That the primary bounty hunter who took the job, Karolis, ended up becoming Remi's lifelong partner in crime (only after nearly killing him several times) is one of the most popular tales told in taverns today. The story is often exaggerated to make Remi appear initially buffoonish, until Karolis becomes so furious at the Black Fox's inexplicable ability to survive that the cunning Remi gains the upper hand, which impresses Karolis so much that the bounty hunter joins him.
- Codex entry: The Adventures of the Black Fox
...oo00O00oo...
And so, after many such incidents where this man in the black domino mask would appear, disrupt the Lord Val Chevin's plans and make a general mock of him, the lord called for all the mercenaries and sellswords of the land to appear before him in his castle.
Even inside his own castle, in his own great hall, the man's hubris required that he stand only on a small balcony he had especially constructed. From this vantage point, he looked down on the great mass of armed men who had assembled. Tossing his embroidered cloak over his shoulders, he addressed them thus:
"As the lord of these lands, I am their steward, appointed by the Emperor and blessed by Andraste and the Maker. It has come to my attention that a cunning fox has made its way into our peaceful homeland, and is currently causing havoc and destruction wheresoever he runs. I speak, as you may know, of the highwayman who has of late appeared in various parts of Val Chevin, attacking my own men and challenging my authority. And while I and my men are ourselves assiduously hunting this beast, as the steward of these lands I must see that he is put down as quickly as possible. To that end, I hereby offer a bounty of fifty sovereigns to any who can bring me the head of this, this... Black Fox!"
There was a murmur throughout the hall. Fifty sovereigns was a fortune, enough for a man or a woman to retire from a life of violence and take up a life of ease. Many voices were raised, as mercenaries clamored their insistence that they would claim the prize.
Only the famous bounty hunter Karolis said nothing. He stared up at the balcony, until the lord felt his eyes on him, and turned to look. And then Karolis saluted him, turned, and left.
Such was his manner. He was a man of deeds, not of words. Words he considered as less than nothing, puffs of air easily passed over the lips. The others in the hall would shout and boast for an hour yet, while he would already be on the trail of this fox.
Rounding the castle on his way to the stables, Karolis looked all around, as was his habit. Many fugitives would try to hide up in a tree, or under a log, and so he made a practice of looking both up and down, and to both sides, as he walked or rode. And behold! There, balanced precariously on the slanting roof of the great hall, was a man. He lay on his stomach, clinging to the edge of the roof, and looked upside-down through one of the windows. "Ho there!" Karolis called. "You, on the roof!"
The man looked up, startled, and Karolis saw that he wore a black mask on his face. The lord's Black Fox! Karolis briefly admired the man's daring, coming so close to a lord who was even now offering fifty sovereigns for his head -
- but the admiration evaporated at the Black Fox squawked in surprise and, losing his grip, tumbled headlong off the roof, landing in an ungainly heap amidst the roses.
Karolis leapt forward, certain that a fortune lay easily within his grasp. The Black Fox pulled himself unsteadily to his feet as the bounty hunter approached, with a naked sword in his hand. But the rogue did not even appear to see him; he instead stared accusingly at the rosebush he had grabbed to help himself up. "Ouch!" he cried indignantly, letting go the plant and jamming a still-gloved thumb into his mouth. "Varlet shrubbery!"
The old, thick rose cane whipped forward when released, raking Karolis across the face. The pain was not great, but it was surprising. He had to stop, closing his eyes and turning his head, lest the thorns blind him. It was a pause of less than one breath, but when he turned back to see his quarry, the Black Fox was gone.
The hunt was on.
Karolis rode hard, searching high and low for the Black Fox. Then, one day, he stopped at an inn to rest and take some food, and an old dwarf approached his table. "I beg your pardon, ser," the greybeard said. "Would you be the bounty hunter Karolis?"
Karolis nodded. "I am."
"And are you hunting the outlaw they call the Black Fox?"
Karolis stood. "Why do you ask?"
The dwarf fell back a step, half-bowing. "I meant no offense, ser. My name is Bolek, and this rascal fox led my beautiful daughter away with him into the forest. I found them together by a bend in the river, and brought her back with me. But I owe the man a bad turn, and if you hurry, you may yet find him there."
"If your words are true, old one, then one-tenth of the reward shall go to you, that you may have a good dowry for your daughter." So saying, Karolis strode toward the door.
"Maker keep you, ser!" the surprised dwarf gasped behind him.
The sound of water drew Karolis quickly to the river, and he hastened upstream to where the bend was. Sitting on the riverbank, tossing pebbles into the flow, was the Black Fox. He looked up as the armored warrior approached. "Are you the blacksmith?" he asked. "You're early. I'm not due to meet with your daughter for another half hour."
Karolis did not answer, but drew his sword. The Black Fox scrambled to his feet, drawing a blade of his own. "You know, I think it's really unfair to thrash me for a liaison I haven't even had yet!" Steel met steel, the sound crashing through the forest. Karolis was a larger and stronger man, and the force of his blows drove the Black Fox back. "Really, serah! I do protest. By the Chantry's own laws, I haven't even gotten close to a mortal sin. What rough penance is this?" The smaller man slipped to the side; Karolis followed, not letting up. "Maker's blood! Where'd a smith learn to fight so?"
"I am not a blacksmith!" Karolis finally roared, frustrated by the man's incessant chattering.
The Black Fox parried another thrust and asked quizzically, "Then why in the world are we fighting?"
"Idiot! Dullard! Buffoon!" Karolis rained heavy blows down, and the Fox fell back and back again, until he was at the very river's edge. "I am Karolis!"
The Fox jumped backwards, landing on a stone in the river. "Do I know your daughter?"
Karolis waded into the river; it was not deep, so close to shore. Water swirled around his shins as he neared the Fox, who quickly leapt to another stone. Karolis changed course to follow him. He could feel the water tugging at his feet, and he slowed. His quarry could not slip away without him seeing, not this time, and it would be ridiculous to be drawn into a trap this way.
"You're not very sporting," the Black Fox noted. "I thought we could have a bit of fun. You know, a sort of exciting rock-to-rock leaping contest, only with swords."
Karolis glared at him and took another step forward, carefully setting his foot among the rocks of the riverbed.
"I suppose not. Then... you won't be offended if I don't join you down there? The boots are Antivan leather, I don't want to get them wet."
That gave Karolis pause. The water was up to his thigh now, giving the Fox quite an advantage on height. But it also put his ankles in easy grabbing range, and he could not much maneuver, trapped on a rock as he was. Karolis took another step forward.
"You're a determined sort of chap, I'll give you that," the Fox said. "But I think this is too close for comfort." He turned, still a yard or more away from Karolis, and jumped again, toward a rock in the center of the river, where the water ran deep and fast.
He missed.
"Not the boots!" he yowled when he bobbed to the surface, carried swiftly away downstream by the rushing current.
Karolis swore and slogged back to shore, sprinting down the riverbank to try and follow the bandit. He followed for a mile or more, listening to the Black Fox alternately sputter and bewail the damage done to his boots, his jerkin, and his hose, until the riverbank ended in a cliff where the river turned sharply to the side.
A week later, he stopped at another inn, this one in a trading town. Drinking his wine, he looked up when a beautiful woman in priest's robes entered the inn, sobbing as if her heart would break. "Woe is me!" she cried. "I have earned Andraste's ire and for what? The soft words of a black-masked man!"
Karolis perked up at that. "A black-masked man, you say? Where is this fellow, Mother?"
"Oh!" The priest flinched away from him. "I cannot ask that any do violence on my behalf, my son. It was only my own folly that caused my sin."
"But this man may be one wanted by the Lord Val Chevin," Karolis said. "There is a bounty of fifty sovereigns on his head, and I will give one-tenth of it to the Chantry if you can tell me where he is."
The woman wiped her eyes. "Five... five sovereigns? I, Mother Servana, asks that the Maker bless you, ser, for doing the work of our kind lord." She snuffled one last time, then cleared her throat. "I left him in the bell tower, but I pray you - shed no blood in our holy place!"
"I'll do what I can, Mother," he said, but made no promises.
He climbed the many stairs that led up to the top of the Chantry's bell tower, and found himself a little out of breath at the end. "Hi ho, who's there?" came the cheery, chattering voice he was beginning to hate. How had this clumsy fool escaped him twice already? "Is it the bell-ringer? Are you a hunchback?"
Karolis said nothing, hoping to sneak up on the Black Fox and subdue him. But as he eased himself around one of the huge bells, he found that he was suddenly face-to-face with the man. "Oh! It's my friend the blacksmith!" the Fox laughed, before ducking back behind the bell. "Have you come to fix the bells? Do they not ring properly? Here, I'll help you find the broken one!" Karolis heard footfalls, and then caught a glimpse of the Fox swinging on one of the pull-ropes. The bell beside him pulled slowly away from him.
Karolis swore and jumped forward before the bell could swing back. Laughing insanely, the Fox caught another rope and swung on that one, setting another bell in motion. Soon, half the bells in the tower were ringing, their sound deafening in close quarters. Karolis was never so glad he was used to looking in all directions at once as he dodged and wove between the swinging bells, looking for his quarry. He headed for the stairs, expecting that the Fox would be trying to make his escape that way.
Sure enough, the black-masked man was sneaking toward the door. But the arc of a bell interrupted his path, and Karolis shouldered into him, knocking them both to the floor. The smaller man seemed to slide and roll improbably far, his motion taking him right to the edge of the large, gaping holes that pierced the tower, allowing the sound of the bells to ring far and wide over the town. He sprung up and actually stepped farther back, out onto a ledge that ran around the tower. He gestured to a spot in front of him and drew his sword, swished it around a bit, then looked at Karolis and grinned madly, beckoning.
He wants me to duel him on a ledge seventy feet above the ground?
Karolis side-stepped as another bell swung his way, and a thought occurred to him. Mother Servana had asked that he not shed blood in the Chantry, and he didn't need to take the Fox alive. One solid blow, and the man would fall to his death.
The Black Fox was looking down at the ground and blowing kisses; he turned and straightened as Karolis approached. He slid sideways a bit, and then a bit more, continually gesturing to a spot in front of him that he wanted the bounty hunter to occupy, but Karolis just went straight for him. The Fox's eyes widened, and he held up both hands, shaking his head.
Karolis nodded grimly, and as the bells crashed out their cacophony behind him, he brought his sword down.
The Black Fox caught it on his own blade, but as in the forest, the sheer force of the blow sent him reeling back - into thin air!
Karolis stepped forward eagerly, looking down and expecting to see his quarry in a broken pile of flesh and bone on the cobblestones. Instead, he saw a wagon heaped with hay trundling by, the oblivious driver entirely concerned with poking his ox along and not even noticing that a masked man was half-buried in his cargo. The Black Fox waved merrily at Karolis as the wagon rolled on.
By the time the bounty hunter had charged down all the stairs of the bell tower, the wagon was out of sight.
Karolis cursed and threw his sword to the street. This was ridiculous! The man was a fool, with a fool's luck. But luck always gave out, eventually. Simmering, Karolis picked up his sword and sheathed it. He had skill on his side, and tenacity. He would not give up, and sooner or later the fool's folly would be the end of him.
Two weeks after that, he came upon a well-armored man, encamped alone by the side of the road. "Hail, friend," he said. "Might I share your fire?"
"If you come in peace, be welcome," the knight grumbled.
His dark tone made Karolis hesitate. "I will keep on if my presence troubles you, ser."
"No, no," the man waved a hand irritably. "You do not trouble me. The Black Fox, he troubles me."
"Oh?" Karolis asked, dismounting.
"My name is Ser Clementis, and I have been trying to make my fortune by hunting this fox for the Lord Val Chevin," the knight said sourly. "More the fool I. I have been battered and abused, taunted and tormented, and I think I should be better off to find a different foe. A wyvern, perhaps."
"I, too, am hunting this Black Fox," Karolis said. "Truly, you wish to give up your claim to him?"
Clementis waved his hand again. "He's up the mountain here, hiding near some caves. Have at him, if you think you can best him. I'm done with it."
"I am not an ungrateful man," Karolis said. "If I find him where you have said that he is, I will give you a finder's fee from the bounty. Five sovereigns."
Clementis chuckled darkly. "It is generous of you to promise money you do not have. Your pardon," he added, as Karolis frowned. "I am in a foul mood, thanks to that Fox. Your offer shows gentility of spirit, ser, and I thank you, regardless of the outcome."
"I will go at once, before he can bolt," Karolis said, and set off up the mountain.
The Black Fox was engaged in tossing pebbles down the mountainside, listening to the skitter and clatter as they rolled down and down. "Oh, no," he said with disappointment, when he saw Karolis climb into view. "Don't tell me you've given up your smithy for a mercenary's life! Ser, you must go back to your home and family. I'm sure your daughter misses you."
"I do not have a daughter," Karolis hissed. "I am not a blacksmith."
"Well, it's no wonder you couldn't fix the Chantry bells, then."
"I am Karolis! I am the most famed, the most feared bounty hunter in Orlais!" he shouted, temper frayed past all endurance. "I do not fix bells!I hunt men, and I catch them, and today," he drew his weapon and leveled it at the Fox, "I will catch you."
One eyebrow quirked above the domino mask. "You will?"
"Yes." Karolis stepped forward. "There are no convenient rose bushes here."
"No, it's rather bleak. Some flowers would be nice, though."
"There is no river to carry you away."
"Just as well. It utterly spoiled my boots."
"And no convenient passing hay wagon to save you!"
"Wasn't that an amazing coincidence?" the Black Fox grinned, and Karolis froze.
It was.
It was too many amazing coincidences.
The Black Fox bounced a small stone experimentally in his hand, and then threw it - uphill.
"Coincidental rockslide," he said simply, as Karolis heard the roar of an avalanche of stone quickly bearing down on him. He looked uphill, saw the river of rock, looked in all directions at once and saw no tree, no cover, no escape but to drop his sword, run across the face of the mountain and throw himself forward and pray to the Maker for the best.
So that was what he did. His blade clattered to the ground as he ran for all he was worth, arms pumping hard. At the last moment, when he could see boulders tumbling close to his heels, he threw himself forward. His sword was swept away, downhill, with the rockslide, and a few stones banged his ankles hard, but he had escaped his doom.
Until a blade was pressed casually to his throat. "Well?" the Black Fox asked. "What do you think?"
He was not talking to Karolis. Out of the nearby cave came the greybearded dwarf Bolek and the beautiful Chantry priest Servana, the latter without her robes. The dwarf considered him gravely. "It is rare that one with a generous spirit has a dark heart. If he will turn from his current path, I would be glad to have him walk with us."
"He wanted you to know that he was famous," Servana said. "If he values reputation more than coin, I believe we can trust him."
"Another shield-brother to catch arrows aimed you all would sit well with me!" came the voice of Ser Clementis, struggling up a deer trail well away from the rockslide.
"All thoughts which mirror my own," the Black Fox said, and the blade moved away from Karolis's throat. The Black Fox reached up and slid his mask off, leaving it resting atop his head. "Welcome to my court, Karolis the bounty hunter. I am Lord Remy Vascal," he said, helping Karolis to sit up, "although I am quickly becoming fond of this 'Black Fox' moniker."
"Lord? You are no common brigand, then?" Karolis said, surprised.
Remy laughed. "I strive to be uncommon in all things, serah. Including the way I find new allies for my cause." He looked down at Karolis, suddenly keen. "The Lord Val Chevin is a pig. You have eyes in your head, I trust that you can see this plain fact. Someone must do the proper thing and protect the people of Val Chevin - from their own lord, if need be. I have taken it unto myself to do this very thing. Would you join with us?"
"I... that is quite an offer," Karolis said slowly, too aware that Lord Remy still held a dagger in his hand. "Never has a lord offered to take a common man such as myself into his service; and little do I think of many lords, including Val Chevin, who cannot catch a fox in his own henhouse. But you, messere, have had quite the best of me, and so I must admit you as my better."
"Say not that," the Black Fox shook his head. "I stand as a captain of equals here."
"Truly, he does," Servana said. "The occasionally insufferable, too-clever, arrogant bastard captain, but no one here scrapes and bows to his lordship."
"Maker forbid," Ser Clementis added fervently, finally dragging himself up to the cave mouth.
"Sweetheart, you are too kind," Remy smiled at her, then looked back down at Karolis. "Your name and fame are spread wide, Karolis. But I ask - is your head worth fifty sovereigns?" He grinned, the mad expression Karolis was quickly coming to be wary of. "Mine is. Come with us, and you'll be more than famous - you'll be infamous. Mark my words, they'll tell the tales of the Masked Man of Val Chevin - or maybe 'The Black Fox,' it's certainly shorter and punchier - for years and years to come, when they've long forgotten who the best bounty hunter of this generation was."
"We do not do this for fame," Bolek cautioned.
"No, but it's certainly a nice fringe benefit." Remy extended his non-dagger-bearing hand down to Karolis. "What do you say?"
Karolis looked at the hand, then looked at Remy's face.
Justice for the people.
Confusion to the enemy.
A legend for all time.
And never being on the wrong side of that mad smile again.
He grasped Remy's hand and pulled himself upright. "I'm with you."
And forever after, he was.