Professionals and Providence

There weren't always dragons in the valley. Of course, there weren't always humans in the valley either. Long ago, if you go back far enough, there was nothing in the valley. Plants, animals, even the sun crept into the valley over millennia. If you were particularly philosophical, you might think that no one could truly claim the valley as their home; everyone's just passing through. The humans didn't see it that way, though. They were there before the dragons, so the dragons needed to go. The conceit of the stance didn't bother Vaal much. After all, it was humans that paid him, not the trees, and certainly not the dragons. The old man told him, back when Vaal was still listening, that professionals left their hearts at home; and Vaal was a professional.

The sun threatened to rise over Gnawbone Valley as he worked his axe out of the birch tree. It wouldn't be much longer. He looked at his night's work with a little more satisfaction than was probably warranted. The wedge was deep enough that the rope and stake strained to keep the tree upright. Just past the tree, to the west, the shallow trench he and Kuma had dug yawned at him. It wasn't the subtlest trap, but his prey wasn't exactly subtle either. Vaal yawned back at the trench, and propped the axe against the nearby boulder, next to their hunting supplies. All that was left was to wait.

They were lucky the abandoned mine opened to such a wide space. Just under two acres of sparse grass, it was the perfect spot for landing or taking flight. The dragon had been blessed to find it. When they found it the night before, the only objects in the small field were the boulder big enough to duck behind, and the birch tree. Ancient grooves in the dirt echoed the memory of a mining camp, but nature had just begun to reclaim the space before they had arrived. Vaal allowed himself a leisurely stretch and cut himself a piece of jerky. A stone's throw to the southwest, the babbling of the valley creek weaved it's way through the wall of trees that surrounded him. Birds with unknown names serenaded him from above, and the light scuffling of varmints in the undergrowth danced an accompanying rhythm. In little moments like this, Vaal knew he had made the right choice leaving Vakorn. Out here, there were no leashes or collars. His head found its rest leaning on the boulder and he allowed a satisfied sigh. Once Kuma came running up for air, there'd be no peaceful tranquility; might as well enjoy it while it lasts.

A careless orchestra of trampled branches from the south ended his peace too quickly. It's conductor galloped out of the trees as Vaal snapped to attention, crossbow leaping into his hands. A gaunt figure in tattered priest robes slid to a halt and fell backwards as they tried to put both hands up in front, as if begging. It was a boy, just barely old enough to be counted a man. Despite his emaciated appearance, he hit the grass with a surprisingly loud thud.

"Please," the young man managed, but when he tried to say more only stammering followed.

Vaal towered over him, motionless. The young man was covered in shallow cuts and blackened bruises; his tattered sleeves clung to his arms with sweat. Bloodshot emerald eyes stared up from behind the wild tangle of mud brown hair. Chains chimed softly from underneath his clothes. Fugitives were only ever good money or bad trouble. His struggle to keep from panting meant pursuit. Normally, capture would be worth considering, but Kuma would be back any time now.

"You see that wide oak over there, the one two trees in? There's a small pit dug between it's roots. Get in there and cover yourself."

The fugitive was still. The sounds of the river were interrupted in the distance. Vaal set his crossbow down.

"Now or never, kid."

It took a second before the words reached the fugitive. He scrambled across the small field back into the northern woods, nearly falling into the trench along the way. Vaal leaned back up against the boulder, positioned himself between the crossbow and axe, and tried to focus on the glory of the dawn, but the peaceful tranquility would not return. A few moments later, the fugitive's pursuers heralded their arrival with a lightshow and cacophony of noise that made him seem subtle.

Five figures stumbled out of the trees, same spot as the fugitive, each more wild-eyed than the last. Two of the five carried spears with lantern orbs tied to the shafts. The first to enter had the good grace to hold up a hand at the sight of Vaal, before stepping into the field.

"Hail, brother!" he sang, "No threat here! We ten are but seekers, no need for alarm. Please leave your arms where they lay."

The talker made a point of saying there were ten of them, but Vaal only saw five. That meant there were others still hidden in the trees, or he was lying and assumed Vaal was a bandit. Ten would be too many to trouble. Lucky for everyone there, Vaal wasn't a bandit these days. Too many hunters, not enough coin. As soon as he shrugged and scratched his prematurely salt and pepper beard nonchalantly, the talker moved closer, signaling the other four to follow. His clothes certainly looked like a woodsman's. Unfortunately, it was too well pressed, the dyed tunic still a vibrant green, and the only stains from dirt, sap, and dew were clearly just from that night. The saber at his hip was too ornate and his slicked back ashen hair was styled. Even if they hadn't made noise like a parade, it was obvious they didn't belong. Still, the old man always said folk's business is just that, their business. If they wanted help, they'd tell you. If that was true, the talker clearly wanted a lot of help.

"Well, now that that we have agreed to civility, I think it is only proper to introduce ourselves to one another. My name is Acos Mazatl of Clan Hakken, most devout servant of the River Unending and the Cricket King's Claw, based out of our embassy in Vakorn," a hawker's grin stretched beneath his thin trimmed moustache, "and this fine cadre of fellows are my escort, aiding me in my pursuit. Forgive me for my inquisitive nature, but by your equipment and demeanor might I divine that you are a hunter, familiar with the valley?"

Vaal stifled a frown. Torazi missionaries were basically nonexistent, but their inquisitors were cropping up all over eastern Abyala lately. They always had that infuriating personality trait of not comprehending the limits of their authority. Where was Kuma? He was always better at dealing with people. Vaal sighed and nodded curtly, and Acos' smile showed a little more gum.

"Providence is a most wondrous thing, is it not? As I said, I am also one who hunts. Today, the Current dictates that I hunt a most invasive heretic. A blasphemer who dared mimic our chosen devote in an admittedly moderately successful attempt to swindle the River's faithful. Alas, just as the salmon cannot see beyond its waters, I am ill suited for tracking in this environment. It is clearly the will of the world that you aid us. Any who give unto us aid, in the deliverance of this villain, would be well rewarded."

"I'm sure they will," Vaal glanced to the mine's entrance, "Unfortunately, I only work one contract at a time, and I am currently working extermination for the Gnawbone Longhouse families. So, if you wouldn't mind taking yourself and your team back into the tree line, this is about to be a dangerous place."

"You dare deny the King's Claw?" growled one of the entourage, an unworldly looking man of twenty odd years. His hand moved to the hilt of a sheathed sword and his took an uncautious step past his leader.

Acos sighed dramatically and placed a stilling hand on the zealot's shoulder. Vaal wondered absentmindedly if the fugitive was even in the pit nearby, or if he had kept running. The birds had stopped singing.

"The fellow has been most polite, Jeumaq. That warrants politeness in return." Acos turned his attention back to Vaal. "An admirable discipline sir, but I only just know realize that we have been unspeakably rude in not inquiring as to what name you identify as."

"Vaal of Serithik."

"And the River bends unexpectedly!" the young man called Jeumaq blinked before stepping behind Acos once more, hand still gripping his sword. "Oh providence once again! You are well known in Vakorn, good sir, as I suspect is the case everywhere east of the River of the World. All the more reason to entreat you to join in our hunt. I assure you that the coffers of the Torazi empire can price out your current employer. Blasphemy such as what our quarry has committed requires the most severe of punishment. As such there is a bounty placed upon his head that amounts to a generous 10,000 gold flints."

Vaal begrudgingly raised an eyebrow with a grimace. Funny how all a reputation seemed to get him was high rates and the chance at borrowing trouble. These zealots were threatening to complicate things if they lingered, but they clearly had no intention of leaving.

"Sorry, kid," he muttered under his breath, "He came through here earlier, ran to the north. There's a couple of shallow dens and pits that way; should be able to find him real quick."

"You take us for fools, savage!" shouted Jeumaq, "Claw Acos, the obvious hiding place is the mine. This moonborn heathen is trying to send us on a snipe hunt!"

"I assure you, there's nothing in that mine you want to see." Vaal let his hand fall next to the axe, "You head north right now, you might catch your man before he figures out I just sold him out. No thanks to loudmouth here."

Acos' suspicious gaze fleeted from Jeumaq to Vaal. A handful of others stepped out from the woods, all wielding bows and wearing the same wood and bone lamellar as Acos' other inquisitors. With a glance, Acos ordered half of his men to investigate the north. The spearmen and Jeumaq stalked towards Vaal, while the remaining follower removed the trigger block on his crossbow.

"Timus teaches that when the River forks, his Claws must split themselves to follow the Current."

"Oh well, that clears things up." Vaal sneered under his breath.

Then the earth quaked. A lower guttural hiss echoed out of the mouth of the mine. Everyone froze as a flickering orange light grew close.

"Get in position!" a voice in the mine shouted, "It's plenty pissed!"

A dark-skinned man wearing a Torazi breastplate over Akongan studded leather burst out from the mine, swords tied down on his back and torch flying out of his hand as his sprinted. One of the bowmen fired instinctively, narrowly missing the sprinter's tied back ebony hair, and sinking into the darkness of the mine's mouth with a squelch. Before anyone had time to wonder, a gargantuan reptilian head floated out of the mine, the arrow stuck superficially through its dewlap.

Only the dragon's head, neck, and front limbs protruded from the mine, yet it still extended almost halfway across the field. It's opaque skin was void black, seemingly fusing to the darkness of the mine. It let out it's guttural hiss once more, machete-like teeth slick with saliva. Kuma kept running for the trench, but it was no good. The ten others standing out in the open were too distracting, and the dragon swung it's tree trunk neck towards the nearest and bit down on one of the northbound hunters. He had just enough time to drop his bow as the jaws snapped shut around his waist, leaving behind only his severed hands and legs as the dragon swiveled to it's next snack.

The remaining inquisitors let out blood-curdling war shrieks and charged the leviathan. Vaal couldn't fault their courage, but their tactics left something desired. With the exception of Claw Acos, the Torazi stabbed and shot at the dragon with abandon, planting their feet and letting their divine fury defend them. In response, the dragon brought down it's right hand, crushing one of the spearmen and sending blood flying. It dragged the hand up and forward, tearing up the earth and bifurcating the chest of the nearest archer with a backswing. The others scrambled backwards, but the dragon's reach was enough to bite another archer in half.

"Move to the trench, morons!" Kuma shouted, untying his shortsword from his back.

Only half of them seemed to hear him, but Vaal was strangely comfortable with that. From behind the boulder, he picked up his spear, rested it on the rock next to the crossbow, and moved into position. The axe's elongated shaft rested perfectly in his hand. Kuma had mocked him for carrying a shepherds axe, but the length allowed for more than just doubling as a walking stick. It was just long enough that he could cut the rope holding the tree up without leaving the boulder's cover. It was the first time the stars had aligned perfectly for that.

"Providence indeed," he smirked to himself as he peeked out from cover to see if the dragon had moved.

It was; slowly at least. The Torazi inquisitors had been reduced to five, the original five, in fact, barring one spearman. Acos and Jeumaq, still standing where they had been when attempting to hire Vaal, shouted in their native tongue and the others ran to the trench. The dragon hissed once more before coiling it's neck. A sound like a mudslide rumbled somewhere within, before it's neck shot out straight and it bared it's teeth. Viscose tar-like fluid sprayed out of it's mouth like a fountain, covering two of the three running inquisitors. The stench of burning flesh filled the air as the spayed men crumpled to the ground. Their pained shrieks turned to death rattles instantly as the fluid burned through their flesh and bone, fusing them to the ground.

"Retreat!" howled Acos.

Jeumaq and the sole survivor dashed franticly for the tree line, fading back into the wilderness to the south. The dragon dragged itself after them, away from the trench and tree. Vaal cursed all southern nations and grabbed his crossbow. The dragon had just poked it's head through the tree line as he fired. The bolt buried itself in the dragon's folded carriage-sized wing; not enough to hurt it, but plenty to catch it's attention. The dragon weaved it's neck through the trees to see him. They stood staring at each other for what felt like hours. Vaal slowly let out his breath, and dropped the crossbow. The dragon catapulted at him, turning the trees around it to splinters.

Vaal scrambled around the boulder, barely grabbing his axe before the dragon's maw carved into the ground where he had been, swallowing the rest of their gear and smashing its head into the boulder in the process. Vaal found his feet right as a talon the size of a lance drove at him. He blocked with his axe on instinct. The force of the blow threw him to the ground beside the tree, on the opposite side of the rope.

The world trembled, keeping him on his back, as the dragon stalked around the boulder, more than close enough to swallow him whole. The tree's hollowed trunk creaked and cracked with each stomp. Vaal pulled himself up as it's neck coiled and the mudslide sound returned. Vaal flung himself towards the rope and swung just as the dragon's head launched forward, spewing hot death as it's neck snapped straight. The axe cut through the rope like paper and the tree crashed down right on the center of the dragon's neck. It's head slammed into the ground snapping it's mouth shut prematurely. A sickening searing sound and smell emanated from its blistering lip before roaring in pain.

The neck swiveled the dragon's head to where Vaal lay. He strained to get up, but couldn't. His sweat turned cold as the smell of burnt leather guided his gaze down to his boot, fused to the ground by the dragon's tarry ichor. The half-pinned dragon reared its head as best it could. An almost mocking light danced in it's eyes as the dragon's cavernous maw opened wide.

"Fucking Providence." Vaal spat.

Something scuffed on stone to the west. Vaal and the dragon both looked just in time to see Kuma leap from on top of the boulder. With a roar, he landed on the dragon's head sword first. The blade penetrated the skin at the base of the skull and sank deep with an audible scraping. The dragon writhed and thrashed as Kuma clung to it like a burr. Vaal drew his knife and cut himself free from his boot as the dragon slammed itself on the ground left and right, failing to shake Kuma loose. Vaal wrenched himself free just as the dragon's movement slowed. It's head bowed and hit Kuma up against the boulder halfheartedly, cracking his back against the stone. Before it could move, Vaal swung his axe with all his might. The axe blade bit into the dragon's eye and skull. A strangled hiss eked out as he brought the axe down again, and the dragon went limp. Viscera sprayed them both as they wrenched their weapons free from the beast. No more sound came from the dragon.

"You good?" Kuma panted.

Vaal nodded and helped him out from between the boulder and carcass. The two of them surveyed the scene. Easily two dozen trees had been ripped apart or melted. The mine entrance had collapsed from the dragon's spray at some point. Now that it was out in full, Vaal considered the acre and a half long body of the dragon.

"Small." he said, "This was a male."

"Yeah," Kuma broke off a fang with Vaal's axe, "the female won't be coming back here though. I mean, look around."

"Aberama specifically wanted the female dead."

"It's kind of necessary for there to be no more dragons out here, I should hope. For that, Aberama said 750 for males and 2,000 for the female."

"Payable upon proof of demise." Vaal finished, sifting through the pockets of the crushed spearman. "So, as professionals, we could just take the 750 and be done if we wanted."

Kuma raised an eyebrow.

"I mean, yeah, but else would we be doing?"

Vaal was silent, throwing aside the too small boots of the spearman and moving to the next corpse. Kuma shrugged and looked to the south.

"Who were those people, anyway? I heard one of them speaking torazi."

Vaal smiled as one of the archer's boots slid snuggly onto his foot.

"Providence."