“Fecking feckless Mages. I told them. The one rule of the Badlands. Never use magic. But the Resonating bastards never listen, do they?”

Punol swore angrily to himself as he lead the group in a wild dash away from the group of Bigs that had spotted them.

“Master Scout! Where are we headed? The ponies can’t take this pace much longer!” Ginara’s voice reached him, from behind.

“There’s a river not far over here. If we can get enough of a lead before we get there, we can hide our scent in it then make a break. That should be enough to lose them.” He shouted in reply.

They continued their wild ride in silent concentration. Punol looked behind them repeatedly, trying to judge how far away the mob of monsters was. He couldn’t see them, but he thought he could hear their roars other the pounding of the ponies feet on the rough ground. Looking ahead, he saw the glint of the river, passing into a forest.

“There!” he shouted back to the others, as he angled his mount towards it. “If we get there fast enough, we should be fine.”

They galloped as fast as the ponies underneath them could manage. By the time they reached the river and dashed their ponies into it, Punol could no longer hear any sound of the monsters chasing them, but he knew better than to think they had given up. He quickly led his pony up the river, moving deeper into the forest.

“Follow me, and don’t let your ponies move into the centre of the river. It’s shallow enough here, but it drops off quickly. Single file!” he shouted as he saw one of the mages guards try to move up to ride beside the female mage, who was riding directly behind him. The other mage was behind the guard, with the other two guards that the mage had brought with them behind him. Traymon was bringing up the rear, with two more scouts from the from the Ragged Edge Company.

They rode upstream for a few minutes, before Punol found the rocky shore he was looking for. He stopped his pony, letting the others crowd up behind him.

“Alright, we cross here. I’ll go first to make sure it’s clear and start making one false path on that side. Liaz, Hinta, you make a false path going off that way” he said, pointing to the nearest shore. “Make sure you make it big and messy.”

“Sure thing, boss!” Hinta grinned at him. She was a short, squat woman, with raggedly black hair and a narrow, gentle face. Her brother was almost an exact copy of her, although they both claimed to not be twins.

“No problem, boss-man. We know what to do” Liaz agreed.

The two scouts moved up the shore, riding their ponies in random paths and circles before heading off into the forest in single file. As they did, Punol spurred his pony into action, heading across the river at a slight angle against the current. He reached the rocky bank before turning to call back to the others.

“Aim your pony for about 10 yards upriver of here, as the current gets strong in the middle. Quickly now!”

The mages and their guards crossed the river quickly, most of them doing well and arriving at the right place, although Yarnis landed about 5 yards downriver, having failed to angle him pony enough. Seeing this, Punol swore again, before calling out.

“Traymon! You saw where he landed! Make sure you clean that up!”

Punol turned to the others and said “Now, you guys move upriver. Stay under the trees, so that you can’t be seen, but don’t stray far from the river, as were gonna cross back over soon. Just walk your ponies and we’ll catch up soon.”

The mages moved off, letting their ponies walk. Punol turned and retrieved a metal flask from his saddlebag. Opening it, he winced at the strong, acrid smell coming from it, then quickly kicked his pony into a trot and started directly into the forest. After 5 minutes, he dismounted and then turned, walking his horse back to the river. Picking up a branch from the ground that still had some leaves on it, he carefully wiped the ground behind them, obscuring the prints. By the time he reached the river, Traymon and the other two scouts had finished their tasks and were waiting for him. Hinta sneezed as he approached, then covered her nose.

“Really? Equigare piss? Do you have to use that?”

“Stop complaining,” he snapped at her. “You know it works best.”

“Orkus fur works just as well, and doesn’t reek so much,” she replied calmly, as was her nature.

“If it was just us, then I would have used it. But with the mages here, it’s not strong enough. Enough. Let’s go catch up. Traymon, you lead. I’ll bring up the rear. Liaz, you’re on clear up, Hinta, keep your eyes on the sides and make sure none of those feckless citiers strayed. And take my pony.”

“You got it, boss-man” Liaz replied, then they all headed up stream. Punol did a final sweep of bank, then carefully spilt a drop of the harsh smelling liquid onto the rocks by the shore, then firmly corked the bottle and then held it in the river for several seconds to get rid of the smell. Finally, he turned and headed after the others, carefully checking to make sure there were no marks of their passage. Finally, he caught up with the others and reclaimed his pony, moving to the front of the group.

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

“Now, lets go over the rules again, shall we?” he said sternly, while glaring at Yarnis. “One, do what I say, when I say it. No questions, no arguing. Two, DO NOT do any magic unless you check with me first. What part of that did you not understand?”

Yarnis glared back at him. “We were almost a mile away from them! How did they sense me?”

“The Bigs are all pretty sensitive to magic, and some types can sense it being used miles away.” Traymon interjected, before Punol could snap more.

“How do they do it, Master Scout?” Ginara asked.

“It’s because of the Badlands. Since there is such little magic here, they are extremely adapt at finding sources of it. They seem obsessed by it.” Punol answered her.

“Fascinating. They must have some way to detect it. If we could find out how they do it, just think of how we would change magic usage.”

“Later, Mage,” Punol told her. “We need to move. Now, go single file, staying behind me. We’re gonna head upriver another mile or two, then camp for a bit while I scout around.”

With that, he kicked his horse into a trot, moving through the forest. The others followed him quietly, with Traymon at the rear, hold a long branch, letting it bounce and move around freely.

“Master Traymon,” Ginara asked quietly. “What are you doing? Shouldn’t you sweep out the tracks?”

“We cannot do it all the time, Mage Ginara,” he replied cheerfully. “Right now, speed and distance are better than just hiding the tracks. The branch is from one of the trees from the forest, and I tied some beer fur to it. It disturbs the tracks enough that its not clear what passed down here, and the smell of the beer sticks to the ground. It won’t cover our smell completely, but if they are still tracking us by smell, then it doesn’t matter anyway.”

“You are saying that the monsters can track? Doesn’t that imply intelligence?” Yarnis asked, grumpily, but in a better tone than he normally used.

“Don’t confuse these things for the monsters you have encountered before. The Smalls may act more like beasts, but the Bigs have at least enough intelligence to maintain a tribal nature. They all typically have their own territories, which is why we are heading this way. The territories seem to bunch up as you get further in, so unless they have a strong scent, they will typically stop chasing if you can get into another groups territory.”

“Yeah, that’s the first thing you learn as a Guide. Never run out of the Badlands. The feckers will chase you near enough all the way back to civilisation if you do that.” Liaz chimed in cheerily.

“Fascinating. Even a basic tribal nature speaks of a cooperation that shouldn’t be possible for monsters. All the literature that we have at the Academy claims that they are closer to animals than people.” Ginara murmured.

“Oh, yeah, most of them are. It’s only the Homegares that have this level of intelligence, and it’s only the ones in the Badlands, at least as far as we know.” Hinta told her. “Leastwise, the ones here do. I’ve never been to the other Badlands, but Punol has.”

“Master Scout? Is that true? You have travelled the other Badlands?” Ginara called out gently.

“Not all of them,” Punol called back, without turning to look at them. “I’ve been to the South-West Badland though, a handful of times. The companies there say the same thing though. They seem to have the same basic culture, although they look different.”

“Ohh? What do you mean?”

Punol thought for a moment before replying “well, the ones here have a range of colours, but they’re all mainly shades of green. But the ones over there almost seem blue, rather than green. And they are more likely to have horns, while the ones here don’t often, apart from the older ones.”

“Hmm, fascinating. You say they have the same behaviours? That sounds more like a sophisticated culture, not tribal groups. This is amazing! Why is this sort of thing not more commonly known? All the records we have of them describe them as virtual animals.”

“Ha! Sounds like your fancy Academy records are wrong. No one who works for a Company would describe them as animals. Some people here even thing they are another intelligent race, although anyone dumb enough to try and communicate with them dies right quick.” Punol said.

“Anyway, this will do,” he said, as he stopped his pony. You all stay here a bit and rest the ponies. Make sure you rub them down! I’ll go back across the river and see what’s what. Traymon! You’re in charge. I’ll probably be a few hours, so we’ll camp here tonight unless I find something. Start a campsite, but don’t get out anything that we can’t leave behind. I might be in a rush when I get back.”

With that, Punol dismounted and handed the reins to Liaz, who had moved up next to him. Then, checking his pack and bow were secure, he moved down to the riverbank slowly. He had chosen this spot because it was a spot where the river narrowed and was shallower here, with a small set of rapids. He carefully crossed the river and headed into the forest on the other side. He spent an hour looking for signs of the Bigs, but found none. Satisfied, he looked around for a good camp site, soon finding a small clearing, that had space for a decent camp site. Pleased, he headed back to the others.

“Alright, pack it up. I found somewhere better,” he said as he approached them. The others had tied the horses up, and were sitting down, talking quietly. As he finished, they stood and he lead them off to the clearing he had found.

“It’s about 10 minutes into the forest. It’ll do as a base for a few days at least.”

“Ohh? You mean for us to remain in these woods for that long, Master Scout?”

“The woods aren’t that big, so its not too far from the edge. It’s also a good place for us to scout around and find a target for you.”

“So, you believe that this task can be done? I thought you were against it.”

“I am, Mage. But that’s the job. We’ll camp tonight, then tomorrow we’ll look for signs of a lone Small. If we can’t find one, perhaps we can find a small group that doesn’t have any Bigs with it.” Punol replied then spat.

“But don’t get your hopes up. I’m still hoping that once you see the groups, you’ll understand how stupid this whole thing is and give up.”

“That is not possible, Master Scout. I must take one back. My orders demand it.”

Punol scowled at her.

“Fine, Mage. We’ll do it your way, but don’t blame me when you find a Big tearing your arm off to beat you with it.”

With that final comment, he moved ahead, into the growing dark.