The luminous aura of the fading sunset dipped into the shadows of the mountains as Larxan gave one final look to the scenic valley that now stood below him. There wouldn't be many travellers on this road after nightfall and the village that he had called home for the past 25 years grew silent, smoke trickling from the fires of hungry workers coming back to their families.
Greyback, his steed and companion for the last 3 years grew restless, his owner seemed unable to carry out the journey that had been planned for months. The master sighed and tugged his reins, pulling them forward into the cracked road that would be their path for the night. It had been years since he had been called to service but such was the life Larxan had chosen. Solitude and skill were two words that over the years had been brain washed into him and the 4 other souls like him. He dug his shoes into the side of Greyback's saddle, urging him to make haste for their mission was one of essence. The horse shifted from a stride to gallop, the fields blurring past them as the night swallowed the hills into darkness.
It would be midnight by the time they stopped, the aura of moonlight lighting their path to a grove where they would break for the day. Larxan unfastened the heavy saddle as his horse neighed a sign of relief, beginning to unpack the make-shift camp; light weaved through the thick redwood branches creating a spectral-light appearance. Flints were produced, and a small fire heated the pair's meagre dinner. The chill began to settle as Larxan wrapped his weather-worn cloak around him, nestled close to the burning embers that grew whiter in the night. The sound of shuffled footsteps drew near.
The figure approached, taller than most, his shrouded face slowly unveiled by the now white hot ash of the previously roaring fire. The man gestured to the ground next to Larxan, indicative of sharing the space for the night; Larxan scowled but relented, offering the man the remnants of Greyback's meal. The stranger broke into a crooked smile, his wrinkled face excited by the prospect of food. "Crodeus", the man barked, before wolfing down the meal.
"Haven't met too many travellers on this path of late", Crodeus grunted, focused on consuming the scrap of foods now lodged between his grimy nails, "City folk mainly take the road past Harshmollow Creek to avoid the wolves that roam these parts". "That's a fine beast you have there", he motioned to Greyback who clearly seemed feral to the newcomer; "Bet he'd fetch a pretty penny over in Sardonia".
"Is that so?" Larxan questioned, ignoring the latter comment and speaking for the first time since the two met, "And then where do you fit in?", his voice unforgiving in the night air. The stranger seemed not to take offence and prattled on, pleased in his own mind that this fool had stopped, already envisioning the gold he'd receive for Greyback after plundering the person who offered him his meal. "I am what you would call an acquirer, I take what is owed to me". He motioned Larxan to the glistening dagger that was neatly hidden in his robe fold.
Larxan seemed unperturbed by the weapon,"People are always fighting for what is not. Wars fought for land that belonged to others, blood shed for women and gold, champions battling to defend their title. There was a time when good and evil attacked with honour. Virtue held in the days of old. Time has changed sadly; there are those like you, parasites who prey on weak and scavenge the good", his voice held steady despite the rapid pace of delivery. The man with the dagger seemed irked, word stung more than blades. A broken smile appeared on his scarred face momentarily as he lunged at Larxan.
A glimpse of silver was all the warning that Crodeus was given before 12 inches of steel burrowed through his jaw killing him instantly. The man was dead before he collapsed onto the ground, blood darkening the earth, soaking into the grass now wet with dew. Larxan unhinged his blade from the figure, wiping it down on the wet grass before attaching his saddle. The horse seemed indifferent by the deadman, a sight that had been common over the years he had been with Larxan.
It was cold now, the fog swallowing the two as they drifted into the distance leaving behind the man that had been alive only moments before. A cloak preserved the now motionless body as a single note lay arched onto it. Figures shifted in the bushes, their paws wet from the mountain run, hungry for the dinner that had been provided. The moonlight glistened softly, shedding light onto the viscous ruby blood, as the letters on the parchment began to glow...
Greyback, his steed and companion for the last 3 years grew restless, his owner seemed unable to carry out the journey that had been planned for months. The master sighed and tugged his reins, pulling them forward into the cracked road that would be their path for the night. It had been years since he had been called to service but such was the life Larxan had chosen. Solitude and skill were two words that over the years had been brain washed into him and the 4 other souls like him. He dug his shoes into the side of Greyback's saddle, urging him to make haste for their mission was one of essence. The horse shifted from a stride to gallop, the fields blurring past them as the night swallowed the hills into darkness.
It would be midnight by the time they stopped, the aura of moonlight lighting their path to a grove where they would break for the day. Larxan unfastened the heavy saddle as his horse neighed a sign of relief, beginning to unpack the make-shift camp; light weaved through the thick redwood branches creating a spectral-light appearance. Flints were produced, and a small fire heated the pair's meagre dinner. The chill began to settle as Larxan wrapped his weather-worn cloak around him, nestled close to the burning embers that grew whiter in the night. The sound of shuffled footsteps drew near.
The figure approached, taller than most, his shrouded face slowly unveiled by the now white hot ash of the previously roaring fire. The man gestured to the ground next to Larxan, indicative of sharing the space for the night; Larxan scowled but relented, offering the man the remnants of Greyback's meal. The stranger broke into a crooked smile, his wrinkled face excited by the prospect of food. "Crodeus", the man barked, before wolfing down the meal.
"Haven't met too many travellers on this path of late", Crodeus grunted, focused on consuming the scrap of foods now lodged between his grimy nails, "City folk mainly take the road past Harshmollow Creek to avoid the wolves that roam these parts". "That's a fine beast you have there", he motioned to Greyback who clearly seemed feral to the newcomer; "Bet he'd fetch a pretty penny over in Sardonia".
"Is that so?" Larxan questioned, ignoring the latter comment and speaking for the first time since the two met, "And then where do you fit in?", his voice unforgiving in the night air. The stranger seemed not to take offence and prattled on, pleased in his own mind that this fool had stopped, already envisioning the gold he'd receive for Greyback after plundering the person who offered him his meal. "I am what you would call an acquirer, I take what is owed to me". He motioned Larxan to the glistening dagger that was neatly hidden in his robe fold.
Larxan seemed unperturbed by the weapon,"People are always fighting for what is not. Wars fought for land that belonged to others, blood shed for women and gold, champions battling to defend their title. There was a time when good and evil attacked with honour. Virtue held in the days of old. Time has changed sadly; there are those like you, parasites who prey on weak and scavenge the good", his voice held steady despite the rapid pace of delivery. The man with the dagger seemed irked, word stung more than blades. A broken smile appeared on his scarred face momentarily as he lunged at Larxan.
A glimpse of silver was all the warning that Crodeus was given before 12 inches of steel burrowed through his jaw killing him instantly. The man was dead before he collapsed onto the ground, blood darkening the earth, soaking into the grass now wet with dew. Larxan unhinged his blade from the figure, wiping it down on the wet grass before attaching his saddle. The horse seemed indifferent by the deadman, a sight that had been common over the years he had been with Larxan.
It was cold now, the fog swallowing the two as they drifted into the distance leaving behind the man that had been alive only moments before. A cloak preserved the now motionless body as a single note lay arched onto it. Figures shifted in the bushes, their paws wet from the mountain run, hungry for the dinner that had been provided. The moonlight glistened softly, shedding light onto the viscous ruby blood, as the letters on the parchment began to glow...
