Chapters:

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

While he never knew any of them, Captain Gren recognized each and every Emperor and King that had ruled in Ithliss very well. The stained glass windows of the Imperial Palace of Balbeen colored the light from the afternoon sun, casting the images of long-dead emperors and queens along the white floor. Stepping through the light, the young captain of the guard walked on the marble tiles. The long hallway echoed his quick footsteps and the captain nodded to each courtier as he passed.

Emperor Elda looked up from a stack of formal looking documents. Captain Gren was in his dress plate armor, black with gold lions adorning the shoulder plates and bracers. The young captain had dark hair, shaved close to his scalp. His skin was the color of fine, dark leather and he’d trimmed his beard just this morning.

“Speak, captain,” Emperor Elda sighed. The old man raised his head, his pointed beard slightly frazzled. The Imperial Majesty had dark circles under his eyes, lost sleep piling under his eyes. The salt and pepper hair on the emperor’s head was neatly cut, trimmed behind his old ears. Wearing a rich robe of blue and gold, the emperor only allowed a single piece of jewelry, the gold circlet around his head. Unlike many other lords in his court, Emperor Elda didn’t believe in unneeded embellishments.

“Your majesty,” Captain Gren bowed. “There are problems in the farming communities—“

“Yes, the lost livestock...”

“Begging your majesty’s pardon,” Captain Gren said. “The situation has become much more elevated.”

“Walk with me, Holem,” Emperor Elda stood from his throne. “That damn chair is so uncomfortable. A good metaphor for ruling...”

Captain Gren walked along side Emperor Elda. Exiting the Emperor’s chambers, Captain Gren walked between sets of marble and brass pillars, elegant designs crafted into the brass. Tapestries along the inner walls of the palace depicted scenes Captain Gren remembered from his history books: the humans first meeting the elves, the War of the Queens and the mythical war between the Good and Evil Fae that once controlled Ithliss’s magic. Turning, Captain Gren glanced out the palace windows, the wide openings letting substantial airflow into the outer chambers of the palace.

It was mid-day, gold and orange sunlight bathing the buildings in the early evening glow. A flock of brightly colored birds flew by, the shrill squawks competing with the long, tolling bells from the temple of the Sun God. There were other temples that could be seen, long spikes of stone work splitting the terrain of wooden and brick houses and shops. A few people were present in town, but they looked too small to make out their features from the emperor’s position. The Emperor paused and leaned against the stone railing, taking a deep breath of warm, spring air.

 “What are the farmers worried about, nephew?” Emperor Elda asked, after inhaling some of the fresh air coming from an open window. “Suppose we have a rough year for the livestock. That doesn’t mean the empire will starve. Draughts haven’t crumbled our empire. We have enough food to last—“

“It’s not about livestock anymore, emperor,” Captain Gren said. “People have started going missing.”

“How many?”

“Eight...in as many days.”

“You think it’s planned? Murders?”

“I don’t think so, your majesty,” Captain Gren shook his head. “The locals believe that the people are being taken, not just disappearing.”

“Have you sent men there?”

“I sent five men three days ago,” the captain said. “None of them have reported anything when they went. But people have still disappeared since then.”

“What are you asking of me?”

“They need more security. Military presence.”

Emperor Elda let out a long breath. “An army in the farms? We’re looking at panic...”

“I would take the panic in exchange for the security.”

Emperor Elda rubbed under his eyes, pulling at his groomed beard. “I’ll allow it. But only until we find a solution to this problem.”

“I’ll see to the matter personally.”

“You’ll need someone who knows that area.”

“I could always contact two of my regulars,” Captain Gren ventured.

“Lord Fereek does not care for those two.”

“I trust them. They’re—“

“Bounty Hunters.”

“They have more honor than any of Lord Fereek’s men,” Captain Gren announced. He closed his mouth and looked down in horror. “Forgive me, I speak out of turn.”

“Your honesty is why I chose you,” Emperor Elda nodded. “Lord Fereek has his own opinions. However, these...bounty hunters of yours. I trust your judgment. And their results speak for themselves. Yet, their methods are unorthodox.”

“I’m not questioning that. But they’re professional.”

Emperor Elda groaned, his face in a firm frown. “Contact them. If they find anything, we can pay them. But I don’t want to make a habit of hiring them as palace guards. Am I clear?”

“They wouldn’t be guards if we paid them a king’s ransom.”

“Do you know where they are now?”

“I believe they were hunting down Dahlem Daharas. I don’t know where he is, but I’m sure they’re not far behind.”

“Given their track record? I pity Daharas.”

ppp

Surrounded by swamp grass and muddy water, The Dog’s Daughter was located on the outskirts of Bernhelm. The wood used to construct the building was mostly found and tied together. Pieces of old ships, dismantled houses and old wagons were bound together with metal nails and rope. The sign for the tavern swung from a spinning wagon wheel. From the dim light of a few candles and torches by the door, a slim silhouette slipped into the pub.

Inside, the figure glanced around. A few tables littered the tavern, no two chairs matching in the rundown bar. A few drunkards sat at their various tables and one larger group in the back. The man at the counter wiped at the surface with a towel, trying to remove a stain only he could see.

The slim figure stepped up to the bar, draped in various furs stitched together into a rough cloak. The armor was made of leather, bits of bone providing extra support along the ribcage and forearms. A quiver of arrows swung from the silhouette’s waist with a finely crafted bow. A long blade, the length of the figure’s hand was incorporated into the grip, a powerful weapon for long range and a deadly tool in close quarters. The hood covering the slim figure’s face was a white-faced wolf, the lower jaw removed and the eyes replaced with smooth, grey stones.

“What’ll it be?” The barman asked, throwing the towel over his shoulder and putting a clay cup on the table.

“Hunlind Whiskey,” the young woman’s voice requested, placing the bow across the bar. “None of that Queen’s Isles wash.”

“A woman who knows her drinks,” the barman smiled, showing a few missing teeth. “I like it. A connoisseur?”

“Well travelled,” the woman replied, bringing the cup to her lips. She smelled the whiskey and savored the sense of smell.

“Anything else?”

“Daharas...where is he?”

“Who?”

Looking up from under her hood, the elf woman made eye contact with the barman. Piercing, green eyes gazed into his, like arrowheads. With the wolf’s hood drawn back, the elf’s long, teardrop ears and long, copper colored curls were more visible to the barman’s sight. Her face was angular, her high cheekbones and a long nose shaping her slim mouth. Intense and beautiful, the young woman glared at the man, the wolf’s eyes matching her terrifying stare.

“Dahlem Daharas,” the elf spoke, each syllable spoken clearly and slowly. “Where?”

“B-back table,” the barman pointed a shaking finger. “The bigger group.”

Glancing over her shoulder, the elf looked at the table in the back. One of the men matched Daharas’s description, from the shaved head to the broken nose. Downing the whiskey, the elf turned from the bar and dropped a small bag of gold on the table.

“What’s this for?” The man at the bar asked.

“Damages.”

Walking across the bar, the elf woman gripped her bow in her left hand, the sharpened edge extending above her hand like a dagger. The barman slipped under the bar, hiding from the coming danger. Walking through the bar, the wood creaked under the woman’s feet as she approached the loud group.

One of the men stepped forward. “Well, you’re looking lovely tonight, little wolf...”

The elf swung her arm quickly, putting her sharp blade against the man’s throat. “Eryn.”

“What?”

“My name...is Eryn. I’m not interested in you. The only one I want to talk to is Daharas.”

The bald man perked up when Eryn said his name. “Well, you found me.”

Eryn pushed the man in front of her, knocking him off his feet. “Dahlem Daharas,” she announced, pulling an arrow out of her quiver and approaching the group. “By order of Imperial Decree and the power granted to me by the Royal Guard, you are under arrest. For crimes including theft, rape, assault and murder. Come with me, now.”

“I’m quite comfortable here,” Daharas smiled, raising his large glass of ale. “Fine ale, good food...I’m in no mood to leave.”

The other men around the table stood and flexed. Some had swords or daggers, while two others sported crossbows and sharp bolts. Eryn counted five men and Daharas surrounding her. The single arrow in her bow might kill one, but one of the two crossbows would take her down quickly.

“I get paid by the head, gentlemen,” Eryn let out a deep breath. “I never signed paperwork to bring them attached.”

“In case you hadn’t noticed,” Daharas laughed. “I’m not alone here.”

“Neither am I,” Eryn grinned. She whistled in a high pitch, the sound unlike any bird or beast she knew of. The door slammed open, almost falling off the hinges. The hulking creature standing in the doorway balanced on two, heavy hooves and powerful bull legs supporting the humanoid torso. Despite the light brown fur that covered the body and the simple armor over his shoulders, most of the giant beast’s chest was exposed with thin scars from a lifetime of battle presenting themselves to the crowd. His hips were covered by a kilt of brown cloth with a black belt holding the fabric in place. The bull’s head sat on a thick neck and broad, muscular shoulders. The giant creature’s left horn was missing, broken off by force and blackened at the break. The minotaur tightened his grip on the battle-axe in his fists and cracked his neck.

“So,” Eryn looked back to a startled looking Daharas and held out a pair of manacles. “Easy way? Or do we get Brell involved?”

Daharas sighed and stood from the table and pulled out a long dagger and twisted the blade in his hand. “Kill them both. Bring me the bull’s head for a trophy.”

 Eryn rushed backward, rolling backwards over a table and flipping it on the side for cover. Two crossbow bolts embedded themselves into the table. “Thirty count!”

Brell threw a chair, sending the furniture piece across the tavern. The chair shattered when it made impact with the first of Daharas’s men, laying the swordsman flat on his back, stunned. Brell walked in engaging with one of the other men who rushed toward him. Eryn caught the foot of the other swordsman as he went running by, forcing the blade out of his hand. Rolling out from her cover, Eryn threw a strong punch into the downed fighter’s shoulder, breaking the arm.

A quick glance over her shoulder, Eryn noted that she had about twenty-five counts left as the crossbowmen reloaded their clunky weapons. She pulled two arrows from her quiver and raised both up in her hand. She loaded an arrow into her bow and released it, piercing the hand of one of the crossbow archers. The man called out, dropping his weapon and staggering backwards. Before his weapon hit the ground, Eryn let the second arrow fly from the bow, hitting the other man in the arm. As the crossbow archer yelled, his bolt flew from the crossbow, hitting Brell in the shoulder.

The minotaur grunted, snarling in the direction of Daharas and the archer. Brell swung his axe, knocking the sword out of his opponent’s hand. On the back swing, Brell leveled the man, knocking him unconscious. Enraged, Brell rushed forward and rammed his forehead into the man he’d hit with the chair earlier. Cutting his arm on the minotaur’s horn, the man yelled and grasped his wound.

Eryn raised her bow and held and arrow between her fingers. Daharas rushed forward, dodging the arrow as it sailed through the air. Eryn blocked his attack with the blade on her bow, feeling the tremors up to her shoulder. She swung her bow and stuck Daharas on the ear, using her bow like a switch.

Ducking low, Daharas pushed Eryn off the floor, flipping her over his shoulder. Eryn landed on her back, rolling from Daharas’s falling foot before it struck her face. She thrust the blade upward, stabbing the criminal in the thigh. Screaming, Daharas yelled and grabbed the wound at his leg. Eryn looped the string of her bow around Daharas’s head, pulling back and letting the tension of the bow deliver added power to the punch, knocking him unconscious.

“No one ever takes the easy way,” Eryn lamented. She took the manacles from Brell as the giant walked over, carrying his axe on his shoulder.

“And where were you?” Eryn asked, annoyed. “Forget it...let’s get this guy to the nearest Bounty Office.”