Chapter 65: The Hunter
It is not an easy question to answer, 'what to do'?
A great many possibilities spring to your mind all at once and with a but a few moments to decide on a course of action you can hardly gather insight from your officers. No matter, you will find a way, you simply need clarity and you seize upon the first thing that promises to grant you just a little.
You cast your gaze up to the heavens and for a moment your mind drifts up and away. It drifts into the peace and serenity to be found among the shifting clouds, motes of cotton occasionally obscuring the great, luminescent sphere that is the sun. It cuts a path through the sky, turning the sea of blues into reds and violets, the last drops of day, bleeding out into night. Such peace up there in the eternal sky, it fosters clarity, precision of thought, and with it you set your mind to working.
These things do not seem 'natural', for want of a better term, and while you can not be sure they were conjured by Mazzarin you are fairly certain that they were. If they are, then perhaps you can convince them to leave your people alone, hell, maybe you can convince them to aid the Royal Army and remove one threat to the Kingdom immediately.
That being said you hardly wish to risk your own life or the lives of your friends and allies in testing your theory. Perhaps a middle path is best, perhaps you can take all the necessary precautions to protect yourself without exposing yourself to harm. If you fortify your position and stay behind your impromptu barricade that should at least provide you a little cover from which to negotiate.
Yes, that might work, you just hope you are not being greedy...
You give Berty the orders, telling him to fortify your position as quickly as he can and to be mindful of your flanks and rear.
He nods along and begins barking orders to your men, a bounce in his step as he makes the rounds.
As he does so you run through every bit of information you have managed to gather on possible demons operating in the south. You remember that Morpheus had mentioned demons that have the ability to bewitch mortals with their voices.
With that in mind you pull off a pair of dwarves from the defensive line, “I want you two to stuff up your ears with rags and watch my every movement. If I start to behave oddly you are signal me.”
They too nod along. You do not share your fears with them. Your fears that such beings might be able to control more than one person, more than a handful of people, and that even if you do get the signal it may well do you no good, you may well be unable to resist the commands of these things.
You push those thoughts down. If these demons are that powerful then you have no real chance anyway.
The horns sound out again, the creatures have made great progress. You can see them clearly now, at first glance they could almost pass for men. Taller certainly, and with finer features but beyond that they compare favorably with most of the demons you have met. They have no tendrils with which to burrow into you, they have no feeding stalks, no distended frames, no wings, no claws, nothing to set them apart from men with one exception. Each has a pair of animal ears, some take the form of a horse, others the ears of hares, they poke up from between the strands of their fine, fair hair.
Each is dressed in a tunic and trousers of the brightest crimson with a mantle as green as the deep pines on top. Their mantle is further decorated by gold embroidery, it takes the form of leaves and hinds, hares and great flowering trees, each bears a single symbol on their left shoulder as well. A silver badge in the shape of an oak leaf. The final piece of their kit to draw your eye is the weapon each carries. A long, broad headed club, notched up and down its length with symbols you do not recognize.
One of these... Hunters, you suppose, breaks off from their fellows and advances toward your captured scout. The demon stops well short of your dwarf and hitches up his trousers, dropping into a squat, his equine ears twitching slightly. First he turns his head to the left, then he turns his head to the right, then he takes his cudgel from under his arm and he pokes at your soldier.
The soldier tries to grab the stick and is rewarded with a series of swift blows around the head and shoulders as the demon leaps to his feet and brays at the poor dwarf.
Thaïs shakes her head, “What are these things?”
“Damned if I know,” you answer with a concerned sigh.
“Best not to let them get too close,” the Old Man shouts as he moves from his part of the battle line to your own, when he closes he leans in and whispers, “If we attack them with everything we have as soon as they begin to close we should be able to wipe them all out before they reach us.”
You answer back with your orders matching his discrete tone, “We don't attack unless I give the order, understood?”
The Old Man grunts and opens his mouth to protest but stops in mid motion. He bobs his head, “Sure,” he forces a smile, “Absolutely...”
He turns on his heel and wanders back to his people.
“Think he is going to be a problem?” your better half enquirers, watching him go.
“Probably,” you answer, turning your attention back to the advancing demons.
They come to a stop at the line of waiting hounds, one, with the ears of a great gray hare, reaches over and scratches the largest hound behind the ear, it giggles at the affection. Another, with ears of silver fur, begins practicing with its club, swinging it back and forth in wide circles, it accidentally clips one of the hounds and sends it crashing into its pack mates. These things are certainly strong when they want to be.
To a man, er, demon, they seem distinctly unimpressed with your company and the number of weapons ready against them. They seem incredibly relaxed and confident, a fact that does little for your own sense of comfort.
The four are soon joined by the fifth and the remaining hounds, the hunter drags the broken and bloody body of your scout behind him, one large, white hand wrapped firmly around the dwarf's ankle. Your soldier has certainly received a beating but he does seem to be alive from what you can tell.
The fifth demon, the one that so badly savaged your scout, falls to conversation with the others. They gesture at your group, they bray and whine and one takes another great swing with his club. The hounds laugh heartily, then the largest of them rises and circles the hunters once. He slinks in next to the largest of the hunters, a great mountain of a demon with the ears of a goat, died a vibrant ruby red, and from what you can see the hound begins to mutter something.
The hunters turn back to your group en masse and the largest of them points directly at you, he gestures for you to come forward, over your barricade.
Naturally you refuse, waving your hand over your head and directing them to come closer.
He swings his cudgel twice over his head and repeats his instructions.
Once more you make your reluctance to comply quite clear.
He begins to hop and holler, baying at you, till one of his companions quiets him and steps forward. It is the gray hare, the one that had so readily shown its affection for the hounds. Seems he intends to negotiate as he begins to stride toward your position.
“Everyone get ready,” you whisper to your allies, “And remember, no one attacks until I give the order.”
The Hare Hunter whistles as he walks toward your line. He maintains a brisk pace, exudes confidence, as he closes he locks eyes with you and does not drop his gaze.
“Hello! Cousin Derry, hello!” he calls to you, tucking his club under his arm and raising his hands, “I be wishing to talk, nothing more!”
“That's close enough,” you caution him. Thaïs raises her crossbow to drive home your point.
He chuckles, “Ah, cousin Taide, that is a mighty fine bow you have there but you may as well lower it. I would not favour your odds of hitting me with it and if you go and fire that thing then I will have to excuse myself from these proceedings,” he gestures over his shoulder with his thumb, “Brother Beater and Brother Bounder back there would like nothing better than a reason to test your line, I would like to avoid giving them that reason.”
“So you want peace?” Lyssa calls out from your side.
He nods, “Oh, very much so cousin Lys, very much so. At least for the time being that is.”
“Well, we might just be able to make that work,” you answer, your words send up a hiss from the Seekers' part of the line, “Why are you chasing my people.”
“Your people?” the hare slaps his knee, “That is a good one Cousin!” he turns conspiratorially to his left and shouts into thin air, “'Her people' she says! Can you believe that, a mighty fine joker dear Cousin is!”
He snaps his head back toward you and gives you a sly grin.
“Derryth!” Berty shouts from the right flank, “The hounds are circling!”
Sure enough they have begun to spread out and creep around the edges of your battle line. Well, you can't have that.
You round on the Hare Hunter, “I thought you wanted peace, er, Cousin...”
“Cropper,” he answers with a wink, “Call me Cropper, Cousin. I do want peace, I can assure you of that.”
“Then call off the hounds,” you press him.
“Ah,” he scratches the back of his neck, “Alright Cousin, fair enough, fair enough!”
He lets out two high pitched whistles and the hounds begin to draw back toward the main body of the hunting party, they look thoroughly disappointed but Cropper merely grins at you, “That better Cousin?”
“Immensely,” Thaïs replies and spares him a smile, “Thank you.”
He beams, “Ah Cousin, a smile like that, it could light a world, it could. It makes me want to be a better man than I am!”
He does seem to be friendly enough but you are not certain that he is entirely in control of his faction or his faculties. It would be best to end this as quickly as you can, “So, Cousin Cropper, why were you chasing my people?”
He shakes his finger at you, “Cousin Derry, that is what I was getting at. They are not your people. They are necromancer's spies, servants of the Dark, our common foe so to speak.”
“Have any proof?” Lys chimes in.
“I should think you would know,” Cropper answers, his grin turning sharp, “I should think you would know...” he laughs, “I mean with all of your combined experience fighting the Dark, I mean. All that time battling servants of the Watcher, surely, you must have, at some point, maybe, come up with a way to detect those spies, those cowards, those traitors that make themselves the enemy of life everywhere? Right?”
Well there might be a few ways to tell that you can think of but none that you care to share with a half mad demon scout, “Possibly,” you reply carefully.
“Beautiful,” he clasps his hands together, “So as I was saying, and as you can confirm if you have half the mind to do so, those dwarves we are chasing serve the Watcher and it is our job to purge the Dark from the Kingdom.”
“A demon fighting the Dark,” the Old Man shouts as he leaves his place in the line and moves toward you, “What sort of foolishness is this?”
Cropper narrows his eyes, “One, Slaver, I am no demon. Two, the Dark and the Dark Gods are not one and the same. Three, it is not polite to be interrupting a private conversation between family.”
“Family?” the Old Man glares at the hare and then at the three of you, “What is he talking about?”
“I have not the faintest idea,” you reply in unison.
The Old Man begins to tense, “I am sure.”
“Now hold on,” you raise a hand, “No need to jump to conclusions!”
You gesture to Cropper with a single hand, “Why don't we ask him what he means?”
The Old Man grunts and nods, “Alright, why not?”
Cropper pulls himself up to his full height, “That is easy, I was told about the three of you and I was told to keep an eye out for your coming,” he shuffles, the tips of his ears beginning to colour, “Well you see, its well, he, meaning the Master, made us memorize our orders so we would not make a mistake, or get distracted, or run off with all the pretty lads and lasses,” Cropper grins, “So, well, so I set my orders to a little rhyme,” he coughs, clearing his throat, “One o fire, one o night, one o beasts and ya got it right! Hunt the pale man, hunt the beast, hunt their servants, from greatest ta the least!”
The Hare Hunter looks equal parts proud and embarrassed at his little rhyme, “So when I saw the three of you, all mages right, all together like that, I figured, well, I figured what were the odds right? I mean three humans, three women, three mages, one with the red hair and the other with the black and then all those animals on the third, and above, and around, and well, I figured that you were my dear cousins, allies in my Master's hunt, and so that is what I told the others. I told them you must be Derry, and Taide and Lys and that you are our friends or at least not enemies, not yet anyhow.”
“And who is this 'master',” the Old Man presses, “Which Dark God do you serve fiend!”
“Why,” the Hare Hunter shrugs, “Not a one, I serve my Lord and he serves his Lord and we are all swore to the service of the Greatest Mage to ever walk this world. We serve the Mazzarin.”
The Old Man laughs at this, “Mazzarin has been dead for centuries, don't lie to me beast.”
“Beast!” Cropper leaps two meters closer to your line, club in hand, “Beast! Cousins, if you can not control this fiend, this slaver, this merchant of souls then by the hills and the rocks and the trees I will cave his thick head in this moment!”
The Old Man begins to channel, you grab him by the shoulder and hiss in his ear, “What are you doing!”
“Killing a few demons,” he answers coldly.
“Not without my orders,” you insist.
“Then give the order,” he replies, his voice sharp as a razor. He breaks free from you and in a blink speeds his way back to his section of the line. With or without your help it seems that the Seekers are set on fighting this battle. Perhaps you should have expected that given their known attitude toward the 'unnatural'.
“A shame, dear cousins,” Cropper calls to you, swinging his club back a forth, “It would be an absolute shame if your dog bites, then we might have to put him down!”
The other hunters cheer and the hounds laugh mightily.
“Five of you and a handful of hounds,” the Old Man answers, “Can't say I like your odds monster!”
“Oh,” Cropper laughs, “We have got far more than that!”
You don't see anything.
You do however hear something.
It is quite quiet, a mere whisper on the breeze but slowly it begins to build.
It is a threat and a promise of violence though you are not yet sure who it is directed at.
It is the sound of voices and of horses and you can not say how long you have before this whisper breaks into a shout and a panic that will drive your sense from you.
It occurs to you that perhaps Cropper is not the hunter, perhaps his lord is, and you stare up at the sinking sun and wonder what will come when it falls beyond the horizon, what will come with the night?
Cropper watches you, watching the sun, he grins warmly, “Clever Cousin, but don't you worry none. Little more, a little more and my lord will be here, then we can all talk properly, without snapping dogs at our heels.”
1. Well, seems things are about to come to head. How do you want to handle this situation?
A) You do nothing. The Seekers will likely attack the huntsmen and they have an immediate advantage but if their Lord is coming then who knows what will happen. You will simply wait with your forces and make a decision once one side has won. Hopefully both sides will refrain from attacking you but that might be a bit much to ask for.
B) You throw your lot in with the Seekers. That should demonstrate to the Old Man that you are not actively consorting with demons (even though you do technically consort with demons fairly often). It is likely that the Seekers will be suspicious of you going forward but there is nothing you can do about that now, you will just have to win them over later. At least you know where they stand. Unfortunately you will also have to attack an enemy with unknown abilities and numbers, and one which may be about to receive an unknown amount of reinforcements.
C) You throw your lot in with the huntsmen. They claim to be something other than demonic and they do seem to know a lot of what is going on. It is possible they have been given information by Mazzarin that could help you in the south and by helping them deal with the Seekers you might be able to secure them as an ally to the Kingdom. Of course, you don't know how the dwarven leadership will react to such a turn of events, you don't know if you should or even can trust these things and if you declare your support for the huntsmen then you will have to deal with twenty battle mages at fairly close range along with their guardians.
D)Withdraw. As soon as the Seekers attack the huntsmen you will order as much of your forces to withdraw. Hopefully you will be able to put enough distance between you and the battlefield to prevent excessive casualties. At the very least you can try to protect your command group by fleeing in the carriage. It is likely that you will lose some people and it will kill morale but it may be the most reasonable course to pursue.
E) Negotiate. Maybe you can prevent a conflict if you hand over the scouts the huntsmen are chasing. Bit of a long shot though as the Seekers do seem fairly committed to starting something here.
F) freeform – And for anything else, more complex, more clever, you have the ever popular freeform option.