Private Tales Said the Hunter to the Merc

[Garrod Arlette]

"You run this sort of job often?" The monster-hunter grumbled his question toward the mercenary he patrolled through the wilds with. "Murdering for petty lords, I mean," he smirked.

And if he were asked in turn, he would tell her true. He wasn't fond of this sort of work. Not that monster hunting was much better, but, fending off fiends and mad beasts seemed to weigh on him a little less than outright murder. Not that it mattered much when a lord sets their traps and catches themselves their quarry.

"Bloody fucking pigs," Garrod grumbled to himself as he recalled the incident in his mind's eye. Set to the tune of cricket songs and bootfalls squelching in wet earth.

There was the crackle of fire. The smell of roasting meats. They had said he was poaching in the lord's woods. He laughed. Told them last he remembered the wylds had no lords. They didn't like that none too much and after a bit of an altercation well, he wound up in the stockade. Prisoner less he accept an offer.

"You hit their logging camps, run out their brush rats, and we call this all even, fancy?" the fat sheriff said with a grease stained smile, his folds crinkled and his small face was almost swallowed up by his swollen features.

So, through the woods he trekked. Armed and armored as he always was. Only, they'd seen fit to strip him of some valuables. His greatsword, gone, and his gauntlet, gone.

"Miserable fucks probably don't expect us to make it back alive," he growled.

 

[Shez Varin]

"Yeah. So what?"

Shez frowned. She was far from being the most friendly and sociable person out there. Which was nothing new when it came to mercenaries, who came in all kinds of shape and color. She would murder for petty lords. She would murder said petty lords. There was a difference in method and circumstances, but at the end of the day, it was all the same.

"Doesn't matter. Someone will hire mercs to kill them too eventually." that's how it worked at times and Shez wasn't even exaggerating. People who played these games usually found themselves killed. Contrary to popular tales, there were no mastermind criminals, genius lords hiding around every corner. The fact that they were successful just meant that everybody else was dumb as fuck.

"Well, just be good enough to get back then. Or be good for fodder at least." she wasn't trying to make friends, that's for sure. That said, she wasn't trying to be way too antagonistic either, it was... just how she worked. "Just out of curiosity, what makes you think that they want us to die?"

Being expendable was nothing new to Shez. Heck, being sent on a suicide mission wasn't new either and she was prepared for the possibility. Her question didn't stem from naivety. She just wanted to know what the other mercenary thought about it.

 

[Garrod Arlette]

Garrod's eye narrowed as he looked back at the mercenary. "Rule of the beasts with you, huh?" he smiled darkly, and laid his hand on the hilt of the arming sword at his side. "Suppose you have the right of it," he pressed on.

"Just a hunch," he admitted. "Most folk don't go taking the equipment of mercenaries they actually want to come back," he added, and glanced over at her again as he paused his march. "They didn't take nothin from you?" he asked, then kept marching. Wouldn't surprise him really. For all he knew, she was the loyal dog to his hunting badger.

"Even then, two mercs to run off a logging operation?" he sucked in air through his teeth. "From what I hear, these lords are constantly at odds with one another. Fighting over every acre they can hold on to," he shook his head. "A logging camp is a pretty investment, fancy? It will like come well guarded, maybe even have some rangers set well before we hit the camp's perimeters."

He rubbed his chin as he crossed the rough terrain. "You any good with a bow?" he asked, half thinking aloud.

 

[Shez Varin]

Rule of the 'fuck everyone else'. Shez shrugged, it didn't matter what she had a right to. It was how she was most of the time and she was unapologetic about it. She raised an eyebrow at the explanation though.

"What the hell are you on about?" or in other words, what kind of a 'contract' did he accept? "Why would they take anything?" also in other words, she had all of her stuff and didn't lose anything just yet. She squinted her eyes as she put the story together. There was only one way that Garrod lost his equipment to the same people who employed him. Retribution. She didn't want to press the issue though. She didn't want to know the reason why, it was enough for her to know that he got fucked over by the people who were supposed to pay her. Shez was well aware of the scummy methods used by employers. She would pay attention to her payment by default, but it was good to have a warning at least.

"Nothing impossible. Even if it's meant to be a token agression. You are not thinking about double-crossing, do you?" even though it would be justifiable if their employer played it dirty, it would also heard her reputation. As ridiculous as that may sound, it mattered a lot for finding better gigs.

"If the target stands still, I can hit it. But don't expect me to pick off moving targets." the bow also fucked up her hands, she was simply not used to that kind of pressure on her fingers. "What do you have in mind?

 

[Garrod Arlette]

Garrod gave the mercenary a long stare from the corner of his eye. "Double crossing?" he smirked, "Why, you interested?" he waggled his brows. "I'm sure if we inform the other side, we'll get a heftier pay," though they were just as likely to get axed after spilling the beans. One could never be too careful when it came with dealing with this type of horrid pile of shit.

He huffed. "Nothing," he admitted, and scanned at the wilds ahead of them. "Just taking stock of what we have at our disposal is all,"

An archer who couldn't hit moving targets wasn't worth much. But he would keep that assessment to himself as he trudged along. "I can start a fire," he added. "Assuming we don't get caught in a screen before we even lay eyes on the logging camp," he grumbled on. "Might pull them in to try and put it out," he could see the chaos in his mind. "Might even run some of the plain old workers off before the killing starts in earnest,"

He could hear his demon's laughter deep within his mind.

 

[Shez Varin]

"Fuck no. More trouble than what it's worth." she frowned. Shez had no clue why her partner was punished by their employer, but she definitely didn't want to get in trouble as well. Things can be quite harsh without playing both sides and hoping that something good comes out of it. Too many unknown variables. That said, if their employer decided to screw them over, which absolutely wouldn't surprise her, then she would repay the favor in kind.

"Uhuh. Just don't get caught." she said, like it was simple as that. Well, it had to be as simple as that, otherwise they wouldn't get back alive. And they wouldn't get their gold either. "You can set fire to the whole ploughing camp if that gets the job done. Let's get moving, so we can check the area..."


The wilds soon changed as they were about to reach the logging camp's area. It wasn't that difficult to see by the amount of trunks appearing in the distance. Wood was in high demand and the lumberjacks were working hard to meet that demand. Shez had a sharp sight and noticed what Garrod most likely realized as well. It was quiet. Damn quiet. No axes chopping, no sentinels overseeing the area. No guards, no rangers. They were either way too good at hiding for the two of them or they were simply absent.

"We should have ran into someone already." she stated the obvious. "The camp is supposed to be further to the east."

Shez stopped to take a glance at the area once again. There were outposts scattered around and the closest to them appeared empty. Something was amiss. "How badly do you want to get your equipment back from the 'boss'?" she asked out of nowhere.

 

[Garrod Arlette]

"Not a question of want," Garrod replied with a bit of a growl in his voice. "I'll get it back, one way or the other,"

There was a snap of twigs and a rustle of leaves. ahead of them.

"Shit," he hissed, and crouched low as he hurried behind a trunk. An arrow snapped forward and caught him across the plate, the iron head broke off and the shaft shattered into splinters that sprayed across his face and cut shallow scrapes into his skin. He pressed against the trunk of a tree and drew his blade. "In the branches!" he warned as thin ribbons of red trailed down his jaw.

"Ye dogs of Ulnot best turn back, or the next one wont miss!" a faceless voice called from ahead.

Garrod laughed bitterly under his breath. "Not like you knew I was wearing plate, you bushdog," He looked about. "You alright, partner?!" he called out.

His head ached, as if claws raked across his psyche. Belephus gone, he felt a wake in his mind. Scars, raw and open. He breathed hard, and even his loaned longsword felt heavy in his hands.

---

Shez Varin