Hey sorry this one is so late it took me and my editor a while to comb through it as we've both had stuff on. Chapter 3 is well into construction and should be out waaaay sooner than this one was. I've put in a few answers to some questions but a lot of the big ones remain, some you might even have to piece together throughout the story :). Once more constructive criticism is appreciated and my messenger details are in my account so HMU if you have theories, advice or just want to talk. Enjoy the chapter, KTillBillie.
Chapter 2 – New and Uncertain Paths?
The sun was still hovering moderately high on the horizon, begrudgingly sprinkling what little heat kept him from freezing to death in the chilling winds sweeping the rocky and rolling terrain. Regardless he trudged lightly on, looking for some form of shelter or warmth for the night, which was crawling closer in with each movement he made. He had been making his lumbering way towards what looked like a felled Fiend on a mound atop a hill; a Fiend's blood had tainted the air, spreading it's scent far and wide. He had smelt it the second he had surmounted the hill covering what he decided to dub: 'The Screaming Cave'.
By the time he had reached the final climb of the ridge the sun had dwindled midway below the glowing horizon and the blazing stench of the Fiend had begun to worry him. Ghouls and other various necrophages are drawn to a corpse and with naught but a curved steel blade he had little to no practise with he didn't fancy his odds. An inferno of stench almost blew him back as he grew closer to the row boat sized corpse. Despite this he drew closer and began to search for a point to begin skinning; the Fiend had but a stump remaining for a head, a flicker of crimson trickled and spat from the still fresh but festering wound. "The work of the company no doubt" he thought judging the age of the wound and their arrival and finding that they seemed to match up. "Oh well, it's a start…" he spoke aloud and plunged the blade into the stump beginning to skin a cloak - made from fabric known for its incredible heating properties - Fiend fur. Each cut was met with a jet of blood and simmer of fumes, no doubt reeling in what little necrophages hadn't already caught wind of the alluring aroma. A mere few moments later he stood back admiring his new, smelly, but warm cloak to put the spring back in his stride. Almost immediately after he briskly left the bottom of the hill he heard the howl of Ghouls and hiss of Foglets attempting to gain control over the 'fresh' meal left out and skinned of all the irritating fur.
Swiftly, but still minding his footing, he wandered on towards the pulsating glow and silhouette of what, without mistaking, was a small fishing village.
As dusk turned to night the final embers of the burning boat carried their lost co-worker, lackey and friend back into nature where her body would once more be joined with mother nature. Behind a jagged and dented visor a grunt of acknowledgement could be heard: a final farewell from a stoic acquaintance. "Any tracks?" growled a rugged voice from beneath the helm.
"Nuffing..." replied a more shrill and mocking voice, throwing back his hood to reveal a rather small but pointed complexion with a small scar on the left of his nose and chip on his back right molar and incisor giving a whistle to many of his improper wordings. He had a slender and lanky form allowing him to be quick and give surprising reach to his bladed pole he loved dearer than even the now lifeless body drifting to the ocean floor to be devoured by Drowners and Ekhidnas.
"Of course there's nothing!" a woman spoke up with a raised voice, her pouch at her side still vibrating. "This isn't just any old man-hunt: this is the Man-Hunt…" she lowered her voice to an ominous singular-tone "He may not know it but this is the most important hunt we'll ever have on our hands, that's why we brought her along." She shunted her head to the still smouldering ruins "She knew him, she said we could do this differently. And god-damn-it I believed her!" she began to ramble with an ever-increasing voice.
"Shut it." came a strong and enunciated Koverian voice, drawing attention to his kneeling form atop his small dimeritium cage. His flowing robes stretched to the bottom of his cage and further across the ground: it was parted, revealing an assortment of small throwing-knives coating the insides. "He is indeed dangerous but he's worth it alive." The strong voice attempted to finalise before being countered yet again by the distraught slender woman.
"You didn't know Shn like I did…" she murmured, realising what she had said the second it left her lips.
"Do not lecture me on how close you were to Shn'cro, Amar. You tread a perilous path as it is attempting to convince a group of people to murder an old friend to some and sizeable profit to the others" he added looking at the slang talking Nacraz and heavily armoured Zarcan brothers. "He is to be kept alive, for all our sake. That man could very well be our last chance after we buggered the first one all those years ago" he shot to Amar, now sulking in the corner, muttering curses to herself after her improper outburst.
The howls of necrophages filled the air and Cht'kra sniffed. "The air is thick, we will travel at mid-day tomorrow, that will be ample time for you to get our convoy on it's way back to Vizima, am I correct?" he questioned, still sternly towards the now silent sorceress; Cht'kra was met with a nod from Amar, giving him sufficient information as to their new destination and goal. "Our job has just become a whole lot harder," he addressed the group, "We will return and report lest our employer become restless… I heard ever since that Djinn released it's hold on her, that heart was as black as the hair she waves so incessantly" he finished more to himself than anyone else, none the less earning a disgruntled and distasteful look from Amar. "Rest now. Have a long day ahead, you'll need the lie-in we'll have." So rest they did; the smell of bloods mixed and dampened the air: Fiend, Bruxa and the blood of new conflict masked by the boiled gore of a friend fallen to tragedy yet to be unmasked by most.
BOOM. Names and possible agendas appearing here! I think many of you can guess the employer at this point but what are their significance and how do they know him? All will be answered in later chapters and may be even stories to come, throughout this chapter i was planning out the meeting of a certain pair of characters who will no doubt throw some shit at the fan later on. Hope you all enjoyed and like the OC's that are in here (have fun learning their names) they all have their own backstory but some are more important than others as you can imagine from what they were saying. I can't wait for the next chapter to be out and i hope all of you can't either. Updating soon - KTillBillie.