Chronicles of Espiria Season 1
Episode 11 - The Bounty Hunters
Written by The Dude and Grizzly
The two figures stood before a magnificent house in the middle of the forest, taking in the seeming waste of artistic merit in a place that no one would ever see.
"He calls this a hunting cabin, Fawkes." the woman said. "A hunting 'cabin'."
"Standards of the rich, Raine." Fawkes answered. "What're ya gonna do?"
"Twenty gold says he brought his valet with him." Raine said with a smirk.
"Fifty says he brought a cook too." Fawkes added. "No way he could cook the meat from his kills himself."
"I'll take that." Raine accepted. "More likely he has his valet stuff his kills and wastes the meat."
They shook on it, then knocked on the door. Moments later, the door was answered by a valet.
"Ah, the master has been waiting for you."
Raine nudged Fawkes with her elbow as they followed the valet inside. They were led through several large and luxuriously furnished rooms, each with a painting of some ancestor or other hung prominently over a bar, until reaching a room occupied by a man in obviously unused hunting garb smoking a very well used pipe.
"Pardon the intrusion, sir, but the lady and gentleman you summoned have arrived." the valet said.
"Thank you, Benson." the man said as he stood up. "I would like some privacy with my guests."
"Very good sir." Benson said as he took his leave. Once Benson was gone, the man turned to face Fawkes and Raine with a big smile and prominent mustache that made his face look rather like a coat rack.
"Ah, Fawkes and Raine, the Defeat and Denier of Death, the greatest bounty hunters in all Espiria!"
"Jeffrey Augustin, the biggest brown noser this side of the Scorched Expanse." Fawkes replied, not accepting Jeffrey's outstretched hand.
Jeffrey laughed heartily at this insult. "I see your reputation for biting wit is well earned. But I suppose you are eager for me to, I believe you say, cut to the chase. Have a seat, please."
Fawkes and Raine sat on the couch opposite Jeffrey's recliner. Neither felt particularly comfortable in the overly fluffy cushions.
"The task I ask of you is quite simple. A friend of mine has procured some precious cargo that I intend to transport here for safekeeping. I would like to hire your assistance in transporting and protecting that cargo."
"That's a merc job." Raine answered. "We're bounty hunters."
"I am aware of that, but I am also aware that you are the best at what you do. With you leading the guards that I have hired, I have no doubt that my cargo will reach me unharmed. Besides, if anyone is foolish enough to attack you, you can turn the thieves over to the authorities for a bounty, I'm sure."
"Unless there's no bounty on his head." Fawkes retorted. "The king has to put a bounty on someone's head before we can try to collect it."
"Otherwise, we'd be assassins." Raine continued.
"Of course," Jeffrey acknowledged. "Still, you will receive your pay for protecting the cargo whether you are attacked or not. So, what would it cost to acquire your services?"
"Probably more than you can afford." Fawkes answered.
"Ah, but you underestimate my wealth and the value of this cargo." Jeffrey said with a big smile. "I assure you, money is no object."
Fawkes and Raine exchanged glances as they considered the offer.
"What's the cargo?" Fawkes asked.
"I would prefer to keep that detail between my friend and I; the fewer people who know about it, the easier it should be to transport. All you need to know is that it is fragile, so it must be handled with care."
Fawkes and Raine exchanged glances again. "We could use the gold." Raine whispered.
"All right." Fawkes decided. "We'll need a path and a list of everyone we're ridin' with. Any surprises, and the price goes up."
"Excellent! Benson will see to your needs. Thank you, my friends."
Jeffrey abruptly left the room by another door, leaving Fawkes and Raine alone.
Later that night, they were in one of the bedrooms of the cabin, going over the details of Jeffrey's plan. One name on the list of mercenaries caught Fawkes' attention.
"Aw, ####!"
"What?" Raine asked, surprised.
"Look who's at the top of the list!"
Fawkes handed the list to Raine. One name caught her attention.
"Aw, ####! Mirael?! To guard fragile cargo?! Is this guy insane?!"
"Logic of the rich." Fawkes answered. "A big name must mean she's trustworthy."
"I want a raise if I have to work with her again!" Raine insisted.
"He did say money was no object," Fawkes pointed out, "and if she's comin', it won't be much more than ash. Anyway, you better get some shut eye; we got a lot to do tomorrow."
"Hang on, it's your turn to sleep." Raine objected.
Fawkes thought for a moment. "You're right."
Fawkes lay down on the hard floor, falling asleep almost instantly. Soon after, his left hand began to glow an otherworldly blue. Raine took Fawkes' hand and held it close to her; the glow faded, but did not vanish entirely.
"I'm right here, Fawkes." she said as a tear formed at her eye.
A few days later, Fawkes and Raine arrived at the summer 'cabin' of the Lanward family, where Jeffrey's friend Alistair Lanward temporarily resided. In the front drive of the house they found a cart with several wooden crates, one of them empty per Fawkes' request. The carts were surrounded by several unsavory-looking mercenaries, all of whom were watching a woman with fiery red hair clad in a black dress and an absurdly large hat. The woman, Mirael, was dancing with a flaming specter that looked uncomfortably like Fawkes. Raine unclipped the straps keeping her pistols in her holsters.
"Let me handle it." Fawkes told her before she could draw.
Fawkes readied the crossbow that was slung over his back and fired a bolt through the flaming effigy of himself. This distracted the pyromancer enough that the specter dissolved into a pile of flame at her feet. She looked annoyed until she saw who it was that fired the bolt; then she looked disconcertingly happy.
"Fawkes! Glad to see you're joining us, though I bet not as glad as you are to see me."
"You can shut your face, tramp!" Raine shouted.
"What? I'm just being friendly." Mirael responded, a totally innocent look on her face.
"Look, I don't want trouble." Fawkes said, putting himself between Raine and Mirael. "I just wanna get this stuff moved so we can get paid n' move on with our lives. Raine, Mirael, try to make nice 'til we finish."
Raine and Mirael tried to stare each other down. No one noticed Alistair come out of the house to greet them.
"Welcome, my friends!" Alistair shouted jovially. "I see you've already introduced yourselves, so I think we can dispense with the pleasantries and skip straight to business. Your task is to follow the cart and ensure that nothing bad happens to these crates or their contents. You will be paid on arrival at Jeffrey's cabin, on the condition that the cargo is unharmed. If all goes well, the trip will prove uneventful and you will be paid for nothing more than a pleasant ride through the countryside. If, however, you are beset by thieves, know that if any harm comes to these crates and especially their contents, you will not be paid."
"Can we go yet?" Mirael asked. "We're burning daylight."
"Very well, I yield to your expertise on burning things!"
Alistair laughed for an uncomfortably long time at his own joke before giving the signal to take the cart. He saw them off with a wave, then returned inside, still laughing like an idiot.
The trip was mostly uneventful, aside from the occasional need to fill a hole or smooth a bump to ensure a smooth ride for the fragile cargo. That's not to say that nothing happened; around noonday of the second day, Mirael guided her horse next to Fawkes' while Raine was busy scouting ahead.
"That's not a new hat, is it?" she opened.
"Do you want Raine to shoot you?" Fawkes responded.
"I'm a fire mage; I can melt anything she throws at me before it hits me. Besides, if she's afraid of me stealing you..."
Fawkes shot her a steely look as a warning to end the conversation. Thankfully, she complied.
That night, Fawkes set two of the mercenaries as watchmen so that the others could sleep. Fawkes sat in the cart with his back to the crates, watching the forest for any sign of movement, while Raine leaned against his shoulder, fast asleep. Mirael sat down on the edge of the cart, careful not to wake Raine. She observed Fawkes' arm around Raine's waist, as well as Raine's contented look as she slept.
"I guess I underestimated how much she likes you." she whispered.
Fawkes just grunted in the affirmative.
"I didn't want to hurt either of you. I just thought you two were more like brother and sister, so she wouldn't mind if..."
"You read that one wrong." Fawkes commented.
"I'm curious though; why let me work with you guys in the first place if you two were..."
"We saw your potential as a member of the team. You handled yourself well against that Vaughur when everyone else was ####in' themselves. That and you never know when access to fire magic'll come in handy, and it seemed like a no-brainer. Then you started gettin' a little too friendly with me, even after I told you to back off. We had no choice."
Fawkes' hand started to glow faintly. Fawkes closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, and the glow faded again.
"You should call it a night." Fawkes advised. "We got a long day of doing nothin' tomorrow."
"Alright." she consented. "Later on, can I ask about that hand? I never did find out what was up with it."
"First chance we get."
Mirael slipped away silently, leaving Fawkes to his watch.
The next morning was as uneventful as the last few. Fawkes estimated, based on how much ground they had covered already, that they would arrive at Jeffrey's cabin just before sundown that day.
"We keep this pace up, we should get this over with before the end of the day." Fawkes said to Raine after they were on their way.
"I can't believe how easy this job has been." Raine commented. "Especially with Mirael here."
"Maybe the big crowd deterred bandits" Fawkes theorized, "or they figured Mirael'd burn the cargo before they could steal it. Either way, I ain't complainin'."
Around noon, Mirael pulled up next to Raine, who bristled at the very sight of her.
"I was talking to Fawkes last night, and I need to apologize for the way I acted when we were working together. I had no idea you liked him like that; I thought you were like his sister. But I still should've asked if it was okay, and..."
"Hang on a sec. Raine, can you scout ahead?"
"What, now?" Raine asked. "I like where this is going."
"I got a funny feelin'." Fawkes said, his tone deathly serious.
Raine's look of annoyance melted into concern as she nodded and rode ahead.
"What was that all about?" Mirael asked, still annoyed.
"Listen." Fawkes said as he closed his eyes.
Mirael looked around, trying to see what he was talking about. After a few moments, Fawkes heard the subtle sound of small metal gears clacking; the hammer of a gun being pulled back.
"Get down!" he shouted.
He and Mirael jumped off their horses just in time to avoid a hail of gunshots from the foliage. Many of the mercenaries were killed instantly. Fawkes fired his crossbow in the direction that he thought one of the shots came from; a yelp of pain from the foliage told him that he'd found his target.
"Mirael, burn 'em out!" he shouted.
Mirael stepped from behind her horse and threw several fireballs into the brush, setting that entire side of the road ablaze. Three men ran out of the inferno, two on fire themselves. The third was grabbed by Fawkes and tossed into the empty crate on the cart, trapping him inside. Another volley from the opposite side of the road finished off the rest of the mercenaries. Mirael was ready to throw more fireballs at these new attackers when she heard a series of smaller caliber gunshots that Fawkes recognized as Raine's pistols; she had flanked their attackers and gunned them down from behind. After a few moments, all shots fell silent.
"Raine, you take any prisoners?" Fawkes shouted.
"I didn't know you wanted me to." Raine shouted back as she made her way back to the cart. "Sorry."
"We'll live. Mirael, grab that guy I tossed in the cart."
Mirael climbed up into the cart and found that the empty crate had its lid on. She wondered how Fawkes did that, but decided that it was better for now to just bring the prisoner to Fawkes for questioning.
"Who sent ya?" he asked as he pressed the man against the cart.
"You may as well kill me now, bounty hunters." the man said. "Nothing you could do to me could be worse than what he'll do to me if I talk."
"That sound like a challenge to you, Raine?" Fawkes asked.
"Sounded like it to me. What about you, Mirael?"
"Sounded like it to me." Mirael answered as she snapped a small fire on in her hand.
What none of them noticed was that, while they were talking, the man pulled a pistol of his own from his hip. As the interrogation was about to resume, the man shoved the pistol into Fawkes' gut and fired.
"Fawkes!" Raine shouted.
Fawkes winced at the mortal wound and grabbed the side of the cart for support, but never took his eyes off his quarry.
"That how ya wanna play this? Fine, we'll play it your way."
Fawkes grabbed the man by the throat with his left hand and closed his eyes as his hand began to glow. Soon, the bullet in Fawkes' gut was pushed out of the rapidly closing wound. At the same time, the prisoner screamed in agony as he began to rapidly decompose before the eyes of Raine and Mirael. When it was all over, only the man's legs were left intact, while Fawkes had only a small scar to show for his injury. Without another word, Fawkes climbed up on the cart to rest.
"What just happened?" Mirael asked, staring at what was left of the assassin.
Raine didn't answer; she just climbed up after Fawkes and took his left hand in hers.
"Are you okay?"
"I'll be fine." Fawkes answered weakly. "Go check the other bodies, see if you can figure out who they were."
Raine kissed Fawkes' hand, then reluctantly left to check on the bodies. Mirael climbed up on the cart intending to get answers for the flood of questions she suddenly had, but was distracted when a splintered piece of wood slashed her leg open. She cried out in pain as she fell.
"What happened?" Fawkes said, suddenly looking around for more assassins.
"It's just my leg. Idiot me, I walked right into a sharp piece of wood. Hang on a sec."
Mirael put her hand on her wound and cauterized it. She did not cry out this time; she was quite used to burns, even finding them comforting on some level. She was unsteady as she stood back up, but she was no longer bleeding. This was when Fawkes and Mirael noticed what cut her; the lid of one of the crates had been damaged in the attack. Mirael was disappointed by what she found inside.
"Sand? We've been risking our lives for sand?!"
Fawkes got up and examined the contents, scooping up some of the sand and letting it run through his fingers. His eyes grew stern.
"It's not sand. It's powderized human bone."
Mirael jumped back and started brushing her dress, suddenly feeling dirty.
"Why are we guarding boxes of crunched-up human bone? And why are you still touching it?!" Mirael asked as Fawkes dug deeper into the bone.
"This is why." Fawkes replied as he pulled a jar filled with a red fluid out of the bone.
"Please tell me that's not human blood!" Mirael said squeamishly.
"Maybe, maybe not." Fawkes said as he turned the jar in his hands. "Human blood's hard to transport without drawin' the attention of the authorities. It's easier to kill someone and drain it fresh, then burn the body. This is probably animal blood, a cow or a goat or somethin'. I bet if we searched through this crate some more, we'd find some animal organs."
Raine returned with a concerned look on her face. "No personal identification, but they all wore cloaks with the crest of the Bloody Priesthood."
"The what?" Mirael asked, even more squeamish.
"The Bloody Priesthood is a necromancy cult operating in Lightbearer territory." Fawkes explained. "There's a branch up in Ranhorn, and we've always suspected there was one down here too; we just never found proof until today."
"Mirael, could you make sure the bodies can't be resurrected by the cult leaders?" Raine asked.
"No problem; maybe setting a few fires will help me fight the heebee jeebees."
Mirael jumped off the cart and headed for Raine's kills. Raine, meanwhile, looked at the contents of the crate.
"Human bone?"
"Yep."
"Animal blood?"
"Most likely."
"So what you think they wanna raise with all this?" Raine asked.
Fawkes thought for a moment. "Could be nothin' special. There's a lot here, but they could've just wanted it for their regular rituals. Either way, we gotta talk to Augustin. Secrets are one thing, but this is...yikes."
"Is Mirael coming?" Rained asked, hopeful the answer was no.
"That's her call. Those assassins tried to kill her the same as us, and for the same thing; she can tag along if she wants so long as she follows our lead."
Once Mirael returned, seeming to feel better after having burned something, the three continued to Jeffrey Augustin's cabin. When they arrived as the sun was beginning to set, Jeffrey was waiting for them; he waved his arms enthusiastically from his porch before descending the steps to greet the three of them.
"You arrived sooner than I expected," Jeffrey said as he looked around. "And in fewer numbers. Please, come in for a drink and tell me about your journey. Benson will see to the cargo."
Mirael grabbed Jeffrey by the collar of his shirt and slammed him against the wooden pillar of his porch stairs. "Why are we transporting necromancy supplies?" she asked in the calmest voice she could muster.
"I...I beg your pardon?" Jeffrey asked.
"The crates are full of contraband that can only be used in rituals for summoning the dead, possibly something worse." Fawkes answered.
"We need to know why you wanted necromancy supplies before we lose control of Mirael." Raine finished.
"They are not meant for necromancy, I swear!"
"Don't give me that horse####!" Fawkes shouted. "We were huntin' Graveborn when you were still in diapers! We know what human bone looks like when it's powdered, and we know that it has no use outside cultic rituals banned in Lightbearer territory! Now tell us why you want it!"
"I am fire incarnate!" Mirael said in a slightly unstable tone. Drawing Jeffrey's face inches from her own, she continued, "And I'm hungry!"
"All right, all right!" Jeffrey shouted. "Let me go, and I'll explain everything!"
Fawkes nodded to Mirael, and she released Jeffrey. He took a moment to straighten his muffed up clothes, then led the three back into the house. They were led into the room in which Fawkes and Raine first met Jeffrey, then through a door they hadn't noticed before, which led into a basement. At the bottom of the basement stairs, on the other side of the basement, Fawkes and Raine noticed a small shrine with a small wooden statue of a monster on top.
"Do you know what this is?" Mirael asked, not really wanting the answer.
"It's an altar." Fawkes said. "Dedicated to a Hypogean."
"I admit that I am no saint," Jeffrey began. "I have probably given my poor sister more than her fair share of grief over my lifestyle, especially after her ordination as a priestess. But even I was shocked to find this wretched thing down here."
"So it's not yours?" Raine asked.
"Certainly not. I may engage in certain...pastimes that I have to confess at the temple, but I am no practitioner of the dark arts."
"Then how'd it get here?" Fawkes asked.
"I have my theories." Jeffrey said as he stroked his mustache nervously. "Are you familiar with a man known commonly as the Mannered Knife?"
"I remember hearing about him." Mirael said. "He's a serial killer whose victims are all nobility. No one has ever caught him in the act because his victims always look like they've just fallen asleep. I haven't heard about him for a few months now."
"There is a reason for that." Jeffrey responded. "As it happens, the Mannered Knife was once the personal valet of Lord Lanward, the father of Alistair Lanward. When his identity was revealed, he fled from the Lanward estate and went into hiding. I had heard rumors that he had used this cabin as a vacation home on more than one occasion, so I came to search for clues as to his current whereabouts. That was when I found this altar."
"So explain the body parts in the crates." Fawkes said.
"Those I ordered on the advice of a friend of mine. As you know, if the church found out about this altar, they would burn the house down and interrogate me. Or interrogate me and burn the house down with me inside. Either way, my poor, innocent sister would be interrogated next, and priests under suspicion are more often burned for heresy than the common man. I thought it better to leave the church out of this, so I sought the advice of a learned friend of mine who is familiar with Mauler Voodoo. He told me to procure those supplies and he would be able to use them to cleanse the cabin of any curses that might be on it."
"He's lying to ya." Fawkes said bluntly. "I may not be up on Mauler magic, but I know my demonology. Necromancers use that stuff for all kinds of spells, from their fake 'resurrection' to straight up murder. In the hands of a demon worshiper, that stuff could summon up whatever monster that altar was built for. You want my advice? Burn that cart 'n everything on it, then call your sister and have her get rid of this thing privately; it'll be a nice bondin' exercise for ya. If ya gotta burn this cabin to the ground, so be it; just destroy this altar and everything it's corrupted. You do not mess around with this ####."
Jeffrey was silent as he considered Fawkes' advice.
"Very well, I will summon Belinda immediately. But what of the Mannered Knife? If he should return..."
"Leave him to us." Raine said. "If he built that thing, we'll find him and end him."
"All right." Jeffrey gave the three a polite bow. "Farewell, my friends, and Dura be with you."
Jeffrey escorted the three to the exit himself. Once out of earshot, they discussed their next course of action.
"Maybe it's just me," Mirael began, "but did his story seem off to you?"
"Maybe." Fawkes agreed. "If he has a priest in the family, it seems weird that he wouldn't call her first, but he could also just be that stupid."
"So what do we do?" Raine asked.
"We need to check out his story, and that means finding people to corroborate it." Fawkes answered. "Raine, I want you to go to Oakenfell. I heard one of Lady Oakenfell's servants used to work for the Lanwards; he might be able to tell you more about the Mannered Knife. Mirael and I are gonna visit Alistair Lanward; if he's smugglin' necromancy supplies, he's gotta know more than anyone's lettin' on."
Raine pulled Fawkes aside and spoke in hushed tones. "You're taking Mirael with you? I don't trust her."
"Neither do I. That's why she's going with me, so I can keep an eye on her. Besides, I trust you to get the information I need from Oakenfell a lot more than Mirael."
"But what about your hand?" Raine asked as she glanced at his hand. "You haven't slept in two days."
"I'll be alright for a few days more." Fawkes answered. "Just hurry back."
Raine hugged Fawkes, then mounted her horse and rode north. Once she was out of sight, Fawkes turned to Mirael and asked, "Mirael, would you like to do the honors?"
Mirael just grinned, then blew a kiss at the cart full of bone and organs, which became a stream of fire that set the cart ablaze almost instantly. She and Fawkes watched the cart and its contents burn for a moment, then mounted their horses and rode east toward the cabin of Alistair Lanward.