Celtris Tales: Small Packages Chapter 6: Hunted

Small Packages: Hunted

Thankfully Luca called a halt. Marius dismounted quickly and started stripping Kane of gear. Even with Marius having stripped to his riding leathers and loading up Seline, since Luca rode Calia today, and even with the magic Luca used to ease their run, the pack had been ridden hard today.

The poor wolf was lathered in sweat and would need some water. It was why Luca halted, the water was clear and the stream was small and lined with rock. It looked like a tended water source. Behind it were dozens of hills, with the tall grass and the stream to hide their scent this could well end the chase.

Unfortunately one of that burn scarring patrol lickspittles managed to blow a trouble horn before he was dispatched. The orcs poured out of their Fort like five thousand angry ants. The empire’s war machine was a well oiled one as they splintered into formation based search parties working a grid pattern within a dozen or so minutes from the fight.

After the second time being spotted, they agreed to ride to try and gain some distance. Luca hated dismissing Iz but it was the only way. The trium of war boar mounted ranger trackers caused another merry chase. Marius had to waste another three charges from his web wand and Luca the majority of their pepper to lose that unit.

The last chase was by an air cutter. The small skyship was fairly fast and carried enough archers to ruin a good gnome’s day. Some light tree cover and an obscuring mist spell was their last bit of salvation. The wolves had been running at top speed for nearly three hours since then. Twice Marius laid hands calling on his paladin powers to ease the fatigue of each of the wolves, as Luca casts a spells to lend them strength.

Wolves were sprinters not distance runners. They could cover serious ground by utilizing an efficient trot but what they endured today was very different, the chases had really put a strain on them. Marius moved to attend Calia as Luca finished recalling Iz. Something in his brother’s posture made Marius a little extra leery. He scanned the area feverously fearing he was missing some kind of threat. Luca’s attitude was echoed by the wolves, as they whined slightly and cowered a little lower to the ground after they drank deeply of the stream.

Marius was unsure when his blade came out, but he suddenly understood the tension as his spine chilled and straightened and the hair on his neck rose. Something unnatural was nearby, something contrary to the idyllic scene before him.

“Hello,” Marius ventured in a normal voice that felt like a shout. It was then he realized what was wrong. He could hear the burbling of the stream but nothing else. No insect buzzed or birds making their songs. No frogs, no crickets, just a quiet foreboding.

Luca merged with Iz but remained silent. They all stood on their heels for a long moment, waiting. Then Marius realized he heard a new sound, a buzzing. The sound was getting closer.

“Pyrite,” Luca swore, “I know where we are.”

Marius then spotted the source of the buzzing, some sort of cattle like creature which was also clearly dead as its ribs were clearly visible and sun bleached shambled towards them. A rather large wasp hive filled in the spaces where it’s guts used to be.

“They weren’t trying to catch us. The orcs herded us here, into the famine king’s burial mounds,” Luca said this with almost a reverent tone.

The zombified bull sauntered into a position with a direct line to their own and waited.

Luca walked forward and insanely began to shout at the zombie, “I humbly request passage through your lands, great famine king. I would but request passage for myself and my companions and offer in tribute my brother’s wand of webs. Do you accept?”

To Marius’ horror the bull nodded.

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Celtris Tales: Small Packages Chapter 5 Slaver's Galley

Small Packages: Slaver’s Galley

Having activated Defiance’s larger form Valen managed to whirl the double mace like a bo staff to simultaneously block a coordinated number two (high left) strike and number ten (low right) strike, and side step the follow up number 8 (deep lunge) but not the rapid roundhouse kick follow up Jared loaded a cold punching snowball spell strike that rocked him back on his heels. The old man was serious today. Valen recovered his wits in time to see Jared complete a spell that created a half dozen illusionary doubles of the famed hero.

“You fight well my son, but you seem to think that matters. Your enemies will not wait to see if you’re ready to fight, they will simply look for the most expedient way to kill you.”

Valen spun Defiance again like a bo-staff and launched into a spinning assault that would offer him many strikes at the price of true momentum, it cleared all but one of the illusions solidly connecting with his father’s  shoulder with perhaps too hard a clip. Jared vanished in that moment to reappear with the tip of his rapier two inches deep under Valen’s floating rib.

Unapologetically, Jared withdrew his blade and flicked of his foster son’s blood. “Take a healing potion and fetch one for me while you’re at it. You need to stop relying on your eyes so much my son, or some clever spire mage will kill you one day.”

The words were a gentle but serious rebuke. Valen realized two things in that moment, it was the first time he had ever hit his adoptive father in a sparring match, and that his father had was pushing him harder today with a purpose.

“Something is wrong?” Valen had never been a man of many words, words came awkwardly to his lips. He preferred silent action, monks in his order rarely spoke.

Jared nodded. Before he could explain a messenger burst into the practice courtyard.

“General Ambassador, pardon my interruption but there’s a slaver ship on its way to the harbor.”

Jared’s face darkened, with deadly swift grace that Valen had heard tales of but never witnessed from his father, the half elf half goblin sheathed his blade into his walking cane, made a number of practiced arcane somatic motions and ran out toward the harbor casting spells as he moved.

Valen had seen his father shirtless enough times to know the brutal lash marks on his back, the brand on his ribs, and the deadly serious glint in his father’s eyes when the subject of slavery was broached. Jared had been a slave early in his life and few things infuriated him more thoroughly.

The bards told tales of Jared freeing himself from the southern slavers. His full elf wife was a former slave the hero had freed. Many of his men were once slave troops or caravan guards effectively stuck in a cycle of debt akin to slavery. He had fled north and begged sanctuary in Briar Hills for the price slaver’s had put on his head. Jared was worth six figures to those men, it would end up being the low bid compared to what the Imperium was willing to pay.

Jared became Briar Hill’s greatest hero. He was the high general of their armies and chief ambassador. At one point a mercenary company form the southern cities came to collect the reward on Jared’s head and their ships were burned in the harbor of Briar Hills. Since then no slave ship had dared enter halfling territory.

Valen raced after his father. No slaver would dare try to dock in the harbor, Jared was famous for what he did to slavers as he was for anything else. Valen fished a potion out of the pack he carried, it would lend him speed. He would likely have to fight his own father in more earnest if he was to prevent a terrible mistake. There was only one reason a slaver ship would harbor in Briar Hills, that reason being it wasn’t piloted by slavers.

Valen watched his adoptive father’s mental decline with silent distress. In the moment the man was deadly and sharp and with a little coaxing he could match wits with any foe, but his short term memory was declining and sometimes he acted rashly to cover for his deficiencies. Today that could mean the death of innocents, Valen buckled down and ran faster.

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Celtris Tales: Small Packages Chapter 1 Luca

Small Packages: Luca

Luca awoke with a familiar sickening panic. His eyes scanned the area for Marius on reflex to see if the fool had fallen asleep on watch again. Sometimes his eyes would meet his dutiful brother’s and Luca would feel a pang of fleeting remorse, then the routine would take over.This time his eyes found Marius' back which was just as well. Luca kept to his rituals and ran a mental inventory, confirming that he could still feel and move all his extremities.  The wasting sickness stalked him like a thief, halted but never cured. If it returned he’d typically lose grip first, then his limbs, his ability to eat, to speak, and ultimately to breathe. His mind would remain sharp as his body became an inert prison. It was a terrifying sickness.

On an intellectual level Luca knew his brother would never fall asleep on watch again, it simply was not in Marius’ character to be so careless. The paladin had not tried dwarven spirits before that night and he only had a normal tankard full. Not only had Marius apologized, he had sworn off drinking all together. Luca just couldn’t help resenting his dependence on Marius.

The healer's amulet had halted the wasting sickness seven years ago, Luca’s slow appointment with invalidity and death had been forestalled, but his brother knew as well as he did that without more potent magic, Luca was living on borrowed time. The disease was still inside of him and could be triggered by any number of environmental factors.

A magic belt lent Luca the strength to move without assistance, though not without pain, and he was clumsy. Another magic trinket reduced Luca’s need to sleep and entirely removed the need to eat. It meant that once he merged with his Eidolon, he need not dismiss it to take a meal, or take a trip to the jakes. It meant that the amount of time a child could overpower him was reduced to two hours and a little over a minute every day.

A silent act of will and a single murmur of Iz’s name, would summon the otherworldly being that Luca wore like armor. When joined with Iz’s body his mind was no longer locked into a prison of weakness, ruin, and pain. Despite its fragile appearing translucence, Iz’s body moved with speed and power. It was almost enough.

Luca didn’t like to think about women, or more specifically one woman. There was no point in pursuing something that is so far out of reach, and she had married a few years ago. Nothing is more haunting than a kiss. Even one given out of pity.

Luca banished that line of thinking and focused on the body he had shaped with the force of his will and the bond with an otherworldly presence. When he was one with Iz he could feel the faint glimmer of a mind that was somehow distant yet content to be joined. To be whole was joy for both.

Luca rose, “get some rest Marius, tomorrow we leave this easy road for a war zone.”

Marius hunkered down with the wolves. Barely articulating a “thanks brother” before falling into a deep slumber. Like many traits Marius took for granted, Luca envied him for his ability to simply carelessly sleep. Luca’s mind was usually too loud and it took a good half hour to quietly sort his thoughts. He loved his brother, needed his brother, envied his brother, and hated his brother all at once. Cold reason battered away a deadly urge. It would be so easy.

Luca fled that line of thinking and got moving to check his trap lines. Luca left little to chance and set an elaborate series of warning and snare traps. The snares usually caught small game and served a secondary function in that they could trip up a stealthy approach if they went unnoticed. Then there were the dagger rakes, step on one of them and a dagger rose rapidly to stab the victim in the leg, they were outlaid in a secondary circle. Marius learned the pattern the hard way after a couple incidents.

On an intellectual level Luca knew that his brother was actually of about the average intelligence level, but he could not help finding fault in his brother’s mental abilities. Both brothers had their mother’s charm and looks, but Luca seemed to inherit all of his father’s magus wit while Marius just had his physical grace.

Luca avoided the subject of their parent’s death. Marius remembered the fire if not the cause. The failed rebellion of Lesh didn’t have a right side and telling Marius what happened would just repurpose him from useful to a creature of vengeance.

The snares yielded four rabbits, Luca would skin and cook one for Marius before dawn, he casually tossed the wolves one each raw. Less time wasted that way.

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