Redmane flew down the hill, ripping apart beastmen on his way and devouring their remains while they were still hot.

Corpus: 2132

The final team of them awaited him at the bottom of the slope, filling the air with the crackle of gunfire as they tried in vain to land a shot on Redmane as he rapidly descended their way. But his fleetness was too much for them. And by the time they were done with their first salvo he was too close for them to safely flee.

Some tried anyway. They died huffing and puffing, eyes wild with the fear of prey.

Corpus: 2790

And that was the end of Pavel’s Powder Kegs.

The Stitchworks as well, it seemed. Their remains lay all about the street, blown to tatters by bombs and bullets, a mess of sallow skin and loose thread and bone blasted to splinters.

Good riddance. Redmane decided he’d prefer not to encounter anymore Undead. Wishful thinking, perhaps.

No matter. Barograd was half his, as far as he was concerned. It was time to cross the river and see to the other half.

But he took his time. The Powder Kegs were gone, but there were many more beastmen wandering the streets who weren’t a part of their gang. They roved in small packs, sniffing around for those who few had not been turned by the Blight.

Without marksmen to worry about, Redmane took to the streets. Stalking through them, ambushing packs of beastmen and rending them to pieces with tooth and claw. These ones seemed less sapient, weaker, and thus they provided less Corpus and even less experience.

But it would all add up.

Corpus: 2929

Corpus: 3156

Corpus: 3378

With how suddenly these higher level foes could carve away his vitality, Redmane decided the best course would be to stock up with the diligence of a squirrel preparing for winter. He did not go straight for the bridges. Instead he zigzagged up and down every street in his area, dispatching beastmen and wolfing them down with savage efficiency.

It was so easy he almost felt guilty.

Corpus: 4516

The lower level beastmen were not keen observers of their environment. Nor were they armed or armored, for the most part. Simply peasants, albeit bloodsoaked ones with sharp canines and a feral gleam in the eye. Most died so swiftly they hadn’t even seen what hit them.

Redmane stalked down the street of a neighborhood, his mouth and claws soaked with blood, his eyes gleaming. He could feel the depths of the hunger stirring in his bottomless gut. Something inside called to him from its depths, in a voice he could barely hear.

It insisted upon more.

He hunted them down and gorged himself for so many hours that his own diligence began to slip, not much, but enough for himself to unknowingly become the prey of another.

Aelia’s Emerald Arrow

If the Skill weren’t so bright, he might not have noticed it in time.

Redmane slipped to the side of a comet of green Gnosis that passed with such force that his hair and cloak billowed in the opposite direction.

Its caster stood at the end of the street. A tall young woman, blonde, with a staff in her hand and a long blue cloak over her gown. Redmane thought he’d seen that same cloak before.

He snarled and ran at the woman.

But a flash of steel from above told his instincts to halt. He looked up in time to see the blade of a sword coming for his head.

Redmane swatted it aside, claws ringing on steel, and the sword’s owner stood in his path.

He too was tall, young and blonde, clad in well kept plate mail, holding out a sword that no normal man ought to have been able to wield. The blade was two hand spans across, and about as long as the man was tall. He also wore that familiar blue cloak.

This much was clear, they were not beastmen.

A growl rumbled in Redmane’s throat.

“Stand aside,” he said. “And you’ll be spared.”

The young man gave Redmane a contemptuous look. “Forgive me if I do not trust in the mercy of a beast.”

He brought his massive sword down in a diagonal slash, which Redmane hopped back from. But then he had to hop yet again, because the lady caster behind him let off another Aelia’s Emerald Arrow afterward.

Redmane glanced at her for a moment, noticed the determination in her eyes. He also noticed that her eyes and the eyes of this fellow in front of him were the exact same shade of blue.

But the swordsman before him didn’t let Redmane get too good a look. He came down with a vertical slash, then another across, then a diagonal backswing. He was adept at keeping that huge weapon in motion, and at speed it seemed as if he were wielding it with the ease of a wooden training sword.

Another glowing missile flew by, and this time Redmane barely managed to evade it. It seared his face on its way by, and an instant later he leapt backward to dodge a horizontal cleave that would certainly have separated the upper half of his body from the lower half.

He didn’t want to hurt these two.

They were plainly not allied with any beastman faction here.

Then it hit him. The cloaks. He knew where he’d seen them. On Magister Helmold, the Imbued.

These were members of Valtr and Vengarl’s Coterie.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Redmane held up his hand. “Hold!”

The swordsman stood there in his stance, stony faced. Behind him, the head of his companion’s staff glowed green in preparation to loose another deadly Skill.

“I’ve met your comrades,” he said. “In Midva Forest. They helped me set free the townsfolk who had been captured by beastmen, for use in some fell ritual. I bid them to take the survivors to my Sanctuary, Häerz Castle.”

Both their expressions changed. But not to friendly ones. They looked suspicious.

“Their names are Valtr and Vengarl. I met them when I ventured into Midva Forest myself. They’re Hunters, like me.”

That raised their eyebrows.

“You’re Imbued…” said the swordsman, skepticism plain in the tone of his voice.

Then his brows drew together. He looked like he was inspecting Redmane more closely than before. Suddenly his eyebrow popped up, like he’d noticed at last the System icon floating next to Redmane’s head.

His eyes widened a bit when he opened it.

“Gods… You are an Imbued…”

“What?” the girl behind him said.

She lowered her staff and walked up next to her companion. Standing next to him made it quite plain that they were at least siblings, if not twins. She too seemed surprised to notice his System tag.

While they read his, Redmane figured he might as well read theirs.

—

Radovid Kaschak

Class: Warrior

Archetype: Swordsman

Faction: None

Level: 35

Irina Kaschak

Class: Magister

Archetype: Channeler

Faction: None

Level: 35

—

“How common are Coteries with two sets of siblings,” said Redmane.

Radovid let out a laugh despite himself. “You truly met Valtr and Vengarl?”

Redmane nodded. “They joined my faction as well.”

“They did what!?” said Irina.

“They also told me you had another Coterie member, a Justiciar by the name of Vella,” said Redmane. “I saw her earlier today, at some manner of religious observance with the beastman cultists.”

Radovid nodded, looking perturbed at how well informed Redmane seemed to be. “Aye, she goes off on her own. As Justiciars have a tendency to do.”

“Hold up there,” said Irina. “You said they joined your Faction?”

“House Redmane, yes. I created it when I claimed Häerz Castle for myself.”

Both their eyebrows raised at that.

“There aren’t any other Coteries in the area I know of,” said Radovid. “You did this by yourself?”

Redmane nodded.

Irina let out a low whistle. Radovid gave Redmane an appraising once-over, an eyebrow still raised.

“I confess sir, you look like no Imbued I’ve ever seen before. Even allowing for the unkemptness of the average Hunter.”

“I’ve heard as much before,” said Redmane. “Regardless, the System gave me the strength to break my chains. If only for that, I gladly give it my allegiance.”

Irina looked like she wanted to question him more, but then she shook her head and said, “Well met, Redmane. The sight of an ally in this place makes my heart glad. When there is time I would very much like to hear your story, but we find ourselves in a Blighted place.”

Radovid nodded. Then he turned and pointed to the east. “The bridges are guarded and watched by many eyes. We were considering which of them to traverse, to get to the other side of the town.”

“Why not the biggest one,” said Redmane.

The swordsman gave him a small, approving smile. “Yes, I was thinking the same.”

“It is the most heavily guarded,” said Irina.

“But now we are three,” said Radovid. “With a Hunter to aid us we’ll certainly prevail.”

Irina gave her brother a crestfallen look, shrugged, and shook her head.

“Let’s see to it then.”

Redmane nodded and walked with them. He’d had enough to eat, or so he hoped. Whatever that quiet voice was, hidden in the depths of his gut, he noticed that the more he ate, the more he could hear it.

On their way eastward through the town, the trio of Imbued continued to encounter packs of beastmen on the street. These were dispatched even more swiftly than Redmane had managed by himself. And while he would rather not have given Irina and Radovid a bad first impression, he couldn’t let perfectly good food go to waste. Especially not with the next battle close at hand.

They reacted with the same sort of wide eyed, open mouthed shock Valtr and Vengarl had.

Redmane chuckled, wiped some blood from his chin. In the darkness his irises shimmered like a hound’s.

“Don’t worry. I only eat enemies.”

“Comforting,” said Irina, though she did not look comforted.

This happened a few more times before they reached the town’s central bridge. Their reaction didn’t mellow, but the sustenance did add up.

Corpus: 5292

“Do you have to eat them all?” Irina asked, sounding a bit desperate for relief.

“With every bite of flesh I consume, I gain Corpus.”

They both turned to gape at him again.

When he explained how Omnivore worked, and how it had evolved as he’d gained levels, their astonishment shone plainly on their faces.

“Such a Skill…” Radovid shook his head. “No Monster I’ve ever heard of possesses such a thing.”

Redmane shrugged. “The closest thing to myself I’ve yet seen is the Gruu, and they aren’t that similar. To speak truly, my past is unknown to me. I’ve forgotten, or else my memories have been robbed by some Skill.”

Radovid and Irina exchanged a troubled look.

“I see,” said Radovid.

“Did you say you came from Häerz Castle?” said Irina.

“Aye,” said Redmane.

Irina’s expression turned thoughtful as they walked along. “The domain of the Morholts, same as this town. Far removed from their cousins. The Holt family line is long gone, but of their descendants, the Karholts, Stanholts and Morholts, only the latter came all the way north to settle amongst the barbarians.”

Radovid side-eyed his sister. “Why did they migrate so far from their home?”

“Nobody knows,” said Irina.

Redmane didn’t know either, so he didn’t comment. The three of them continued to converse as they traveled east, until at last they stood before the great stone bridge at the center of town.

A copper plaque at the end of the bridge gave the Imbued its name, Brandys Bridge. No doubt named for its architect or chief stonemason. Whoever Brandys was, they ought to have been proud of their workmanship. It was made of sturdy stone, joined with care and precision, wide enough across to accommodate two wagons or coaches riding side by side.

Tonight, it accomodated beastman warriors.

They wore the livery of House Morholt over chainmail. A line of four in the rear had shields on their backs, swords belted at their waists and muskets in their hands.

The next rank up were more heavily armored. Half a dozen burly beastmen clad in plate, with visored helms and heavy arms; two handed blades, hammers, axes and the like.

And standing before them all, their leader. Or leaders, there were two.

One was massive, half again as tall as either Redmane or Radovid and twice as wide. This one wore burnished plate mail and a bucket helm, looking large enough to stress the bridge’s construction. In his right hand he held a huge battle axe, with a blade tall enough to split a man cleanly down the middle in a single chop.

There was a cannon strapped to his left arm.

Strapped to his back was an open barrel of cannonballs.

And upon the shoulder of this giant sat the other leader.

He would have been comically small if one stood him next to a normal sized man, but next to this one he didn’t resemble a man at all, more like a goblin or an imp. He wore rags, and his eyes hid behind a curtain of lank black hair. Belted at his waist was a pouch containing powder of some kind, and a box of matchsticks.

Optional Task:

Slay Laszlo and Stenn, Guardians of Brandis Bridge

Tasks Completed: 2/5

The small one called out to the trio of Imbued from across the bridge.

“None may pass, until the powder kegs and the stitched up bitches have had it out!”

“They are slain,” Redmane answered. “And you’re next.”

The little beastman cackled. “We got a live one! Alright then lads, give em a warm welcome!”

He signaled to the men behind him. The ones armed in plate with melee weapons advanced, the ones in the back readied their firearms.

“Shall we?” said Radovid.

Redmane was already sprinting to meet them.

There was a loud crack, like a bomb going off. He didn’t recognize the sound.

Not until a cannonball struck him face-first.

Corpus: 4390

Redmane blacked out.

He came to, spinning through the air. His head felt like it had been stomped on by a giant. Distantly, as if it were happening to someone else, he felt the sensation of his body striking the ground, then skidding and rolling to a halt.

As if reluctantly waking from a nap, his body sluggishly complied when he ordered it to rise. First he got up onto his hands, shook his head to clear the powerful daze.

When he looked up, there stood a team of soldiers on top of him with their weapons held high. One with a greatsword, one with a two handed axe, and one with a long hafted warhammer.

Veteran Guard

Monster Type: Corrupted

Level 45

The guards closed in over him, and like executioners their weapons came down as one.