[Messages] were sent en masse; They flew in the air, etching themselves to the papers of their recipients, along with magical seals that let them know who sent it. The amount of gold and mana spent for this moment that the Mage and Merchant Guilds struggled to process them. The [Mayor] of Tucken received one of these messages first. Wooden chests filled to the brim with gold were brought to him so that he had been urged to order his Mage Guild to send [Message] Spells on behalf of the woman who paid him.
Tucken announced that Numisley Gildin and Raudaeiz Jaucles are now outlaws that escaped prison. The Bounty Hunter Guilds of the nearby towns had heeded the announcement, posting copies of the bounty. [Bounty Hunters] of Fishal, Beson, and Sidès had mobilized to find them. Mayor Tulck had issued this warning in the surrounding settlements, effectively making Numisley a criminal with a six thousand gold bounty: an above-average price for one person. The collective eyes of the [Bounty Hunters] bulged that they are offered the aid of teleportation for the more distant [Bounty Hunters] or those with an advanced Role. Any wagon or transportation service belonging to a Drivers' Guild can be called to aid them in the hunt.
The Stationmistress opened a bottle of fine, crimson wine that seemed to glow in the moonlight. She made sure that her transactions were from her own pockets, not the Corporation’s and she made sure that the [Mayor] of Tucken was the one who issued the warning around the settlements. The bounty was not too high, nor it was too low for the best [Bounty Hunters] within the area, and she made sure that the bounty was as private as possible. Her agents now monitored these [Bounty Hunters], and her information network suggests that they are going to Fishal.
No more games. The Stationmistress was done holding back.
----------------------------------------
The caravan was traveling on a road beside a river, the noonday sun making the rippling water blindingly bright. Snow caked the grass and made trees heavy. Cultrost stopped staring at the river and turned to Palden.
“Are we there yet?”
“Few miles away. I suppose.”
The caravan was on the road for two days, faster than most because of Palden’s [Caravan Master]’s Feats. Two days of traveling on what was normally a five-day journey, even if they are traveling on a well-known trade road. They were heading to the town of Fishal to find out information about the Veohantaye Tribe that lives in the castle on Fishalttop Mountain so that Cultrost arm can be healed. Cultrost had [Ignore Pain], but his broken arm was swollen and tender even if he has that Feat. No healing potion can heal broken bones, and he was sure that the [Priests] of any settlement were occupied from healing and feeding so many people. His brother’s broken arm unnerved Numisley, and he wanted to get to the castle as fast as possible before it gets worse and he will be forced to cut the arm off.
They had stopped in front of a short line of wagons. A wooden outpost with two tall and wide watchtowers flanked the main stone road. The wooden ramparts protected the few wooden buildings within, complete with log houses, a stable, a bar, and even a chicken coop and a place for [Traders] to trade with the [Mercenaries] posted in the outpost that resembled a hamlet.
"Good day. We're the Riverine Brigade. Mercs under Diamond Shore. We'll inspect your cargo. Have you seen anyone that has a crippled young man with a walking stick? A blonde man with a blue chaperone? Their names are Numisley Gildin and Raudaeiz Jaucles. Outlaws of Tucken."
Palden wiped the sudden sweat on his forehead as he saw that they were now in trouble. The seven or so [Mercenaries] outside the outpost inspected the wagon in front of them. He nudged Cultrost who quickly got in the back of the wagon.
"Guys. You got a bounty."
"How?"
"Tucken. The [Mayor] must've posted it."
Numisley had an inkling that there was something more behind the scenes but he can only guess without anything to guide him. Most likely, the [Mayor] had declared them outlaws, after they had threatened the [Mayor]. There's also the fact that Raudaeiz's real name was now on the bounty.
"Psst! Palden, got any Feat that can help?" Cultrost asked nervously.
"[Compartments of Holding] can't hide people. It will eject you." Palden informed them.
"I got a plan," Raudaeiz spoke up. "We'll disguise Numisley. And me of course."
The [Thief Leader] removed his chaperone, revealing his cut horns.
"Boss?" One of Raudaeiz's men was shocked that he had hidden his Satyr horns from them for a long time. They had assumed that he was a Human.
"Never really liked removing this." Raudaeiz stared at his chaperone in his hand. "So, the plan is that we're going to disguise ourselves. They have our names and our appearance, but they don't know that I'm a Demihuman Satyr. I'm not sure if they had scried Numisley Gildin however, and an accurate scrying spell will need their appearance as well as their name. So, Numisley, hide your walking staff. You know the trick with [Compartments of Holding], right? Hide the staff there."
Palden instructed Cultrost on how to cut a small hole in the canvas so the Feat can take effect. They hid the walking staff in the canvas along with the cloth chaperone. Numisley's paralyzed leg was wrapped with cloth to hide it, and Raudaeiz sat within the wagon calmly.
"We take our chances. You know how to fool basic truth spells?"
"Telling half-truths?"
"There's another way. Keep calm. Act naturally. Most truth spells detect truths or lies with our mannerisms and our body. Unless they scried us completely, these hicks don't know what we look like."
They heard the guards of Fishal’s outpost walking around their wagon. A balding man with a goatee peek inside the wagon, along with the other [Mercenaries].
“We’re the Riverine Brigade. Paid by the Township of Fishal under the authority of the Conglomerate. We’ll inspect your wagon. Have you seen a crippled young man with a walking staff and a blonde man with a blue chaperone? Outlaws named Raudaeiz Jaucles and Numisley Gildin.”
“No,” Numisley answered, looking at the [Mercenary] straight in the eye.
“Nope,” Raudaeiz added.
“We’ll inspect your wagon. What’s your business with Fishal?”
“Trade,” Numisley answered succinctly.
The [Mercenaries] did a quick inspection of the wagon. Not a thorough one since there are incoming wagons. They do not know of Palden’s [Compartments of Holding] trick, and they simply checked the wooden chests and sacks that they have on their wagons.
“Be on your way.”
They passed through the outpost and into the outskirts of the town. Beyond the farmland and the river ports where Fishal’s [Fishers] go in and out on boats, past the widely spread out buildings of the suburbs, the center of the town sat cozily on the lush slopes of a hill among taller peaks. The town was still expanding, with the clearings among trees and the dusty foundations and scaffoldings uphill. There was a ruined fort worn by centuries that still stood on top of the hill, overlooking everything below it.
“See? Those hicks didn’t even have a truth stone.”
Raudaeiz grabbed the walking staff and his chaperone. He gave it to one of his men, wrapping it around a brown cloth and hiding it within the shadows of his cloth.
“If there’s already a bounty, there’s a possibility that you have been scryed, and there will be [Bounty Hunters] on the hunt. I'll hide these for now; they might identify us based on eyewitness accounts."
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Numisley thought of the possibility presented by Raudaeiz. There might be already [Bounty Hunters] in town, and they must acquire information about the whereabouts of the Veohantaye Tribe and their castle quickly.
"If that's the case…we won't be staying here long. Stay at the wagons. Cultrost, bring Graten with you. Ask around the stalls. We'll park in the free spaces within the market. We’ll hide in the wagon.”
“Got it.”
The wagon was parked on a road within the bazaar. The foot traffic swerved around the wagons that suddenly stopped at the side of the busy wide road. They assumed that the caravan had a broken axle in one of their wagons and minded their business. However, the attentive and prying eyes among the crowd of Humans and Satyrs had noticed the two people going out from one of the wagons, before a couple of armed men and women surrounded the small caravan.
Cultrost and Graten roamed the market district of the town. Among the crowd, they saw a lot of people carrying weapons, swords, axes, spears, crossbows, bows clubs, maces, wands, and even someone with a whip and a group of people with catchpoles. Some of them rode on horses, carefully wading through the crowd. He saw a number of them with ropes hanging on their pack, bolas, and some with tracking hounds that sniffed the air.
“They don’t look like ‘venturers…”
Cultrost whispered to Graten as they stopped in front of an old Satyr woman selling clay pots and jars. The old woman too stared at the armed people among the crowd, but it isn’t that unusual for the people of the world to see someone carrying weapons for self-defense or their occupations.
“They’re [Bounty Hunters]. Not adventurers. They must be here for the bounty.”
The fact that they have ropes and hounds, and gear unusual for adventurers to carry contributed to Graten’s conclusion. Cultrost avoided showing his face to the nearest suspected [Bounty Hunter] and approached the pot vendor; her wrinkled face regarding them.
“Miss, I’m looking to heal my arm. Do you know any path to the Veohantaye Tribe?”
Cultrost turned, showing his broken arm in a sling. The older Satyr woman raised her eyebrow, face warmed with concern.
“Poor boy…The [Priests] are always occupied, are they? I heard from the [Traders] that you need to go beyond the mountain district of the town. There’s a dirt path from the town that may lead to the peak of Fishalttop Mountain, the mountain connected to the town’s hill. But you need to pay a price.”
“What price? Gold?”
“Nothing of that sort. There was a [Commander] that came here many moons ago, who wished to heal his deformed arm caused by a hex. In exchange for the lives of his five best men.”
“He sacrificed them to him?”
“Nothing of that sort. Luck, fate…They suffered misfortune because their [Commander] had sacrificed their luck. I heard one of them died of sickness because he stepped on a rusty arrowhead.”
Cultrost’s hesitated for a moment, surprised. What will be the cost of fixing his broken arm, he wondered.
“What kind of magic is this?” Graten uttered.
“Magic not used by the [Mages] of the cities. Only [Shamans] can do what [Mages] cannot.”
They thanked the old woman and apologized for not buying her wares. They went back to the wagons.
“There’s a lot of [Bounty Hunters] around,” Graten told Numisley.
“Where’s the castle?” Numisley asked.
“Dirt path on the mountain outside the city. It leads to the castle on the next mountain.”
Graten and Numisley peeked out of the wagon and he pointed at a faraway path outside of the walls of a district near the center of the town on the slope of the hill. If it were any other time, they could appreciate the beauty of the town on the hill, and the backdrop of the taller lush mountains with the fog dripping down from their icy summits.
“We’ll have to camp in the mountains then. It would be messy if we’re forced to fight the [Bounty Hunters] here if they ever found me and Raudaeiz.”
No one objected, except for a few who groaned at the fact that there will not be sleeping in an inn’s warm bed tonight. The caravan left the town soon and tread the dirt hill path that led towards the mountain behind Fishal. On that night, they set up camp on the ridge of Fishalttop Mountain. The camp was among the few trees on the slopes, surrounded by their wagons in a protective position. Numisley and Cultrost were inside one of the wagons, avoiding being seen. Lurking around, far from the camp were animals and lesser monsters like Direwolves wary of the camp's strength. Among the trees were approaching [Bounty Hunters], stealthily lurking among the cover of the night with Feats and Spells that silenced their steps.
Graten had sensed something in the air. They had set [Alarm] runes around the camp beforehand, as well as ordinary tripwire alarms. The [Sword Captain] and [Watcher] can see in the dark because of his [Darkvision], along with other of his Feats. His eyes turned towards something moving nimbly at the corner of his eye, but he saw that it was an abnormally large squirrel dashing from branch to branch. But he grabbed a crossbow bolt that would hit his eye if it wasn’t for his Feated reflexes. A [Fireball] exploded, burning down one of their wagons. Some of the [Bounty Hunters] who waited all day for the Severed Swords had ceased hiding within camouflaged tents cast spells and let loosed arrows, and some are charging towards them on foot.
“An attack! Ready for combat! Prepare to escape!”
His voice, amplified by [Alarming Command] had woken up everyone in the camp. They grabbed their weapons and took cover behind the wagons. Those who were able had hopped on the panicking horses and struggled to move the wagons. Beforehand, Palden told Numisley of his new Feat after their escape, devising an escape plan around that.
A couple of [Riders] charged towards them, but the Severed Swords quickly disposed of two of them with crossbows and the spells from their wands. But still, some simply dodged the projectiles coming for them. Raudaeiz and his gang helped by killing the [Bounty Hunters] who already closed the distance. Graten activated some of his Feats that applied to his group. The [Bounty Hunters], working as individuals or in groups, have already taken casualties among the Severed Swords. A woman with a whip that seemed to grow longer simply deflected all of the crossbow bolts and spells by twirling it around, and the [Sword Captain] knew that she was the most dangerous among the unknowable number of [Bounty Hunters] among the trees.
“Palden! Use it now!”
Graten saw the whip flick, tearing a part of his gambeson off with the impact. As he saw the wagons that were ready to go, Palden spoke, activating the Feat.
“[Caravan: Instantaneous Evacuation]!”
All of the Severed Swords and Raudaeiz and his gang were suddenly inside the remaining four wagons as if they were teleported inside.
“How convenient…” Raudaeiz was amazed by that Feat from the person that he thought was a simple [Wagon Driver].
“Josaif, how many casualties?” Graten snapped at his [Lieutenant].
“Three, sir! Basseil, Redien, and Qimea died.”
Graten didn’t have the luxury of grieving, as the caravan suddenly accelerated when Palden activated his [Caravan: Eleventh Hour Wheels] Feat. They saw mounted [Bounty Hunters] behind them, hitting the wagons with arrows and spells. The [Caravan Master] saw an [Earth Wall] rise, but it was too late for him to decelerate. His sharp turn had made the wagon topple from the momentum of his Feat.
Numisley woke up on Cultrost’s shoulders, and he hears the faint sounds of fighting even if his head rang from the impact. The wagons were all destroyed and the horses that pulled them were dead. Spare weapons, tools, grain, and many of their products were left behind.
“How many dead?”
“We’re the only Severed Swords alive sir…”
Numisley heard Graten faintly, and he cannot even think about what Graten meant by them being the only people alive as the blood dripped from his forehead. As they hiked through the mountain, Numisley slowly regained consciousness.
“The books…” Numisley groaned, trying to stay awake.
“They're in my vest,” Cultrost reassured.
Numisley looked around and saw only six of the Severed Swords remaining. The rest was still intact, albeit damaged.
“Fuck.” Graten looked back. He saw the female [Bounty Hunter] wearing a coat from earlier, wielding a fearsome whip that had destroyed Graten’s gambeson and took the lives of three of the Severed Swords. She simply strides towards them calmly as other [Bounty Hunters] gave chase.
“This is the end…I see.” Palden despaired. They are tired from the fighting, and their morale is lower than ever. Numisley refused to give up.
“Give me my staff,” Numisley ordered. The gang member who held his walking staff promptly handed him the staff. He pointed it in the general direction behind them and one of the runes on the staff cast [Fireball], burning an unfortunate [Bounty Hunter], cooking him within his steel and cloth armor.
Before he depleted the spells on his staff, the ground rumbled. Under the moonlight, a hulking being of flowing black fur and skin of midnight blue regarded the [Bounty Hunters] within the trees. It has a face with a crown of four curved horns, close to monstrous, but clearly, a person determined to defend their home. A dozen spear-wielding [Warriors] seemingly emerged from the night behind the giant. Tall and muscular people with midnight blue, maroon, or crimson skin wearing bony masks and glowing white markings.
“Demons?”
Cultrost was wrong, and he realized that they are Satyrs who had undergone the rites of transmutation that every powerful Satyr tribe has.
“Go.”
The gigantic Satyr rumbled, an Oxidigos of the Veohantaye Tribe. He raised his hammer protectively, a weapon made from a tree trunk, its branches wrapped around a gem-encrusted boulder the size of a hut, vibrating and glowing with latent power.
“Thank you…” Cultrost spoke, and the giant felt his desperate gratitude even if he didn’t hear his voice. Numisley and company ran deeper into the mountain, past the [Warriors] standing guard.
“On the authority of the Bounty Hunters’ Guilds of Fishal, Beson, and Sidès, hand over the outlaws!” The woman with a whip asserted. The Oxidigos laughed, his bellow making the branches sway.
“Humans and their Guilds. They have no power here.”
The gigantic Satyr loudly mocked. The woman with a whip pointed her finger towards the giant, calling for a volley.
“[Ray of Incineration]!”
An [Mage] among the [Bounty Hunters] cast a Tier 4 Spell, but the burning ray diffused upon contact on the giant’s protective markings on his skin, the magic coursing around the paint. The [Bounty Hunters] cast spells and loosed arrows and even bombs, but it simply glanced off him. The woman with a whip attempted to close the distance, wrapping her whip on the giant’s thick neck, hoping to climb on him and deal damage.
“My turn.”
The only Oxidigos of the mountain raised his hammer, accurately flattening the woman flying towards him with a quick and heavy swing, and smashing the ground into pieces. The slope of the mountain lit up with the magic stored within the hammer, creating a landslide that collapsed the trees, rocks, and soil. The town of Fishal saw flocks of bats and birds suddenly flying out of the mountain, as they heard a tremor from the mountain. The Watch of Fishal went on high alert, thinking that a horde of monsters or a disaster will destroy the settlement.
After grueling minutes of walking, Numisley and company found themselves in front of the castle of the Veohantaye Tribe.