I ducked down an alleyway leading towards the wall, listening to the quietly padding feet of my pursuer. The dense melange of odors in the human town made it difficult to pick out the scent of the being that followed me. At best, I could rule out any of the humans with which I’d made close contact.
I made a quick jump, sank my claws into a wooden roof beam, and hauled my way up from ground level. Moments later, a small head poked around the corner of the alley. The small human, not seeing their quarry, stepped into the entrance and scratched their head.
“Damn, I could have sworn he ducked down this way. Crapsicles.” The diminutive figure hung their head and their shoulders drooped.
With great care, I eased my way along the roof until I was positioned above the small human where they continued to sulk and grumble. Thankfully, Dendra had managed to stay quiet this whole time. It was nice that she could occasionally be silent when needed.
I watched from my perch on the roof for several moments before the small human skulked away. It would be an easy kill, but with all these humans around it might draw attention. A stray noise, the scent of blood - anything could interfere with my cleanup meal. Being around the various types of humans complicated everything so needlessly. At least I was close enough now to distinguish the small man’s scent. It contained hints of something metallic and oily.
Dendra interrupted my thoughts with some of her usual prattle. “That looked like a gnome. They’re not often types for skulduggery. Even odds, he wanted to research you or ask me questions.”
I frowned. “He was just curious?”
“It’s a racial affliction. Gnomes can’t resist their need to know.”
I nodded, absently. Parts of a phrase came to mind, filtering out from that segregated section of my psyche. Something about curiosity killing something. Maybe a bobcat or a coyote. Some kind of animal. I wasn’t really that interested in the saying’s provenance or actual form.
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“Sorry, Trella,” Vee apologized. “I know he makes you uncomfortable, but you’re the only one of us who can teach someone how to read spell forms. Then there’s the dryad…” Vee sighed.
The other three nodded emphatically. The five hunters had gathered in the larger of their two rented rooms.
Grix let out a long sigh. “We really didn’t intend to throw you under a stampeding herd. But she is a dryad. And he… scares me.”
Sil and Sul nodded enthusiastically in agreement.
Grix continued, haltingly. “Most tend to be wary of someone my size and strength. Especially when they might come up against me. When we came into that clearing, it felt like he regarded me as no different than a human. It wasn’t even dismissive and arrogant, it was more like he simply knew I was no threat to him.”
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“His spear is like an open maw, waiting to snap up a morsel.” Sil said as Sul emphatically nodded.
“Anything that wields something as vicious as that should be feared,” Sul added.
“We might not know all that you do about these Ravager Kin, but we’re not so dense as to be unable to see how much you fear them. Nor to take a being who has drawn the attention of a dryad lightly.” Vee said, laying a hand on Trella’s shoulder.
Trella sighed. “Their clan… they… they destroyed ours. Wiped out all but a handful of bloodlines. Their affinity for Blood was greater than any of our protectors’ affinity for Dreams or Deceit.” She took a deep breath before continuing.
“They raided my clan a few years before I was born. I grew up listening to the tales of their brutality and fearsome power. Many of our strongest warriors died in the stand against them, the blood in the bodies tearing out through their skin and leaving them as little more than dried husks as a handful of us ran for their lives.” She sobbed at the memory of the sorrowful tales she had heard as she grew up. The grief had been fresh and raw even during her formative years when she’d heard the stories.
Grix, being his usual and supremely tactful self, probed further. “What is their original totem? All of the major bloodlines have a totem of origin. He looked like a weird blend, so I wasn’t able to place it.”
Trella looked down at the floor and her shoulders sunk. “I don’t know. I’ve only heard the stories. Their Primes were rumored to be savage beyond belief. They tore blood from the fallen to rip their remaining foes apart. He is probably at least passingly familiar with Blood magic.” Trella whimpered lightly at the thought of having to continue dealing with such an abominable beast.
She shuddered and whined a moment before continuing. “They killed both of my grandfathers. My mother’s father was considered to be one of the best Dream Weavers on this continent, but they yanked his blood out of his body and used it to drown my father’s father who stood beside him.”
“That sounds… terrible…” Vee said, unable to keep the fox-kin girl’s gaze.
Similarly, Grix and the scaled brothers were unable to look directly at her.
After a few minutes of silence, Grix grunted and looked at Trella. “How old did he appear?”
After moment of sputtering and stammering, Trella took her best guess. “I don’t know, maybe 15 to 17? He looked like he was only just old enough to be considered an adult, even though he seemed quite fit.”
The half-giant remained silent for a moment before continuing. “So, in other words, he is not old enough to have any connections to the fall of your clan, after all. You are about 20 years old, right?”
Vee and Trella both scowled at this line of questioning, while the lizard brothers looked thoughtful.
Grix shook his head slowly, as if he were stating the obvious to a willfully ignorant imbecile. “If he is younger than you, he was not involved with your unfortunate past.”
Silence echoed through the room.
“Plus, we know he has little to no memory of anything beyond the recent past,” Vee added.
“Or so he claims,” hissed one of the lizard brothers.
“I distrust the dryad,” the other brother added.
“You also don’t trust chairs to hold your weight,” Grix added with a smirk on his face.
Vee silenced the coming banter with a glare. “For now, I agree that we should be wary of the dryad and her schemes. All of the long lived races are inherent schemers. Sure, the Ravager is scary and those two have some kind of weird and unhealthy dynamic, but immortal races tend to be the ones pulling the strings. I’d give even odds that she abducted him from his clan as a child and raised him up to be her pet muscle.”
The others nodded, looking thoughtful.
“That said,” she continued, “we can’t overlook the potential benefits of working with a being as powerful and old as a dryad. So, unless it seems like she means us harm, we should play along for the time being.” As she delivered her last line, she fixed Trella with a hard stare. The fox girl withered under the weight of Vee’s gaze.
After a drawn out silence, Trella finally consented to act as the beast’s teacher with a nod.