Two demihumans tread carefully through the forest. One toadman, one lizardman. Under normal circumstances, these two would have rather fought each other to the death rather than work together. However, recent circumstances have brought these two individuals just close enough that they have yet to draw their ire upon each other. At least, they have yet to today.
These two particular demihumans only hold their weapons back because they share one thing in common. That one thing being? A human. A human who, despite all of his oddities, seems to not care that there are significant differences between the three. And as they hunted today, with the purpose of chasing tracks that the lizard man spotted the day before, both of them began to have a conversation.
"I think he's crazy," Todone quipped.
It took a moment for the old lizard to get what he meant by that, but eventually it registered and he couldn't help but chuckle before giving a single one-word response.
"Perhaps".
"No, truly," The toadman continues. "He speaks of freedom and justice, openly shares knowledge, offers aid to anyone he meets without discrimination, puts himself between two enemy tribe members on the brink of fighting, and to top it all off he mutters to himself constantly. That doesn't sound crazy?"
"Does that make him bad?" Zarusosa asks curiously, ducking under a branch.
"Well, no, it's just… I don't know. He's been nothing but patient except when he needs to take action, and he's always thinking of tens of plans every moment we talk and it isn't about us or himself. I just can't think of how to describe it but… he makes me feel hopeful".
Zarusosa chuckled again. "I know what you mean. Seldom have I seen one so young burn so bright, he even puts the curiosity and drive of my own son to shame".
Though the lizardman couldn't see it, Todone flinched at that. "You have a son?"
"Yes, two in fact, and they are the light of my life. Once this mess with our mystery beasts is over, I hope to bring one of their skulls as a trophy and a story to tell them".
There was a brief pause in the conversation, mostly consisting of Todone considering his next question.
"... What are their names?"
The lizardman stopped their footsteps, leaning down to investigate a pair of tracks. "Benimaru and Zaryusu. I believe they are around your age in fact, I'm certain you would have loved to meet them".
Todone is silent, uncertain about how to proceed. Here is a lizardman in front of him, the enemy of his tribe. Someone he would normally want dead. And yet…
"And I'm sure my father would have loved to meet you, if he… hadn't…" He spoke up sullenly, but was unable to finish.
He did not need to however, as Zarusosa grunted in acknowledgement. "You need not speak of it, it does not take a wise man to know what happened. And for what it is worth, I am sorry".
More silence. Eventually, Zarusosa stood back up, and nodded without looking at the toadman. "The tracks indicate that this one is wounded. This should be an easy hunt".
"How can you tell?"
The huntsman looks back to the spearman slowly, and motions to him. "Come, let me show you".
Todone hesitates, unsure of whether or not he should step forward. The old lizard beckons to him again, and he decides to come close as they now both squat down next to the tracks.
"See this?" The old lizard explains, motioning to the hoof prints. "One side of the tracks is more deeply depressed into the soil, while the other side occasionally skips a step. This indicates that it's favoring one side of its legs over the other. At the very least, it may simply be an old wound, but forest predators would normally have picked it off by now".
Todone nodded, muttering a simple "I see" as they both rose back up. They continued their trek for quite some time, content to simply enjoy the sounds of the forest. Eventually however, Zarusosa signals for them both to stop.
"We'll rest here for now. It would do us no good to find our prey only to be worn out".
The both of them sat down, content to bask in the warmth of the summer sun as it's light glittered between the leaves. Unwrapping some smoked bug meat, Todone simply swallows his ration whole as he usually does while Zarusosa opts to nibble on his, savoring the flavor.
"Mmm, say what you will about that human being crazy, I'm impressed he can make even smoked meat taste good," The old hunter muttered with food in his mouth.
"Speaking of," Todone started his question off. "What do you think he is?"
Zarusosa slowed in his chewing, humming in thought. "If you mean by what he was to other humans… I think he may have been a nobleman, or the son of one at least".
"Aren't those the human versions of elders that sleep in large stone huts?"
The old man barked out a crisp laugh, "Ancestors, no! The majority of them are far removed from any sort of wisdom, if what little I have heard of them is true".
"... So like human versions of elders?"
The lizardman laughed again, flakes of meat spitting from his mouth and even Todone couldn't help but laugh. "Ahahahahahaha! My goodness boy, you must get quite the clouting in your village for such a quick wit".
He took a moment to let the laughter remove itself from his system, then sighed contentedly. "Ah, but yes. The reason being is his mentioning of books and writing. Apparently, humans take leaves or the hides of animals and use symbols to record their past. These are what they call 'Books' and 'Scrolls'. Unfortunately, it seems that those with treasure or power can afford to know how to both read these and write them down".
"... which means he used to either have a lot of treasure or a lot of power amongst humans… but that doesn't make any sense. He told me he helped transfer goods for his people, and he often did it by hand…"
Zarusosa hummed at that, pausing before he took another bite of his morsel. "Maybe he was a merchant then? They're like caravans, except they often transfer goods for personal gain rather than for the good of the tribe".
Todone shook his head, thinking back to a line of speech that he has unfortunately misconstrued. "No, that doesn't fully make sense either. He said he was doing it for all of his people".
"Hmmm… I'm somewhat stumped now. I'm not sure where that would place him in human society… who is a person who holds enough power and wealth to be capable of amassing knowledge and wisdom, but still chooses to step down with the common folk and work alongside them?"
It was time for both of them to contemplate the answer to this question. And yet, despite the moment growing longer and longer, neither could seem to find a reliable answer other than one.
"He truly is crazy…" Zarusosa mutters. "... But maybe we need that".
Todone perked up at that. "Excuse me?"
Zarusosa held onto his meat firmly, almost crushing it with an iron grasp. "Think about it, what kind of sane human would suggest the both of us working together? What kind of sane human would share with us the knowledge and means to grow ourselves and provide examples of circumstances as evidence? And yet, we now know how to truly make ourselves stronger to better protect our kinsmen if what he said was true, and you and I both speak with each other more openly with each passing day because of his mere influence… What if all we needed to make the Lake a better place was someone who didn't care about being 'sane'?"
Todone stared at the lizardman, briefly contemplating whether or not he was starting to grow crazy, but the more he stared the more he thought about the actual weight of the situation. It did make sense. Still, he carried some doubts.
The old lizard engulfed his last piece of morsel, chewing it with vigor. "At the very least, I say give him a chance. Crazy or not, he still carries a surprising amount of wisdom and patience for a human".
He swallowed, and leaned back against the foot of a tree with closing eyes. "Though I'm curious, what do you think the human is?"
Todone was brought out of his mental musings before considering the question. "I'm not sure… judging by his skill with the natural magics, I would believe him to be a druid, or perhaps the former acolyte of one… tell me, do you know what 'Summerland' is?"
Zarusosa grunted, uncertain. "I cannot say that I have. Where did you hear that?"
"I heard him mention it briefly once, almost like a prayer when he had taken the life of a deer. It was… different, compared to when we fought against Shearjaws or broiled crayfish. I was merely curious if you knew".
The lizard man made another grunt, one of admittance to not knowing. "Could be a personal belief from his homeland, maybe from his circle of druids if what you think he might be is true. It wouldn't hurt to ask him when we return. Speaking of…"
The lizard man got up to stretch, his tail wagging sluggishly as he did so. "I believe we've enjoyed our little breather. Come, the sooner we catch this prey the sooner we may return".
The toadwoman sighed heavily, staring longingly over the lake's waters. Her hunters had yet to report any sign of her child on the lake, and though such thoughts pained her even a corpse would at least give her closure. She could scarcely concentrate on her training, nor tending to her duties in the village, something which no one dared scold her for out of understanding and respect. She had wished her tribesman could do more, fan out further, but unfortunately the beasts of the lake have grown unusually restless in the past few days.
"Staring at the water won't bring him back, you know," A familiar voice simply commented, making her turn.
Her late husband's brother, Polk. The head druid of the tribe's religious and magical matters, and one of the only magic casters of the toadmen.
"It is not as though I can do much else either. My mind wanders every time I speak with the elders for guidance, forever locked in a haze that never seems to be able to grasp onto their words fully. Even the whelps I've taken to beating in their training grow worried for me, and usually they would sooner fear me. What else is there for me to do, when I know I am unfit to serve in my duties?"
The druid breathed in deeply, coming closer to the woman and sitting next to him on the rocky outcropping as they looked over the horizon together.
"There is not much you can do Julnis, but that is okay. You are a mother first, every other duty should come second to that, especially when your son is missing. There is no shame in taking the time to rest your mind in the face of such a worry".
"Even if it displays my weakness to the other tribes?" The woman lamented.
Polk could do nothing but shake his head at that. "You were the one who helped unite the tribes in the face of the lizardmen and prevented significantly more losses. Were it not for your quick thinking, we would not be anywhere near as prosperous as we are now. I do not believe the other tribe leaders will think anything less of you for your worries".
She shook her head at that with a sigh. "I am not so blind to believe that they would be so kind as you say, but still… I appreciate your words Polk".
The both of them sat in silence after that, content to stare at the deceptively peaceful lake.
The goblin was silent as he made his way through the brush. His band had left him for dead, at the whims of the human. When he returned they were silent at first, shocked that he was alive apparently. Despite being alive and well however, they cast him out, claiming he was 'cursed'. He could only remember feeling pain and betrayal, so much so that no words could leave his mouth. He left, his spear in tow and a canvas blanket to cloak him as he marched. It wasn't until he came across a still pond of water where he saw the jagged disfigurement of his face that he understood why they did so. He looked more similar to an undead than an actual goblin.
The goblin was silent as he marched, occasionally rubbing at the edges of his makeshift cloak as if he expected it to blink out of existence. Why did the human leave him there? Why did he come to with most of his wounds healed and safely hidden within the underbrush, cradled in a shroud that was clearly of human make? Still, silence reigned upon his lips. Of course, such curiosity was why the goblin marched rather than simply let the forest take him body and all.
The goblin was silent, even in the face of predators as he fought them, scarcely more than whispered grunts as he would fight off his would-be attackers with the determination to survive. To find answers, and ask the human why he was spared, even if he felt no strength in his voice to scream out to the ancestors for his predicament.
The goblin was silent. There was nothing he could say, there was nothing to say, for he had to save his words for the one that spared him
They growled gutturally, mind hazed by madness and pain. Some of their bonded brothers, dead and limp, serve only to further remind them of their own failings. And yet, their decaying and ragged corpses fuel them as well, filling them with strength of anger. As the remainders chew on the fly-ridden corpses of the lizard men, one of them takes notice of a scent, flicking its tongue out to retain the odor within its memory. Within their memory. One of the lizardman had escaped, it seems. A loose end, a debt yet to be paid in full for the loss of kin.
The beasts rose as one as the scent-catcher hisses out, giving rise to the sensation of bloodlust in their bones. They all roared as one, screaming to the heavens that their hunt was not yet over. And they moved as one, even dragging the corpses of their rotting brothers along, raw and scraped to the bone against the woody overgrowth they would come to pass, one even coming loose from their grips and woefully left behind as they marched.
They would hunt one final time, before the rot took hold.
AN: Whelp, this one's a tad shorter than the others, but I do plan on making up for it. Hope the change of pace was nice for y'all