Chapter 2
Shep pushed his way through the dense brush, the hunting party had been on an overgrown path for several hours and were approaching the camp set up prior to setting off. One of the guards was leading the way, tentatively pushing branches off the path so that Orric could pass unhindered, he was sweating profusely and cursing as he scrambled on.
“For fuck sake, how far away from the camp are we Simon?” Orric spat.
“About a quarter of a mile, my lord. We will get there in about 20 minutes.” Spoke the guard quickly. “Hurry up Failure, bring the Lord a drink.”
Shep placed the bundles of arrows against a tree and rushed to Orric’s side, the fat man was panting and leaning against a tree. The man snatched the waterskin from Shep’s hands and greedily gulped down the liquid, after he had refreshed himself, he dropped the skin to the ground and turned back to Simon.
“Let’s keep going Simon, there’s ale and meat at the camp.” Orric grinned toothily, he turned back to Shep who was picking up the dropped waterskin, “Try to keep up Wretch.” The guards immediately burst into fits of laughter and started complimenting Orric on calling Shep a wretch.
“Haha… My Lord, you come up with the most ingenious names.” Chortled Simon before picking himself up and proceeding down the path. Orric followed behind quickly running out of breath, through his wheezing the party heard a far off roar and immediately jumped to attention. “Just a blade wolf, sounds like its coming from across the river, my Lord, they don’t venture across into this forest.”
The other guard still appeared uneasy, his dog spirit was quietly whining, but Orric puffed his chest out and his Fire-Bird spirit screeched into the forest surrounding them. “HOW DARE YOU MAKE SUCH A NOISE IN MY PRESENCE!!” Orric bellowed into the trees copying his spirit. The guard smiled, his composure returned with the loud laughter coming from Orric.
Shep couldn’t help but smile, he may have hated the man, but he was good with the underlings that he cared about. Orric obviously had noticed the second guard’s unease and had instantly alleviated it with his outrageous act of shouting at an absent Blade wolf. The Lord’s physical form may have been more resembling a walrus, but his ability to lead, his ability to think was top tier. The party continued onward, and after several more rest-stops reached the clearing in which the camp was set. The sun was sinking low and after arrival Orric immediately began wolfing down the dried deer meat left for them. The two guards started hurrying around after him, laughing at his jokes and joining him in the partaking of the ale, only Shep was left to gather firewood and prepare Orric’s sleeping quarters, a large hammock nestled between two smaller ones (the guards’).
“Failure, are you done?” Spat Simon, pushing him aside, “The Lord wants to sleep.”
As Shep nodded the portly silhouette of Orric appeared behind Simon. Orric was obviously drunk and he merely grunted before collapsing into his hammock. Simon glanced around before falling into his own and the 2nd guard did a quick perimeter check before following suit. Shep wandered over to the fire where the 3 men had been eating and drinking and tossed a few branches onto the blaze, he reached into his pack and retrieved some crusty bread and a small waterskin that Esme had packed for him. As the darkness enveloped the clearing and the moon started to rise, Shep heard another far-off roar from some ferocious unknown animal, and with that he curled up near the fire and closed his eyes.
The morning light pierced the sleep Shep was in and he bolted up, the embers of the night’s fire were still warm and he used this to heat up a brass kettle for Orric’s morning coffee. As the water was heating he ventured out of the clearing to gather more firewood for when they returned after the first hunt. He stacked it near the fire-pit and then moved to wake up the rest. He stood over Simon and prodded him until he woke. The guard grunted at him before waking the 2nd guard and then finally waking Orric.
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Orric groaned before clumsily struggling out of his hammock and staggered to the fire, he looked at Shep who was poking at the ashes with a stick and angrily pointed at an empty iron mug. Shep understood and carefully poured out the contents of the kettle into the mug. “Your coffee, My Lord.”
Orric gulped down the fluid in one swig, due to his spirit being fire-based it seemed he was immune to the heat of the scalding hot drink. “Come gentleman, let’s hunt.” He waddled off to the edge of the clearing, his bird circling above and the 2 guards ran to his side. “Failure. Bring our stuff.”
Shep sighed, picking up the ornate bow and arrow quiver he sprinted to the 3 men. They started to force their way through the dense brush, periodically stopping to allow the overweight lord a rest. The walk was fairly uneventful, just the usual insults thrown at Shep, the ass-kissing of Orric and his constant boasting of how he’ll ‘bag a great white stag’ or ‘kill the Bloodbag Bear’. Aside from the fact that there were no bears on this side of the river (everything dangerous had been eradicated), the ‘Bloodbag Bear’ was reportedly a 7 meter colossus that had killed both knights seeking valour and hunters seeking fortune, so this old bloated whale had about as much chance killing it as Shep had at sprouting wings and flying. After several hours Simon stopped and raised his arm, the chattering Lord instantly fell silent and started madly gesturing at Shep to give him his bow. Shep obliged and handed the ornamental looking bow over, and then handed over an arrow. Orric nocked the arrow and shunted his way past Simon and glared out towards where the guard was pointing. A lone deer with a magnificent brown pelt was grazing a slight ways away, it raised it’s head and Shep saw it’s large ebony antlers. The fat hunter let the arrow fly but his impatience clearly showed, the projectile arced over the top of the animal, missing it by several meters but alerting the creature. It let out a mournful sounding moan before bolting in the opposite direction.
“FUCK. Failure, you made noise” Swore Orric, swinging his bow toward Shep’s face.
Shep instinctively ducked beneath the swing, but instantly regretted this. The fat man stumbled as he swung and fell back into the dirt, the guards immediately grabbed Shep’s small arms and began to pummel him for not accepting the Lord’s swing. Orric smirked as he saw Shep’s bloody face before ordering the guards to cease. “Thank Lord Orric, boy” spat Simon, “If he wasn’t so benevolent, we would beat you to death and leave you to be wolf food.”
Shep wiped the blood from his face and looked up at Orric, “Thankyou for your kindness, my Lord.” He forced through clenched teeth. Orric grinned maliciously and gestured at his bow on the ground, Shep picked it up and re bound it in the cloth he had carried it in. The other 3 men turned their backs on Shep and began to return to camp, there would be no point in hunting any further today.
Back at camp the Lord and his guards began their merrymaking, drinking heavily like the night before and devouring more of the meat. Shep sat in the waning sun off to the side and began tending to his wounds. Esme had gifted him some crushed herbs that he rubbed over his bleeding face, the stinging was intense but eventually faded, and by the time the pain had dulled enough for him to sleep, the Lord and the other 2 were fast asleep.
The next day was mostly the same, the party moving through the woods in a different direction. The only difference was that the second guard had secreted one of Orric’s arrows away and was now carrying his own bow. Shep understood why he was doing this, the second guard was an amazing shot so he would covertly take the shot at the same time as Orric, allowing the fat old man to believe he had brought down his prey. After several hours of following scat trails and animal paths the hunting party came across another deer, one with pelt of midnight blue but with no antlers. Orric drew his bow and released, unknown to him the second guard followed suit, Orric’s arrow struck a tree before spinning into the brush while the guards aim was true and the projectile thudded into the creatures neck. It fell and began writhing frantically.
“YES. DID YOU SEE THAT?!” Orric screamed triumphantly rushing to the creature. Shep joined him, Orric beamed proudly at ‘his’ accomplishment before the moment was soured by the animal’s gargled death throes. He frustratedly gestured to Shep, and the boy pushed a knife into the creatures heart. The beautiful creature now lay motionless and Orric turned his back on it, “Bring it to camp, Failure.”
Shep nodded and hoisted the thing onto his back and began trudging after the party who had already left him behind. At least the 2nd guard was holding the rest of the equipment, Orric’s bow, his quiver and the waterskin. The load was fairly heavy and equally awkward to carry through the dense thicket, but Shep never fell too far behind, what with Orric’s constant need for rest.
They reached the camp as night fell and the other men fell into their routine of drinking heavily before falling asleep. Shep moved the deceased deer into the moonlight and stroked its soft fur. “Fuckin’ animals killing something this cool.” He growled, he turned away and headed too his spot by the fire as he settled down he noticed his ant spirit was absent and looking back observed it sat watching the deer. He thought nothing of it and closed his eyes.
With a successful hunt the party returned to the manor, Shep shouldered the blue deer and the 3 men laughed and joked ahead of him. The terrain grew more forgiving the closer they got to the manor grounds and before long the party burst from the treeline outside the rusted old eastern gate. Reginald stood guard and greeted the gentlemen individually as they approached, commenting on the beautiful kill Orris had achieved. Shep wandered up to him after placing the creature on the back of Orric’s waiting mare.
“Heya Reg, how’s the place been since I’ve been gone” Laughed Shep, ecstatic to finally be back home, to be away from Orric and his goons.
Reginald noticed the scabbed injuries on Shep’s face and frowned, “Listen Shepherd, something has happened, and you need to take a seat.” Shep, seeing the seriousness on Reginald’s usually jovial face, sat on the grass in front of him, “Esme…She’s… Esme’s dead.”