“Surely you can’t mean to set out tonight?” said Talon, sitting on a barrel and watching as Pike sorted through the piles of supplies, packing away only what was absolutely necessary. Speed was of the essence, and he had to travel light.

“Got no choice,” muttered Pike. “This Gob… or Hob or whatever his name is, he wants to track this ranger that got away, and the bugger’s got a few days head start, even if he is hurt. Got to find his trail, and quick…”

“In the dark?” Talon raised an eyebrow. “I don’t question your ability as a tracker, but even the local dogs couldn’t catch a scent.” He reached into a barrel of apples and took a bite out of one, much to the annoyance of the goblin storehouse manager who was assigned to equip Pike for the journey. “As far as anyone is concerned,” Talon continued around a mouthful of apple, “this ranger has disappeared off the face of the earth.”

Pike grinned. “We’ll see about that…”

Talon nodded. “By the way, what was the price that old Hob settled on for this job? He’s not ripping you off I hope.”

Pike shrugged, adjusting the canteen on his belt. “It’s that ugly bastard that better hope he can make good on his end of the deal.” Pike raised up his sword of black steel and inspected the edge. Although incredibly durable, it still needed more maintenance than one would hope for an enchanted blade. Talon couldn’t help but admire the weapon.

So… he didn’t ask for money then… Talon mused to himself, his mind at work. “That sword…” Talon said suddenly. “Is it what I think it is?”

Pike nodded.

“I see… Rath Mornacai… the Hunger of the Beast. It always had a… dark reputation.”

“The man I took this from wouldn’t give it up so easily…” Pike put the blade back in its scabbard. “Went on and on about how it was an abomination, an evil that should not have been brought in the world and all that… had to kill him in the end.”

“Really? The poor old smith? Harsh.”

“I needed a weapon. I wasn’t going to let myself get killed like a dog by those traitorous cowards.”

“Of course,” said Talon. “Hard times for all.” They were of course referring to the backstory that I totally had planned from the start. The backstory in which Pike belongs to an ancient lineage of knights, who defended a magical Hidden City in the far North. Of course, that all changed one day, when a single man appeared from foreign lands, cut through the knights and destroyed the city. The knights become outlaws, and were either killed or forced to flee. Pike and Talon, of course, somehow made the impossible crossing through the Mountains of Death and into the Western Continent. Pretty interesting, huh?

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

“Moving on,” said Talon. “It’s a real nice sword, isn’t it?”

“Yep,” Pike said. “Pretty handy.”

“And what does it do, exactly? I head it drinks the very souls of those that are slain upon its edges.”

Pike shook his head. “Don’t think so. If I cut a man with this, a part of his stamina is drained out of him and given to me. So long as I inflict wounds, I never have to worry about my strength giving out in a battle.”

Talon nodded enthusiastically. “Very nice… and is that all it does?”

“Well… one other thing I found, in times when things got really hairy, I can pierce myself with it and offer my own blood. Somehow, it makes me nearly unstoppable, but it hurts like and hell and comes with a killer hangover, so I try not to rely on it.”

“Interesting… that’s the things with such… objects. They tend to surprise you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I just begin to wonder… the true potential of that sword of yours. I should very much like to buy it off you one day.”

“I’ll think about it…” Pike tied a small satchel of food to his belt. It wasn’t a lot, but Pike was pleased to have something that wasn’t dwarf mushroom. “Good seeing you again Talon, but I better get going.”

“Indeed, well I better not keep you. I’ll be heading out with the vanguard tomorrow morning. I suppose I’ll see you again once you catch this old rogue.”

Pike shook Talon’s hand. “Don’t hold your breath. I’ll find this ranger soon enough.”

“I’m certain you will.”

A little while later, Pike was beyond the outskirts of Hargrave and in the woods, lighting a small fire in a dark clearing. He didn’t have to wait long before a large shadow swept overhead, and the shape of Wudu fell lightly onto the grass with her feathered cloak about her shoulders. Her bright yellow eyes shone curiously at Pike.

“Trollsalyer? What happened in there?” she asked. “Where is Erasmus?”

“Resting,” Pike crossed his arms over his chest. “I let them think we were mercenaries, so he’ll be safe for now. But we have another problem.”

“Oh?” Wudu cocked her head to one side.

“It’s Ruadh, he’s alive, but barely. Somehow the old fart got himself captured. He escaped, but they hurt him bad.”

“Then, those patrols were looking for him.”

Pike nodded. “We don’t have much time. They haven’t found him yet, but he can’t have got very far, and the goblins march tomorrow. They’ll have their vanguard ride ahead to clear the way all the land between here and the rangers. We better hurry up and find him, before they do.”

“But what about Erasmus?”

“They’ll keep him in town. We can go back for him later, but right now we might as well do something useful. You can fly ahead and find Ruadh, right?”

“Of course I can.” Wudu wrapped the cloak tighter about herself, her body contorting. “Don’t get lost, Trollslayer. Even a ranger can’t survive in the wilderness long without fire. I’ll find him in no time.” With that, she took wing, and was gone.

“You’ve been a great help Wudu,” said Pike, ominously. “A great help…”