A dark leather boot hit the wet ground, splashing mud everywhere. The sounds of heavy breathing and muttering chatter echoed in the background. In a nearby puddle there was a hooded reflection, the only features of note were two sharp grey eyes like daggers, staring down into the murky waters. The cloaked figure marched onward, followed by another. The other one was big, their arm's bulk straining against their clothing. The hood was off, showing a masculine face. He had a square jaw, green eyes with blond hair set lika a lion's mane. He looked to be a man in his early 30's.
As he reached next to his companion he grunted and muttered, not used to lowering his voice.
"So you never said... Why're you joinin' th' Hunt?"
The hooded figure's grey eyes glanced over. A lowered voice replied.
"The choice wasn't mine to make."
The big man flinched a bit, as the other's tone was filled with venom. He rubbed the back of his neck and seemed apologetic.
"Sorry 'bout that. Presumed you were one of those well off folk, seein' you dressin' so nice an' all. Made me think you were doin' it outta free will."
The other person sighed and lifted off their hood revealing a younger man, looking to be in his mid twenties. His face had softer features. He had brown curly hair that was slightly unkempt. There were dark circles under his eyes. Fatgue obvious on his face. he turned his head.
"Just because I live in a well off estate, doesn't mean I have any status. Especially when you're an unwanted bastard."
The big guy winced, he realised saying anything at this point was just inviting trouble. The grey eyed man sighed again, running his gloved fingers through his hair.
"Look, I understand you want to talk. But lets leave conversations about the past out of it, Blake."
The big guy, Blake, nodded, looking sheepish.
"Sorry 'bout that Kyler. Ma' said t' always be polite an' all. 'Specially th' noble folk."
Kylar looked exasperated. Eyes glancing over Blake's clothing, then his own, he noticed the difference. He had shiny leather armour with a green cloak on, the only blemish being on his left shoulder where there seemed to be a torn patch for the coat of arms. Blake's on the other hand looked like a hand-me-down from a hunters family, it just barely fit. The only odd thing was the massive bow hefted over the big guy's shoulder. When Blake noticed the strange look Kyler was giving him, he glanced at his bow and nodded with a serious expression.
"Yeah, I'm goin' t' be a 'follower'. Figured me chance at beatin' the rest was nil. That's what I wanted t' ask you 'bout, can I be your 'follower'?"
Kyler paused midstride. His eyes widened a bit but then returned to normal. His lip curled upwards in a self-mocking way. He glanced around. They had left the forest and fields behind a while back. In front of them was now scorched earth and rock. Thankfully it rained recently, otherwise the smog would have been unberable. Further ahead in the distance, a moutain range loomed. It was ominous how they were shaped, like razor sharp fangs. He glanced back at Blake again.
"That sounds like a losing bet to me, one you shouldn't take. I noticed a few others much more well prepared and equpped than I. If you go over to them, I am sure they would be more than willing to take up your offer."
Kyler pointed to the side with his chin. beside them was a large convoy. It was a mishmash of people. Ranging from nobles wearing fullplate armour to farmers wielding sickles and hoes. The ones Kyler pointed at were the mercenaries. They had grizzled looks and wore plated leather. Although their weapons looked well used, the blades themselves glinted with a cold light reflecting how well maintained they were.
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Blake looked over for a while, but turned back while shaking his head.
"I don' feel safe round those folk. Ma' always told me t' always trust me gut. Me gut says t' stay near wit' you. It never lead me bad when I was huntin'. So I want t' follow you."
Kyler shook his head but didn't respond. For the short while he knew Blake, the one thing that was obvious was that when he made a decision, he stuck to it. Kyler just looked over his equipment. A small steel buckler, not really useful for anything, he brought it more to protect against falling rocks than anything threatening. He kept a dagger hidden in his cloak, for self defense. And lastly the longsword at his belt. He glared at it loathingly. It was the only 'gift' the estate left him with, even though it was his to begin with. More like they didn't care about it. He unsheathed it a bit, revealing a mottled black blade. No matter how it was cleaned the result was the same. He wiped his thumb over the edge. Nothing. He didn't even feel a thing.
"Useless."
That word he had muttered many times during the journey. It was filled with both the greatest hope and the deepest despair. Steel grey eyes stared down at the now sheatherd sword. In the past he had tried many times to break the sword, all times he'd failed. And no one wanted to buy a sword that can't even cut. It was also very heavy. Which frustrated him even more as he slogged through the muck while it weighed him down.
They walked for a good hour long before the caravan halted. Realising it was a break, Kyler heaved a sigh of relief, he wandered further away to find a rock to rest on, Blake following silently behind. Kyler was about to sit down when he saw blackened bones that looked broken as if dropped from a height. The skull was human, it looked straight up at him. Kyler paled.
"Fucking shit!"
In both fear and anger he kicked it. The skull shattered and an ash cloud burst up. Blake stared in bewilderment as Kyler started coughing.
"What's up wit' you boss?"
Kyler glared over, eyes filled with tears that were not only caused by the stinging sensation.
"What's wrong? What's wrong is that I should not even be here! A few seasons ago, the Duke made a new law. Every noble estate has to send one descendant from their household to participate for any Hunt. Yet I-"
Kyler choked, as if to speak the next sentence hurt him physically.
"I am not a legitimate descendant. So to avoid this recruitment those fucking rats... adopted me."
Blake looked confused, before he could say anything Kyler continued.
"There's a conditional rule that allows nobles to legitimize bastards if they are worried about a lack of heirs. They abused it in order to escape the conscription. I didn't want be part of that family, I was doing well enough on my own! Then they had to drag me into this!"
Kyler almost ran his throat raw, his tears run dry. Blake looked at him for a while and slowly opened his mouth.
"Me Ma's sick, said can't be cured without gettin' ingredients from th' Clan. But th' Clan don't sell t' no'one. Only way is t' be a clan member. Only one way t' get accepted by th' Clan."
Kyler stared a Blake, conflicting thoughts and emotions warring on his face. As he was about to speak Blake cut him off.
"Didn't ask for no pity boss. Is what it is. Same wit' you, nuthin' you can do 'bout it, 'cept roll with th' punches. We both have t' work together t' survive. So you need t' keep your head cool. Otherwise we die."
Kyler breathed deeply for a few moments. After releasing his breath, his eyes glinted in the dim light.
"You're right, nothing I can do about it. I still don't think there's much chance for us though. We'll need to see if there are any chances when we set camp."
Kyler also gave Blake another strange look.
"And don't call me boss."
Blake shrugged his shoulders.
"I'm your follower, your're th' boss."
Kyler just sighed.
Thery both sat down on the nearby rocks and chewed on their rations. After a while they noticed the convoy moving again and got up to continue the march. Another couple hours went by before they were near the mountain range. By this point the carts had all stopped and the people around started setting up camp as it was getting dark. By now Kyler and Blake had set up a borrowed tent that had been handed out.
As they lay down Kyler waited until Blake had fallen asleep before he held up his sword again, this time unwrapping the leather grip around the handle. It revealed a shiny gold handle leading to a glistening red gem on the pommel, it was articulately designed in contrast to its blade. As he stared into the last lights reflection, Kyler muttered.
"How the fuck am I supposed to slay a Dragon with this?"