Hunter Becomes Hunted

[SteelVoltage]

Hunter Becomes Hunted


Leon moved in a crouch, careful with the way his boots fell as he wove his way through the trees. The Concordia forest was a chorus of chirping of crickets and croaking of bullfrogs. Leon wasn't the best at the art of subtlety, but had been on enough hunting expeditions to understand the basics of moving through the forest without making a stir. The shadow of the night was enough to conceal his image, but if he caused any sounds it would bring attention his way.

He lowered into prone position at the edge of a small forest clearing. In the center of the clearing was a large wagon covered with a burlap canvas. Two black draft horses were tethered to it, nibbling on grass nearby. Next to the wagon was a campfire surrounded by eight men. The group drank merrily from casks of wine and small barrels of mead. They had a boar on a spit roasting over an open flame. Leon watched as they cut greasy pieces meat off of it and stuffed them into their mouths.

There were two more men, armed with longswords and crossbows, patrolling a few yards away from the camp. They moved along opposite ends, eyes on the blackness of the forest. From their swaying movements and sluggish turns, Leon could see they were drunk. A guard passed him, staring right into the shadows where Leon lay, and without pause continued on his way. With the guard's back to him, he crept closer the the group to get a look at the men at around the campfire.

Most of the men were lightly armed, wearing nothing more than leather brigadines. Each had a sword and dagger at his hip. Their spears were leaning against the far side of the wagon. They were hired swords, tasked with escorting the wagon through Concordia forest to Underwood.

Two other men had far different appearances than the hired swords. One had dark, near black skin, and wore red robes. Over the robes he had a leather harness with several throwing axes dangling from it. The other had large red had with a bright yellow feather in it and an expensive red velvet doublet on. He drank straight from a bottle of wine and let out raucous laughter at the group's jokes.

The two were the ring leaders, part of Crin Stonehand's smuggling operation. Leon had paid good coin to find out their location and learned that the man with the red hat was named Gregoir Morgo. The black man was Luhi, a warrior from some faraway land, who server Gregoir's bodyguard. The two were smuggling arms from Radasanth to Underwood, feeding the rebellion.

Crin Stonehand's criminal empire paid off enough imperial officials that the shipment easily went unnoticed the entire trip. Crin had been feeding both sides and making a large profit from war since its inception. It was through Gregoir Morgo that Leon could learn the crime lord's location. He just had to get the information out of him first.

Crin had manipulated Leon's drunk of a father, Lord Aecus Blackstone, leaving the Blackstone name sundered and bleed her treasury dry. Leon had vowed to reclaim their wealth and take down Crin Stonehand. Except, he wasn't any an easy man to find.

Leon had been trained in the blade since since his childhood and also was an apprentice mage. Despite this, he felt a bit nervous trying to take on ten armed men. It would be no easy task, but with the element of surprise and a little destructive magic he figured he could make it work.

It was only a matter of time. He would wait, let them drink and fill their bellies with meat. Once they started to slump and prepare for sleep, he would strike.

[SteelVoltage]

With their bellies full of greasy meat and booze, the men around the campfire began to drift into a slumber. Most slept on the hard ground, the warmth of the night made it comfortable enough However, Gregoir had pulled out a bedroll and inched himself into it. Luhi, his black body guard stayed awake. He mostly stared into the fire but occasionally his eyes would scan the forest surrounding them.

Leon knew it was time to strike. The drunkards would be slow to wake, leaving him to take on Luhi and the two patrolling guards first. Still in his prone position, he began to mutter an incantation under his breath. He wove the spell and held onto its power, waiting for the perfect moment.

Luhi turned his head from the flames, gazing to the opposite side of the clearing. Leon hopped to his feet and held out his index and middle finger, pointing towards the center of the group. He released the spell and the campfire imploded in a sphere freezing cold temperatures. The fire went out instantly, dousing the camp into darkness. Shards of razor sharp ice pelted the men resting there. Luhi had been knocked over from the impact of the cold. He rolled and jumped up, drawing two of his throwing axes. His eyes searched the darkness and saw a glimmer of steel to the right.

Leon was pulling his bastard sword free of its scabbard. He charged, hurling over one man and delivering a upward slash meant to rend Luhi in two. The black warrior side stepped and only the tip of Leon's sword bit into his shoulder. It drew crimson, Luhi reeled back from the pain. His face twisted in rage and he swung his right arm across, attempting to hack Leon's neck. Leon parried the blow, his sword rung with the collision. There was little time. He couldn't get caught in a melee duel. The other men were stirring around him and it would make his life much more difficult having to face several at a time.

He muttered another incantation and held onto his sword with one hand, pointing the other straight at Luhi's chest. The black warrior rushed at Leon head on, both axes ready to decapitate him. Jagged ropes of blue white lightning erupted form Leon's finger tips. The bolts struck Luhi straight in the chest. The impact lifted him off the ground and threw him more than fifteen yards across the clearing, his body pulsed with blue light the entire flight.

Leon held onto the spell's power, pointing at as he turned. He raked the ground around the camp with the forked tongues of lightning spell. Men who were rising were struck, crumpling over in convulsions as it energy passed through them. As the electricity passed, streamers of smoke began to trail off their bodies. The only one around the camp he didn't electrocute was Gregoir, who sat up in wide-eyed fear.

The patrolling guards were now on Leon. A crossbow bolt hissed by his right ear and a second grazed his right hip. Its bladed tip shredded his mail and split his flesh. Blood poured from the wound down his leg. Both dropped their crossbows and charged with their longswords. Leon swung his bastard sword and severed the arm of the first guard before he could finish his stroke. With a howl of pain the armless man fell face first into the smoldering fire.

He caught the second guard's thrust with the flat of his blade. The guard tried to slide his blade up to gouge Leon's belly, but Leon stepped into his thrust, knocking the blade up. With his opponent off balance, Leon brought his sword across in an horizontal slash, disemboweling the man in one stroke.

Gregoir frantically tried to wiggle his way out of his bedroll. Leon walked over and put the tip of his bloody sword to Gregoir's throat.

"What do you want with me wizard?" Gregoir said. "Are you some sort of Imperial agent, I can explain this shipment--"

"I don't care about your shipment. I'm no Imperial," Leon said.

"Then who are you?"

Leon ignored his question. "Where is Crin Stonehand?"

"I don't know Crin Stonehand," Gregoir said. Leon lowered his sword and backhanded Gregoir across the face. Gregoir shrunk, holding the red patch growing on his cheek.

"Don't lie to me, if you know what's best for you."

[SteelVoltage]

"Gregoir Morgo," Leon said. "I know your name. You're the right hand man to Crin Stonehand—so tell me. Where is he?"

Gregoir's expression up to this moment had been wide eyed fear. Upon hearing Leon reference his name, his eyebrows furrowed in rage and his lips pressed into a thin line. He fought the rest of the way out of his bed roll, getting to his knees.

Leon stepped forward, raising the pointy tip of his sword close to Gregoir's chin.

"If know that much, you'd know how busy of a man Crin can be. Even I don't know where he is," Gregoir said. "Now if you'd excuse me, sticking swords in people's face is very rude."

Leon took the bastard sword in two hands and slashed downward. The sharp tip traveled the length of Gregoir's doublet, severing the buttons that held it closed. Gregoir yelped in pain as the doublet fell open, revealing his hairy fat belly. The sword tip had grazed his flesh, leaving a long red scratch down the length of torso that began to bubble red with blood.

"You're a wanted criminal. I have no problem taking your head back to Radasanth in a basket to claim the bounty on your head. What was it again? Four thousand gold sovereigns—I'd be a very rich man and live well beyond my means with that much gold," Leon said and grinned at Gregoir.

Gregoir face turned purple with rage and he spat at Leon. "Kill me if you want. Even if I told you where Crin is you'd never be able to touch him, even with your sorcery."

Leon brought the sword across his body, winding up for a swing. He took a single step forward and slashed. Gregoir saw the steel flash and howled. "Wait!"

Leon halted in mid swing, his arms trembled from the weight of the blade already in motion. He had stopped his swing less than a foot away from Gregoir's neck. The criminal shook with fear, his arms were raised up to shield his head and neck. Not that such a defense would have saved him from Leon's stroke. He lowered his arms and glanced with wary eyes at the blade that would have taken his life. Leon retracted the weapon, lowering it to his side.

"Crin was supposed to be going to Underwood to meet with some Corone Ranger named Dobeck. The Rangers haven't been paying us in full and Stonehand was going to collect his debt. This was going to be our last shipment if they couldn't own up. I don't know if he's still there or not," Gregoir said.

"There," Leon said. "Wasn't that easy."

With one swift move, Leon stepped and brought the pommel of his sword down on top of Gregoir's head. He heard heard Gregoir's bottom jaw clap against the top upon the impact. The criminal's eyes rolled back in his head and his body went slack. As he fell the back of his head thumped off the ground.

After sheathing his sword, Leon set off into the dark forest. It was a day and a half hike to Underwood and he had no time to lose.

[SteelVoltage]

Dawn broke in the east, illuminating the forest in a pale gray. It wouldn't be until midday that the sun's golden light touched the forest floor. The massive oaks and evergreens stood sentinel, their canopy shielded the earth from the direct sun. Leon traversed an old hunter's path which wended its through Concordia—down into valleys, through flower filled meadows, and across gushing streams.

During the past hour he had picked up his pace, moving at a light jog. More than once he had heard the snapping of twigs and the rustling of a bush behind him. The forest seemed too quiet and he had a bad feeling he was being followed. The closer he got to Underwood, the deeper into the Ranger's territory he went. He figured it wouldn't be long until he ran across some patrol. The rebels hadn't survived so long against the might of the Corone Empire without vigilance. It was their expertise in forestry that kept Underwood and Concordia safe from the hordes that amassed around it.

During the middle of the night he had abandoned his surcoat bearing the emblem of House Blackstone, a black three headed dragon on a field of white. He burned it, leaving nothing more than a pile ashes. The last thing he needed was some Corone Ranger finding it in the woods and leading a search for him.

Through his father's reckless partnership with Crin Stonehand, the Blackstones had supported the rebellion's efforts. Crin had smuggled many a shipment through Blackstone lands and gone untouched. Despite the shady business dealings, they had not supported the rebellion directly. The bannermen and militia of House Blackstone still marched with the Imperial Army, loyal the the Viceroys. Wearing his heradly would only get him killed out here.

Leon had spent most of the war deep in his studies of magic. Despite blood born position in the aristocracy, he loathed the war and its misgivings. Corone had one been a republic, but the game of politics had always been a dangerous affair. A few had grabbed power and created a unified Empire. Other than the shattered ideal of freedom, little had changed. The poor still work and the rich still rule. Leon cared not who held the mantle of power, as long as they were responsible with it.

The rebellion fought for morality and the Empire fought to retain power. He knew it was a fight to the death and there was nothing he could do to stop it. It just pained him to see so many die for an ideal. Freedom was such a vague thing, a forlorn hope at the most. Even someone highborn didn't have true freedom, although they they lived with so many conveniences.

There was another snap of a twig behind him. Before he could turn to look, he saw several flashes of silver and heard a concert of groans from bowstrings being drawn. Six men hooded in dull green cloaks stepped out from the bramble. They him surrounded on all sides, their longbows were drawn with steel-tipped arrows. Despite his instinct to do so, he didn't dare reach for his sword, instead he put his hands up.

A seventh person emerged, stepping onto the footpath in front of him. The individual was tall and lanky. He had his hood drawn back, revealing a cascade of blond hair that fell past his shoulders. If it wasn't for his flat chest and pointed ears, Leon would have thought him to be a fair woman.

"You're a long way off the road traveler," the elf said.

"I am," Leon said. It was true, the hunting trail he followed was almost ten miles from the main route through Concordia.

"What brings you out here?" the elf said. "You're not a trader. That's a fine sword you have there and a shiny shirt of mail—you're must be a warrior. You travel alone, but do not take the path everyone else does; a curious thing indeed. I don't suppose you wanted to take the scenic route through our fine forest here?"

"You'll find I am harmless to the Corone Rangers. I make for Underwood. I am looking for work. I hear the rebellion is hard up for volunteers," Leon said.

The ranger perked an eyebrow. "A mercenary, indeed, that would be the most likely back story. It works quite well, explains why you are so well armed. But, I still find it curious how far you've strayed from the road. Lend me a good explanation to that and I might let you on your way."

"I was never on the main road from the start," Leon said. "I heard this was the fastest route. Had I know it would have left me suspect I would have taken the main route instead."

The elf's eyebrows narrowed and then he walked over to Leon, stopping when they were face to face. Leon noticed that the his eyes were almost liquid amber in color. They carried the weight and wisdom of entire lifetimes. Elves matured and grew much slower then men, but they retained much more over their long existences. It wasn't an easy task to trick such wise being.

"Confiscate his weapons," the elf said. "Looks like he will be taking a nice long walk with us to Underwood."

The rangers slid their arrows back into their quivers and slung the bows over their shoulders. The one of his left took his bastard sword from the scabbard and the other gave him a pat down. The ranger stopped at the ankle and removed Leon's boot knife from its holster, stuffing it in his own belt.

"Let's go," the elf said.

The ranger holding the bastard sword nudged Leon into a walk.