No more than a half a minute passed before the first of his pursuers tore through the edge of the clearing, followed by a further seven in short order. All were breathing heavily, their skin glistening with sweat. All eight, including the two females, were topless and had their chests painted with a dark gray mud. A sign of the Trehn’Qualt tribe.

Each of them stood more than a head taller than Bato, with long and lanky limbs. Their shoulders were disproportionately wide, while their waist and hips seemed to toe the edge of what was minimally required to hold them upright. The sides of their hips, thighs and upper arms were made of a scaly, shiny black material split into small geometric shapes that would allow the limbs to move unabated. The same build that all hunters had, save Bato.

A piece of cloth around their waist held just enough cloth to hide their groin, and a few had a small piece of Kiichi hide over this spot as protection. Two of them carried the strange “recurve” bow their tribe made on occasion, while the rest carried several javelins and heavy battle axes. As they fanned out around Bato, out of reach of his own weapons, the largest of them stepped forward, a long and solid greatsword clutched in his hand.

“Bato. Why am I not surprised to find you behind the death of a god?”

“Then they are not gods, Krone’Dahl.“ This was the last man Bato had wanted to see.

“Then you do not deny killing it?” Krone’Dahl called loudly, raising his arms and looking around at his comrades. Angry scowls darkened their faces as they adjusted the grips on their weapons.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh? If you had no knowledge on the matter I spoke of, how could you give such a specific response?”

“I’m simply guessing that whatever it is you are speaking of, you are ill informed on the matter. Gods do not die Krone” Bato spat, trying to keep the tension out of his voice. He was unsure if he could talk his way out of this. The Trehn’Qualt were not known for their willingness to forgive blasphemers.

“And yet you carry the scent of the dying gods' flame, and a little one in all black over your shoulder. I have met your people at the gathering before, none dressed in such an unpleasant manner. Where did you find her, and why are you running away so desperately? Surely you would not claim complete ignorance.”

“Scavenging, as alway. Your people have never had a problem with me before when I crossed your territory. Why have you suddenly taken an interest in me now?” Bato put on his best offended air.

“I see,” Krone’Dahl responded with the beginnings of a wicked grin twisting his mouth. “So you claim to have no knowledge of what has occurred. Then I shall tell you.” Spreading his arms wide and looking to the sky, he proclaimed “A God of the Trehn’Qualt has been brought down! Its body spat great plumes of acrid smoke as the heavens reclaimed its flesh, and the warriors from its stomach were angered as they searched the woods nearby!”

“Now clearly, you had nothing to do with this. It’s only circumstantial evidence that would suggest you were, at the very least, in the vicinity of the god’s body. We picked up on your trail nearby and tracked you from well within our territory. Now my brothers here have said that you have broken the treaty of the four, and as such, we are within our rights to execute you. But I am not an inconsiderate man, and I too have been in the wrong place at the wrong time. So I shall give you the opportunity.” He turned to face Bato again, raising a single arm to point at Bato’s prize.

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“Where did you find the little one?”

The wicked grin had grown as he spoke, until his whole face was twisted up in a gruesome sneer. He knew what he was doing. It wouldn’t take much to get his allies to play along with whatever story he concocted. Bato glanced up to see the girl twisted around in his arm, watching the conversation with nervous eyes.

“It does not matter where she comes from. She is my prize, and mine alone,” Bato rumbled, dropping his voice menacingly.

“Oh but it does matter!” Krone’Dahl yet again raised his arms. “If she came from the belly of our gods, we must protect her! As the guardians of the great Voltan Sea, barrier to the home of the gods, it is our duty. Your people have agreed to that, have they not?”

“What would they want with her? The intruders look nothing like us.”

“I had hoped you would refrain from such…derogatory terms as intruders when speaking of the divine warriors.”

“Derogatory? What do you call an unwanted person in your house? Or a tribe that takes game from your land?”

“They would be labeled poachers and punished under the laws of the Treaty of the Four.”

“Now you are just arguing semantics. A poacher and intruder are the same.”

“And you are trying to divert. You have yet to answer my questions, Bato, and I am losing my patience.”

“I have already answered you. Are the Trehn’Qualt all so hard of hearing, or is that only a sign of their leaders?”

Krone’Dahls face finally cracked, his smug appearance giving way to a snarl. His knees bent in and his arms tensed.

“I have tried to be as accommodating to the situation as possible. You have seen as much, my brothers. But this failure of a hunter from the Trehn’Valya remains uncooperative. With no new information I must act upon what I believe to be a crime upon my people. In the name of Moor’Qual, divine guardian of the Trehn’Qualt, I challenge you to mortal combat. If you are free of crime, the gods will see to your victory.”

“And if I refuse?”

“Your refusal is all the evidence we need.” The gleeful smile was infuriating to see.

Bato knew this was the likely outcome as soon as the other man had revealed himself. The only option left was to somehow win against a far more experienced and accomplished fighter. He slowly lowered his captive to the ground, never pulling his eyes from his opponent.

“You,” Krone’Dahl spat to the hunter on his right, “grab the little one and keep her out of this fight. I will not be long.”

The man called to was exceptionally tall, even amongst hunters. He rolled his brutish shoulders and handed his weapon off before stepping forward. His hands were held up before him, a sign of non-aggression in these sorts of dealings. Bato was reluctant to let the girl go, his hand lingering on her shoulder momentarily. But he had to, or he would be unable to fight. She, too, seemed to resist going before ultimately falling in line.

“My brothers, do not let this man escape, but do not interfere. The gods do not smile kindly on cowardice in any form.”

Bato felt his lip pull back. Calm, do not let him get to you. Emotions would not serve him here. His response was to reach to the large, rectangle of metal on his back, grabbing the middle handle and lifting it free. He whipped it forward, down and up, pulling a large trigger near his pointer finger. The whole affair split down the center lengthwise, and the top half swung free before clunking into place. A blade popped out the side of the upper half, leading to the reveal of a nearly seven foot broadaxe. Krone’Dahl blinked rapidly, momentarily silenced by the sight. He quickly regained himself, snarling.

“For someone who does not believe them to be gods, you sure love to mimic their actions.”

“I like to think of it as informed innovation,” Bato flashed a wicked grin back.

“Your innovation will be your undoing!” Krone’Dahl bellowed as he leapt forward.