Chapter 16: A Questionable Contract

A pitch-black beak tore at a piece of carrion. Once freed it tilted its head back and swallowed the chunk of rotting flesh down its gullet. A snap of a twig startled the creature to the presence of two adventurers looking at its ghastly meal with disgust.

The sight and smell alone made Hastur vomit her breakfast. The half-elf had seen many gruesome accidents come her way in the infirmary, but this. This was something entirely else. The noose around the man's neck twist and creaked as he swung in the air. A heavy gust of wind would make him twist more so the carnage carved on his back could be seen for all who happen to pass by can see. And for carrion feeders to take their fill of the cadaver. Just below him, sat a large pool of earth blackened with blood.

While the cleric was expelling her stomach, Thaelin pursed his lips and cursed under his breath.

"Fucking hell…" he said pacing around in a circle. Not much ever tugged at his heart before, but an atrocity like this was something that sickened his core terribly.

"What… what the hells is that." Hastur paused to wipe the bile from her lips.

"No clue." he said twirling out his pistol crossbow and shooting the rope.

The corpse collapsed to the dirt in a squishy thud. The way he landed, made the abomination carved on his back visible for the two to see. The hanging man's back was sliced open in the shape of a 'T'. The skin was peeled away, looking like 'wings' with two greyish-purple fleshy sacks protruding from a carved opening in the muscle. A small metallic object located in the center of the man's stomach, glistened in the afternoon sun

"By the gods!" Gasped Hastur covering her mouth with the edge of her cloak. She took a small step forward and leaned to investigate the scene. The smell of rot was terribly overpowering.

"Those are his ribs." She said holding back a dry-heave. "Oh god! And those 'sacks' are his lungs!" the little elf had to quickly step away and vomit once more. "They broke his rib bones and pulled his ribs out his back! Who would do such a thing to someone?"

Hastur choked as the last of her breakfast made its way to the ground before her. There was one feature on the body that concerned her the most. Ligature marks on his dangling arms. That sign, combined with the carnage on his back, had showed a painful truth. The victim was tortured.

Theelin pursed his lips when he looked over the body and witnessed every gruesome piece of evidence when he looked over the corpse.

"When we go collect our bounty, we had better be getting paid double for dealing with this shit."

"Agreed." Hastur gasped between dry heaves.

Trying to keep his stomach from heaving forth, he leaned in close and wrenched the object from its bloated sheath. A foul smell of what was left undigested in the man's stomach seeped forth.

The ranger shook away the blood from the object and wiped away the remaining blood in the grass.

"Well…that's not good." The man said mouthing a curse word before pursing his lips and looking to the trees surrounding him.

Hastur glanced over at the man through her watery eyes. Her stomach still queasy from the expulsion. She recognized the little blade instantly. Clenched in the ranger's hand was a stag handled knife decorated with a copper spiral of coiled wire inlays along the pommel and guard. The crossguard itself featured copper petals resembling a lotus flower. Without a doubt, she knew the style of dagger. Elven by design.

The two followed the winding road to the Northeast of the Hold. The trees of the Hold grew larger and wider the further they got. A lumbermill would thrive in these parts, but at the same time such a business would be under threat against the rough habitat, fauna, and the politics of Hayaks strict decree towards

As she walked with her head low, she stumbled into Thaelin's back who was standing dead in his tracks.

"S-sorry…" she blurted before taking a staggering step back. The towering man reached towards his sword and bollock dagger. Thaelin just stood there, his head pointed up into the green canopy above him. His trained eyes scanned every limb trying to find something.

"What is it? Is something there?" the mage whispered.

"Yeah…" he said drawing out his short sword. "Okay, you can come on out! You suck at hiding!"

Hastur tried to look around her but to no avail. Even though her elven heritage has increased her senses to greater than the common man, she was still far less gifted than a trained ranger like her partner. She instinctively placed a hand on the hilt of her rapier and tried to hide herself behind the man's bigger stature.

The mass of overgrowth trees distorted all sound. If a bird chirped its song, the forest made the sound come from a different direction. Little tricks like these could be used, by its natives and those acclimated to the region, to well an effect for hunting and stalking prey. To the northeast of the road, came a rustling of large ferns and tall grasses along the forest floor.

"Are you the ranger we sent for?" came a voice from somewhere.

"No, I'm some other ranger hired by a bunch of hicks to come out to the middle of nowhere. What do you think?" retorted Thaelin

From the dense woods, came a beast of a man. An archer, judging by his bow, with a grizzled beard wearing a long coat made of animal furs. His cheeks, and eyes shadowed by charcoal dust.

"A mouthy fucker, aint ya? Ya Must be that Thaelin we heard of." What took ya? We sent out that notice days ago."

"Well it takes time to get to here from the city." Thaelin muttered sheathing his short sword. "So… Point us towards the damsel in distress or whatever."

"Us? What are you talking about? There's only the two of us here?" grumbled the mountain man.

Without a word, Thaelin took a step to the left to unveil his partner hiding behind him. The mountain man looked the little lady over quick and muttered a rather insulting observation "Yer friend is kinda short."

"Eh, she don't take up much room, besides. She's actually useful once in a while." Theelin put with a sarcastic smirk.

"Yeah, I pull most of the weight around here." Hastur retorted "Lets go." She sighed heading towards the mountain man.

Hastur swatted at a mosquito as she and the two woodsmen exited the pathway and took to the narrow game trail that brought the duo to a small camp nested in the edge of Hayak's Northeaster border to the wilds of Shaan Rulfet forest. The smell of campfire smoke was rather heavy in the air. A total of 20 or so men were working in the camp. Hammers pounded nails into wood planks and sawhorses suspended long newly ripped lumber planks that looked to stretch thirty feet of more.

In the middle of the camp was a large communal campfire. Iron cookpots made large vats of hearty stew and a large boar was skewered on a spike. Its meat sizzling the fat away and muscle made tender. Every time a dripping of the fat was cooked off, it dripped into the hot coals and a small flame flared up. The scent of the boar made Thaelin want to tear off a piece of meat and join in with the meal.

Hastur and Thaelin were brought to a long trestle table where the boss of the lumber camp, a fat man with greasy hair and smelled strongly of smoke, ate next to his laborers. The fat man wiped his dirty hands on his trousers before wiping his lips with his shirt sleeve. His lips smacked as he chew a piece of the roasted boar.

"Right then, is he the ranger?" grunted the pig of a man as he stepped away from the dining table.

Rather than hear another stupid remark, Hastur stepped forward and spoke for the man. "Yes. We caught your Notice in Hayak about a problem. That's Thaelin and I'm Hastur, sir. How can we help?"

"We sent fer one of our men to guide you here on the Old Road. You meet him? Where is he?"

Hastur pursed her lips and glanced over to Thaelin who let out a sigh before retrieving the small knife he found.

"Oh yeah, we meet him." He said handing the fat man the dagger, hilt first.

The fat man looked at the knife for a second and then slammed the blade into the table.

"Bastards!" he hollered "Those damn bastards killed Robert!" the lumber boss outstretched his arm and swiped his area clean. Sending trenchers, bowls and scraps off into the dirt. "Ya want to help us, missy? Start by killin' those fookin elves."

Hastur, nervously blinked when she heard those words "…e-excuse me?"

"Thems pointy-eared tree dwellers! I want em dead! Ya hear me? All dead! Bastards been fighting my men fer a good fortnight. How'd ya find him? Lyin' in a ditch was he?"

"He was hanged…" the mage struggled to say the rest of the words "..and his back was cut terribly."

This news set the boss's face to glow bright red with rage

"Fuck! Those fuckers put a Blood Eagle to his back didn't they? Those evil whoresons. I wont rest till them twiggers are all dead! DEAD! Ya hear me?"

Thaelin pat Hastur on the shoulder. He could see the cleric starting to get flustered from under her hood. He scratched at his beard and took a swaggering step towards the table. The ranger snatched a morsel of a boar shank from a trencher and spoke as he ate.

"Do you know…where we are?" He said between bites

"Aye, the forest. Keen observation, boy." Snorted the fat man as he gave the man a watchful eye on him.

"I'm not too good with maps, but even I know." He said pointing to the North with a greasy finger "That over there, is elf territory. You put your camp pretty damn close to their border. To be truthful I can't really blame them. I mean-"

The fat man's eyes narrowed onto the ranger "What's this? Are you an elf lover, are ya?"

"No, I mean, I may have fucked an elf once or twice, but I'm just saying-."

"Sayin'? Follow me. You should see what 'I'm sayin'." The leader said taking the two to a series of tents close to the eastern edge of the camp

"This is what them bastards have been doing to us honest men." He said raising a curtain to reveal a makeshift hospital. The smell of body odor and blood wafted out of the lodge tent. The groans of the injured were painfilled. Rough and tumble men so hurt they were muttering for help from their mothers.

As she suspected, Hastur noticed the women of the camp were acting as nurses to tend to the injured men. On the ground she saw a pile of broken barbed arrows that were most likely pulled from the workmen's limbs. It was sickening to say the least.

From then, the fat man and Thaelin went off to discuss their job and the warning sign they stumbled upon earlier. Hastur stayed back to walk through the camp, as to better understand the lumber men. As a safe measure she tugged at her hood and made sure her ears were well hidden underneath.

During her walk through the camp she overhead the same conversations be spoken amongst the old and young when they sat and sharpened their axes:

"Oi! What I wouldn't do to put this here ave in a dagger-ear's head."

"Aye. My family has lived in this hold since me father was but a lad. I've got as much of a right to this land as they do."

"Hey Tommon! You fought elves back in the day. What's it like?"

"Is like fellin an oak. One good strike to the side, and it'll crash before yer feet." an old man chuckled.

The men at work squared up the fresh cut logs into uniformed beams, ready to be cut into planks, dried, and then put to use building the many uses the men needed. Towards the north of the communal fire pit, the ground was marked with ropes and stones to mark out the foundations of where their first cabin would be raised.

They were just as she thought, good men. Honest men, trying to earn their own.

As much as she hated the insulting words among the men, she felt compelled to take their side. These were indeed hardworking. Toiling tirelessly for a living in a dangerous land. Being harassed by their neighbors to the North for just trying to live. The idea of fighting her kin was troubling, but they had a job. Just like the men in the woods. And a job must be done.