them both, then added meticulously, "with my son." They only gave a firm nod. "It is settled, then," the baroness said, shifting in her seat. "I am assuming you have questions?"

"Yes," they said in unison. Anubis then added, "We do."

[Fez_The_Kid]

“Three months ago was when I saw him last," Agnes said, facing the window directly behind her study, hands behind her back as she watched the moonlit firmament. "I recall we argued during the last few days. Over what, I don't quite remember. But I believe it was about his drinking with his comrades for the night.”

Anubis exchanged a glance with Merka, then questioned, “You refuse?"

The woman hesitated, then slowly nodded. “When he knew I wouldn't accept, he simply retired into his room. I realized he was quite upset. When I checked on him that night, the window was left ajar. And his room, it was as if a storm had passed through. We couldn't find him anywhere."

"Try asking the guards?"

"Who do you take me for? I trust my men…" There was a pause, then Agnes heaved a sigh. "Yes... I did ask the guards, but nothing, of course.” The woman turned and faced them, her face twisted with fright. "I fear for him."

"We'll find him," Merka said reassuringly. "But how do you know he is in Alerar?"

"He told me he would meet his comrades there. I sent my men after him. Waited and waited, I have. None returned. I couldn't afford to lose more men, so I prayed he would show up on his own. And that's that,” she slurred.

"What do you mean by 'none returned?'" Anubis questioned, raising a brow. The Salvarian then saw her eyes swimming with tears. She turned to the window again, a hand over her mouth. "All right, but who killed them? And what for?"

"That's enough, Anubis," Merka interrupted, his voice possessing a ring of dominance. Which then softened. "Don't you worry Agnes, we'll bring him with us." The elf rose, his steel cuirass clanging heavily as he rose to his feet. "We ought to get to work. Give us two weeks--we should have returned with your son by then."

"Make haste," Agnes whispered. "I beg you."

***

“Have you seen Stonny?” a muffled voice questioned, sounded through the thin walls of one of the villager homes. "She’s gone missing since daybreak-- No, I won't ask Brook. What do you mean 'Just ask?' That bastard may as well have kidnapped--"

Anubis was no longer within earshot, pausing as the words registered in his mind. Might have been that guard-dog. I should probably help 'em. Shit, but I need to focus on the contract. Maybe Merka--

"Got something on your mind?" the elf asked, his face packed with curiosity.

Anubis blinked. Ah, but you already have a lot on your mind as it is. You don't need more trouble. Then he simply shook his head. "No."

The rhythmical call of crickets chimed throughout the town, a series of chirps that tolled across the roads. A full moon hung in a cloudless sky as stars winked overhead. Merka held Anubis in his gaze a while longer. "Come. Let's rest if we plan on finding this Gareth, we'll need it."

Anubis tsked. "I don’t know… she seems--"

"What?"

"To be hiding something," the Salvarian completed, locked gazes with Merka. I'm certain, in fact. She is lying. She doesn’t want us to know something, and what’s at stake, I fear, is greater than what you or I could imagine. "We’ll talk about it tomorrow, you head on to camp."

"Where are you going?" Merka raised a brow, eyeing his friend carefully.

"Want to check on something," Anubis said distractedly, attention trained on a nearby house.

"Better not tarry," he murmured, turned and walked off in the town stall's direction. They planned to stay no more than a night. But things change, he thought, approaching the door. Now, I wonder how we'll cross into Alerar with Merka… Damn, I should him ask him that. Unless he plans to introduces some more of his 'brethren' to the ground. Regardless, time I searched for that dog.

[Fez_The_Kid]

A narrow slit of the night sky appeared between two low summits of the Kachuck mountains, where the valley below wound on ahead in a tortuous path that Merka claimed to be well acquainted with. Dusk's heavy cloak had sheathed the land in darkness, but somehow they managed with the faint lighting of the lanterns hanging from their saddles. The horses had surprisingly maneuvered in the stone-filled path, but ahead was where the beasts would need their riders' guidance. Alongside him the ex-Bladesinger, Anubis noted, "Gotten cold."

"Yes," Merka said, in a tone that suggested hindsight. "Looks like we've already crossed the border." The elf's armor gleamed in the faltering light of his lantern, the breastplate caked in a coating of rust. “If we're lucky enough, we shouldn't run into any trouble.”

“Namely?” Anubis asked.

“Border-patrols, Anubis,” he scoffed, eyeing the Salvarian. Anubis shrugged, facing the road again, still feeling the weight of Merka's gaze. A moment later it shifted, only to hold something else on the man. "So, is that related in anyway to your dawdling of yesterday?"

Anubis grunted. “Yeah...” he sighed, eyeing the bandaged wound on his hand. Damned dog. All I wanted was the owner to get it back… Not... Anubis clenched his jaw, tried relieving the tension in his muscles as the elf's eye slipped away, but to no avail.

"It didn't end well, did it..?"

Anubis felt a sting in his wound. "No."

Silence followed for the next hour, broken only by the occasional horse grunt. Merka spoke a while later. “By the way, we should run into a settlement on our way,” he said. “A mine-city we'll find a bit deeper into the range, also called Kachuck. We should find an inn or a tavern there.” He paused, then added, “We'll meet Agnes' agent there.”

Anubis nodded, fumbling through his cloak to produce a leather-wrapped waterskin. "How are we supposed to find said agent?" he questioned, bringing it to his lips. A moment later Anubis paused, noticing Merka tense in his saddle.

His eyes were dead-locked on something ahead. "Well," the elf murmured, pulling at the reins. “Looks like we’ve gotten ourselves some company for the night.”

Anubis gazed in front of him, eyes narrowing. “You forget your coordinates?”

"No," he whispered sourly. "That's a stronghold, whence the patrols come and go." The elf's face furrowed in a worrisome frown, gaze unwavering on the hulking fort ahead. The stone structure blocked their path, its huge frame flanked by the rocky formation that ran along the valley. Torches guttered at the entrance.

A sudden gust of wind nipped on his bones, swayed his lantern, which he then frantically proceeded to extinguish. Merka followed suit. "Something tells me these Alerians won’t be so delighted to see us," Anubis muttered, "will they?"

The elf snorted. "You? Perhaps not. Me? Naturally," he said bluntly. "Even if I were outlawed by the Bladesingers, I am still ally to no-one."

"Right," he paused, then, "and how powerful are they?"

Merka was silent for a few moments. "More than I'd like to admit."

Anubis whispered, “So, how about we turn back before we're seen--" he wheeled his horse, urging the beast to move forward--"right about now?”

“Yes, agreed." The elf grunted, guiding his mount around. "Knowing you, no plan is ever going to work--but we shall set up camp and see what we can come up with. Somehow we still pull through..." he murmured, a statement that seemed to have been directed mostly to himself.

Anubis' scowl deepened in thought. "If it ever came to it--"

"If, and when, it ever came to it. Kill when necessary, Anubis; that's a motto I have always lived by."

They rode with their mounts and skulked back and out of the stronghold's view. You know, that makes it that much easier for me. ​The Salvarian grinned, loosening his crossbow strap.

[Fez_The_Kid]

Heavy rain descended in unending droves, sheathing the boggy mountain trail in a stream of rainwater. Two, motionless bodies lay next to Merka and Anubis. Each wore a bloodied uniform, a patrol from the fort that had found itself in the fatal grasp of the skulking monster hunters. The kill had been quick, each bore a stab wound in their lower back. Both were dark elves. A torch, its flame recently extinguished, sank next to them into the rain-smothered ground. Merka wiped his dagger blade clean. "Good kill."

"You too," Anubis paused, hesitated, then, “We could have spared the other one, though.”

“Too risky. We did what had to be done,” Merka said. "Here, this one should fit, if my eye is correct." Then he proceeded to undress one of the bodies. The elf grunted as he went on to wear each article of the guard's padded uniform, his efforts hardened by the ceaseless rain. “I need to cover up my face with something. I suppose it's obvious enough to tell the difference.”

Anubis sneered. “Yeah, you think?"

The elf seemed to realize the sarcasm that influenced his friend words, slightly grinned. "Wear a hood, then," the Salvarian suggested, then gestured toward the elf's ridiculously large sword-- "and exactly what do you plan on doing with that?”

Merka grunted, furrowing his brows. “What do you think, hide it in my undergarments?”

“You could try that,” Anubis grinned, received the black broadsword in wonder of its awesome grandeur. The hilt was golden in color, its luster lost by age. The blade was pure dehlar, painted a degree black as lacquer. Dark power bled from its edges, trailing in the air like ink spilled in water. Anubis savored it in its rare proximity before slipping it into a second sheath strapped over his shoulder. “How does it look on me? Not too beg, eh?"

“Don’t get too used to it,” Merka growled. “It’ll be a few days, and nothing more."

"Of course," Anubis said. “I’ll carry on to Kachuck. Try not to get too friendly with the Alerians." He paused, a smirk plastered over his face. "I get nervous without your company."

“Hilarious,” the elf sneered. Silence followed, as lightning streaked through the cloudy firmament, followed by booms of thunder. Merka cocked his head. "Do take care of my sword."

The Salvarian blinked. “Of course I will. Who do you take me for?” he questioned, his irony the size of the sword. Anubis smiled as he looked his friend in the eye. “Don't get killed, Merka," he said, his tone suddenly serious.

The ex-Blandesinger nodded, his jaw muscles clenching in the lantern light. “You too." Then he tsked, pulled uncomfortably at his collar. "Spirits below, I'm going to be swimming in this thing."

"You already are, friend."

"Wait for me in the biggest inn there, Anubis." He paused, then a moment later, "Maybe your all-knowing omniscience, and excuse the redundancy here, will have calmed down by the time I'm arrived."

“Of course," Anubis nodded sagely. "I shall be waiting."

***

Lying squat in the mountain pass like a vessel in its harbor, Kachuck came to life before the Salvarian. From the eastern-horizon, the sun’s slow climb to its zenith marked the beginning of the city's day; the ring of metal against stone filled the air, deep underlying explosions stirring the pebbles at his feet. Precious ores melted and set up for sale meant coin clinking in merchants' pockets. Fatal accidents, as it seemed, were not uncommon in the process of mining. Do or die, I suppose, Anubis thought, sitting on a rocky outcropping as the dwarves' stocky figures cluttered the streets.

Few exchanged glances with the newly arrived hunter as they carried on to their tasks. Visitors to the mine city were often. But the difference lay in Merka's sword, which was, he considered, nothing short of attention-seeking. It was only a matter of time before guards would make an entrance at the spot, or so he predicted. Really hope that Merka didn't go and blow his cover away. But… now that I think about it, it seems that I sent my friend to his own grave. A hood, Anubis? Really? It’s a damn surprise I am still alive and kicking, the Salvarian frowned, straightening as he crossed the road over to an open tavern.

“Give me a drink of something strong.”

[Fez_The_Kid]

Hooves beat against the ground, kicking up dirt and puffs of dust in their wake. The beast grunted in its burdened rush, confused as its new owner had startled it into motion. He often drove his heels into its flanks, urging it to gather its pace as two other riders chased. They needed to cover no more than a dozen paces to reach them, their swords swinging wildly in the blazing backdrop of the dark-elven stronghold.

A fire had been set to one of the buildings, and had reached out to all buildings in the vicinity, as the flames consumed everything in its path.

The fleeing ex-Bladesinger had been uneasy about the inquisitive guards. It seemed that these guardsmen were poor at recognizing their comrades; also, poor at reflex action, for Merka still pondered how he had made it out in one piece. Many had failed to see the change in who exactly was behind the attire. Of course, only the general seemed to pick up on what had been underway. His was a single eye trained by time and experience.

Yet it was not enough; turmoil ran unchecked in the town like an explosion. Men rushed to and fro, women screaming in dismay, children wailing in confusion. It gnawed on a part of his heart, but he simply had to endure. He needed to secure his life, and in turn, secure his passage to his waiting comrade. He wished he could stop it, for more would soon die by his hand, and the guilt may soon prove too overwhelming; regardless, it was one, albeit minor, step to his goal. And it had his heart thrumming like the drums of war.

Soon, peace will rule this divided land.

Death whispered in his ear as a quarrel whizzed past his head. A heartbeat later a low branch shattered a few paces onward. The elf cursed and reined in, guiding his beast to a stop. He turned in his saddle to meet the incoming assault.

Another string loosened.

Merka ducked and felt the the quarrel pierce his horse's neck. The beast half-reared, tumbled to its side and trapped his foot underneath. Time fleeing his grasp, he jerked himself sideways and faced the nearing Alerians. Who were already on top of him.

A pair of blades came down targeting his chest. The elf met the onslaught with an extended, glowing hand. Arms staggered against a small red barrier cloaking his fist. The elf slipped two knives out of his pouch, dug one into the back of a nearby knee and flung the second into a throat.

One fell immediately. The other staggered, then followed his comrade in a wet gurgle.

The first managed to pull himself upright, pulled the throwing knife out of his knee in a sick tear. He screamed something in Elven and pounced the ex-Bladesinger, again bringing the blade to the renegade's chest.

The elf jumped with his torso and barely caught the hilt in time, its red tip pricking his chest-bone. They struggled in a stalemate, but Merka soon overpowere; the dark elf spasmed in his descent, the knife's handle jutting from one side of his neck.

The ex-Bladesinger sank back, gasped for air, his leg still beneath his dead horse. Unconsciousness descended on him like a black veil.

[Fez_The_Kid]

The repercussions of his foolishness were many. Often the elf found himself questioning their venture to find some negligible baroness' son, but when all was said and done, it was their job. Their pay. Seabreath had promised remuneration-- And since Anubis accepted it too, I guess we've no choice but to cross the finish line. Spirits know if he's been having the same dilemma. The elf sighed. Quite the predicament we've gotten ourselves into.

Gravel crunched under his horse's hooves. We’re close, he thought as he rode silently in the empty stone valley, his expression sullen. Gray clouds stretched overhead, the ongoing pattern broken only by the flanking mountain summits that had been thrust into the overcast sky. The Alerian gelding he know rode used to belong to one of his attackers', and unsurprisingly, it proved much sturdier than his late mount from Tular. Which had sadly bled out.

Anubis was another recurring thought: With his temperament, and the dwarves' firm mistrust, the young man had likely gotten himself into trouble, Merka conjectured. Not all dwarves, however, were dubious, and he could only pray Anubis ran into those kind first and foremost. The road seemed to wound on ahead, gradually open up.

The irregular outcroppings he'd been seeing for as long as his journey gave way to shapes limited only by his imagination, as billowing columns of smoke rose behind what seemed to be the formation's end. They were close. "Tell you what, horse," he said to the beast he rode, expecting an answer by some means. The horse grunted nothing. "Get me to that city and I'll free you somehow, I promise you that."

The valley’s path gradually widened and broke ahead into what seemed like a crater. Stout, rocky, and massive: it was the surrounding ridge of the mine city of Kachuck. Merka could make out the distinct shapes of civilization; squat stone huts hunched next to one another; traders' oxen lowing and slogging through stone-riddled paths, tottering perilously close to the massive hole the mine centered. He could mostly make out dwarves, yet men--elves, even--were present. Some, alas, were unidentifiable, their faces hidden in the shadow of their hoods.

The crater was designed like a revolving set of steps all leading to the crater in the center, each step a long road riddled with stone establishments and busy pedestrians. A corporeal example of dwarven architecture.

"We’re here," Merka sighed. "At last."

He reined in. Quarried veins grated in the distance. “Well, I'd guess that Anubis went straight for a snifter. The bastard," Merka half grinned, half frowned. "Let’s find you a new owner before I get to Anubis, eh?” he whispered, patting the beast on its nape. "Let’s go." Merka dismounted, guiding the mount through the congested streets.

They walked many a road, until they made their way to a central market. Merchant stands centered an empty space. The elf, reins in hands, approached one; a fruit stand. The elf fumbled through his pockets and pulled out a small coin pouch, emptying its contents onto his hand. He gave them to the dwarf merchant, plucked an apple and presented it to the mare.

"Magnificent animals," the dwarf said.

"Yes," Merka said, smiled faintly. A moment later he tsked, and faced the dwarf. "Listen, friend, I’m looking for someone. Medium height, brown hair, two swords on the back. Seen him?" The apple disappeared into the horse's snout in a soft crunch.

The dwarf furrowed his brows in thought. "Nay, don’t think I did. You oughta look for ‘im in our main inn, The Vulgar Toad."

"Interesting as names go," he said. "Where shall I find it?"

"Right behind you," the dwarf pointed over to a squat, two-storey building, its back facing the crater. Merka made to "Before you go - might I ask what this is about?"

Merka raised a brow. "He’s a friend,” he paused, then, "a close friend. Why do you ask?"

The dwarf nodded. “Just out of curiosity, really. In fact, if memory serves me correct, he calls himself… Anuibos?”

"Anubis," the elf corrected. "So you did see him. Seems he went far as to reveal his name. Did he say where he was going, perchance?”

"He didn't," the dwarf folded his arms. “Lad was drunk as a lord. Kept raving somethin’ about an elf and whatnot. I'm assumin' that’s you."

"Don't think he's acquainted with any other elf, so I'd assume the same." Merka half-turned, eyeing the noisy building. "I suppose it’s best I ask at that inn. Thanks for your help."


After hitching his new mount to a nearby post, the ex-Bladesinger made his way to the tavern, his armor clanking in motion. The front door swung inward as he pushed it open. A sudden gust of heat breathed against his face. He paused just past the entrance, scouting the room for an empty seat. In a secluded corner by the hearth, a chestnut-haired figure sat, hands sprawled over a greasy tabletop.

Merka approached. "There you are," he murmured. Whippersnapper’s sound asleep. A nearby hearth fire rose in a guttering flame, scattering its bronze light across the room that reeked of sweat. Although the inn itself was modest, an increased share of travelers was not a concept lost on the establishment.

Sizzles and rattling metal pots sounded from a hidden kitchen as Merka occupied the seat opposite Anubis, a nearly empty bottle of rye in the Salvarian's hand.

He saw a figure from the corner of his eye, and looked up. "Kachuck mead," he said to the young barmaid.

[Fez_The_Kid]

The tavern itself, Anubis considered, was typical; scores of gambling travelers gathered to one side of the room; an overworked trainee and her bartending supervisor; the constant breakage of pottery in the kitchen; however, only the Kachuck mead was able to keep his patience intact. An establishment most would be hard-pressed to call a traveler’s inn, the Vulgar Toad seemed too fitting a name. More, the ground's constant quaking, a result of the miners' unyielding diligence, threatened to wreak havoc to the chamber. When questioned, locals simply shrugged, explaining that was the city's only way of surviving as the ceiling groaned overhead. That the distinct rumbles in the floorboards was the live testament to the Kachuck workers' readiness to tire in the name of prosperity.

And prospering they are, Anubis concluded. Haven’t seen so much trader posts and carriages in one place, much less this vigorous a mine comprising only a second-class race in a country. If this is Kachuck at its peak, wonder what Ettermire will have in store for me. He looked over at Merka, who was casually sitting on his chair. Even he's never seen the largest city in the world. Oh, of course, we won’t be passing that on our way. Damn. We need to find Gareth, and--as Merka would like to remind me--quickly.

Thus they observed, faces over the rims of their emptied tankards.

A veiled man appeared at the entrance, his shadowed gaze surveying the chamber as the door behind him swung shut. His gaze paused on the hunters, then, as if in acknowledgment, gave the slightest of nods. Then he made to progress through the clutter of drunkard-occupied tables to them, his cloak shedding dust as he moved. Man must be swimming in that cloak. Madame baroness likes to be extra careful, it seems.

"Our guest’s arrived," Merka murmured, shifting in his seat as he steadied himself. One arm resting on the tabletop, he brought the tankard to his lips and downed its remaining contents.

"The pilgrim that just entered?" Anubis sneered, eye still on the man.

"Except he isn’t one," Merka answered. "Or, well, at least I think he isn't. Quiet now, he’s here."

Anubis quickly mouthed, "Make way." Whether Merka caught the words or not, Anubis had no clue.

The elf turned in his seat, eyeing the man as he halted and faced them. He withdrew his hood to reveal a weary face, a shock of white hair on his bony pate. Silently studying them, the man faintly smiled, his forehead slick with sweat. Jaw muscles moved beneath skin as the man spoke. "Greetings. I trust I was not impertinent in my approach?"

"We were expecting you, sir. You are arrived in time." Merka smiled, gestured to a space next to Anubis. "Please, have a seat."

"My thanks, and Hither will suffice." The man smiled. “Would you, if you please, introduce yourselves, dear sirs?"

“Before we do that, I would like to mention that your point stands regarding the both of us as well."

Hither simply nodded. Merka then introduced himself, then Anubis--who had already begun questioning their new guest.

***

“--it is with utmost apprehension that I beg you to speed your search," Hither said, his tone fraught with worry. "I've known the lad since he was in his infancy--he is like my own son. Back in the day, when he were but a tot, he would wander the woods, search for fallen feathers, cradle his pup in the sun--”

"We would save everyone’s time," Anubis growled, "if you answer clear and to the point. My question still stands. With whom did Gareth drink the night he disappeared?"

"The answer to that is out of my reach, I’m afraid. I had asked the locals about any sighting, a trace--a clue, perhaps--that could be my first lead. Only…" Hither slowly shook his head, eyes on the tabletop.

"Agnes claimed he’d been last seen three months past, here, in Kachuck,” Merka said dryly.

“Correct." The old man scratched the stubble on his chin, a tinge of curiosity edging his tone. "Why do you mention that?"

“Three months ago means either of two things," Anubis said alarmingly. "Gareth is dead," he paused, considering the other, less realistic option, "or has gone into hiding."

"I considered this as well. The question lies in where?"

"And why?" Anubis added. Merka seemed to have caught the hint of sarcasm and struggled to keep a straight face. Hither appeared to have noticed, though if he was truly offended he managed to hide it well. "You search for any signs? Any clues?"

Hither grunted. "Who--with all due respect--do you take me for? Of course I did!" the man said in a shrill voice. "Not to mention, I haven't been a... complete failure in my efforts." The man cleared his throat, putting a fist to his mouth.

Anubis clenched his jaw. "Our patience is running thin," he muttered.

"Yes, yes, of course. Now, where was I? Oh, yes, my efforts. There have been recent news of an ongoing case in a village not too far south from here. All victims are still missing as of today."

"Anyone see the kidnapper?"

"Only one. A lass, hardly in her teens. Believes she saw… him snatch a man from his home. I believe the village is called Tranmere. It's half a league south once you're out of the mountains."

"Any description?" Merka asked. "Who is this man?"

"Except he's a monster--" Anubis exchanged glances with Merka, then returned his gaze on the man-- "ah yes, you're monster hunters."

Merka nodded. "Think it took our man?"

"No, I don't 'think' it took him--I am certain. Just like I am of my manhood."

Anubis drew a long sigh. "Alright, let's say it took Gareth. What's its description?"

"Well, a lass is not much of a reliable source for pinpointing a monster--but luckily, she only saw it from afar. Only managed to make out its shape. All I am able to give you is that it was a bipedal."

There was a long pause, then Merka said, "When?"

"Two bells before dawn, a fortnight ago."

"So it's nocturnal," Anubis said blandly.

"So it seems," Hither shrugged.

"I was talking to my friend."

"It could be a werewolf," Merka suggested, ignoring them. "Or a vampire. A manticore, even."

Hither raised the ridge of his brow. "A what now?"

"Manticore. You needn't know the details," Merka croaked. "Yet, we're merely speculating. We need more information." Frustration grew. "Much more."

"That is beyond me, I'm afraid. You'll have to look for clues in that house. Been sitting there abandoned ever since the incident. Folks are afraid to even come out."

"Thinking they're safe locked up behind barred doors. Yeah, figured as much," Anubis said, partly to himself. The Vulgar Toad's customers dwindled by the minute. Soon the three sat alone in a lurid lantern light, a full moon glowing in the night sky outside.

"We'll set out come the morning," Merka said after a while, addressing Anubis. Then he swung his gaze to Hither, "Thanks, for everything; we'll make sure to inform Agnes that your help was invaluable," a faint smile on his expression.

"No thanks needed--merely doing my job. Where will you stay the night, if you don't mind my asking?"

Merka and Anubis exchanged once again a glance, then settled their gaze on the robed man. The elf was the one to speak. "We will rent a room. Why do you ask?"

"Allow me to do the basic courtesy of bearing the payment--I insist," the old man said, not unkindly. "Consider it my good deed for the day."

[Fez_The_Kid]

“C'mon, elf, you never said you wanted me to wait for you.”

They sat on high boulderstones opposite each other, atop a steep cliff overlooking the mine city. Merka was sitting hunched over, occupied with a half-emptied beer bottle. The setting sun cast an orange tint across a cloud-stippled firmament, caressing their sides in its final hours of the day.

A soft breeze sighed across the rocky hilltop, interspersed only by precipitate rumblings sounding from the underlying mines. Merka took a calculated sip, wrinkling his nose at the bouquet. Notwithstanding, “Too strong,” he grimaced. A moment later he handed the bottle to Anubis, who took it with wry grin.

“So, just going to ignore what I said?” he questioned, downing a much wilder gulp, whereas he did not so much as wince. “Say something, dammit."

Merka blinked, then sighed. “What? Yes, I never said that." The elf's tone betrayed that he was deep in thought, his eyes fixed on the gravel at his feet. “I didn't expect you'd really wait for me to appear, but then again, I know you too well, Salvarian. That is not the point, however--I was merely worried that you would get yourself in trouble and I wouldn’t be there to save your arse,” he paused, waiting for a reaction. It never came. “Like every time trouble is brewing.”

Anubis grinned. "What can I say, the dwarves are a friendly folk when you grow on ‘em."

“There's a little more than just dwarves about here, if you didn’t notice.”

“Yeah, I noticed. But they tend to stay quiet, forbidding.” Anubis took a second sip, this time a significantly light one. “Think I saw a few elves during my stay here.”

"High?" Merka asked.

“No,” the Salvarian shook his head. Raiaera was in shambles, its displaced people worse. The ex-Bladesinger had sworn to save it from the hell it had been plunged into, and Anubis promised he would remain by his side till the end--sweet or bitter.

“Guessed as much,” the elf murmured disappointedly. A while later he asked, “How’s my blade?" eyeing the hide-wrapped object next to Anubis’ foot.

"Doing alright. Been longing to see its master for days now,” the Salvarian smiled, setting down the beer before picking up the weapon in the same manner he would cradle a child. He studied its outlined frame for a moment, then offered it to the elf. Merka took the weapon with equal caution, setting the weapon on his lap.

Slowly he untied the knot which bound the wrap together, which quickly fell to his side, revealing a long blade that seemed like a strip of night itself, the magic in it as potent as ever. The golden, ornate hilt disappeared in the elf's grasp as he lifted it, swung it about like a flail. "Dirge."

Anubis blinked. "What?"

"Dirge--that's its name."

"Never mentioned it had a name."

"Because it didn’t. Not until now, at least,” the elf's lips peeled in a smug grin, slipping the blade back into its original scabbard. "Thanks for taking care of it."

"Yeah…" Anubis murmured dryly, "almost forgot it wasn’t mine."