The Hunt for Dahlia

Paws the size of bucklers slapped down one after another through the mud that made up the eastern pass that ran out through the Agathok. The locals referred to it as Mercas Way, no doubt because of the vast amount of trade caravans and merchants that frequented it in the dry months. The beast gave a low moan and tossed its head back and forth several times to shake the rain and dirt from its face, picking up its pace slightly as it grew giddy at the prospect of a clean hide. The deserts had been warm the last few years allowing the beast to lounge with its master out in the sun, but the packing of sand into everything that was not sealed had been an uncomfortable compromise.

Kenric sat upon his mount between two bone plates the size of a man as the massive animal lumbered down the road. Not as enthusiastic about the rain he was not particularly upset about it either, the long years in the deserts past the borders of the kingdom of man had been brutal at times but he was happy to be returning home, even under the current circumstances. He looked back over his shoulder, pulling his hood to one side, and looked over the spine of his companion. Past the bone plates that ran in pairs all the way back and down its long tail he could see no sign they were being perused, though the rain made it hard to see more than fifty feet or so anyway.

The height of two men at the shoulder the animal at the very least gave him a vantage point, and they would arrive at their destination within the hour regardless. Kenric turned back around wiping the water off his face and out of his short beard, his cloak was soaked now and what seeped through it onto his oiled leather armor began to run down his back and arms. He chuckled to himself as he thought of the hot nights he had sat out in the sand or amongst the rocks with a roaring fire and clear sky full of stars. After a decade of service to the king he never thought he would be back in this part of the world during the rainy months, and at that possibly never.

A son and daughter waited for him back home along with his gorgeous wife Cynthia. They would have just finished dinner now after picking through the gardens for peppers and onions and the like, boiling a kettle now to have tea before they were off to bed with the sun. Kenric never much liked tea until he met his wife, watery herbs he preferred the dark brews that came out of the mighty Agathok Forest. As any man would he drank the tea anyway, and after a while it was not so much about the tea.

They would be fine without him for a few months, a year at most the man thought to himself as he leaned back into the saddle he had made up for his odd mount. His hand found the pipe in his pocket and at the risk of getting the remainder of his tobacco wet he packed the bowl halfway full. The smoke hung heavy in the air as it washed past him, slaloming between the plates and finally dispersing up into the trees that had begun to grow denser around them. They would arrive soon, his old companion’s home was tucked away here were the trees grew thick, just before a man would lose himself in them.

Mercas Way began turning southeast a moment later as Kenric pulled a leather rope. The beast staggered a bit before it registered what he wanted of it, with another moan and what passed for a hop it made its way off the wide road down into the brush. The trees took them as they crashed through saplings, over small brooks, and finally to the base of a high hill, fire light showing atop it a few hundred feet away. The animal made another moan, a loud displeased one as it looked up the hill and then turned its head to eye him up with one of its sideways facing eyes.

Kenric sighed before shifting in the saddle and hoping down, stretching out his broad shoulders and lean body. His legs prickled as the blood rushed down into them. He removed his cloak and slung it up over one of his mount’s shoulders revealing short rain-soaked hair the color of coal.

“Alright Leni, I’ll walk it with you” he said as he grabbed up a heavy leather lead.

The two trudged up the hill towards the large home that sat upon it, a two-story home was rare to see amongst common folk and even rarer yet when most here lived in cabins and shacks. Kenrick slipped and smacked the muddy grass with his knees more than once, Leni there in an instant to haul him back up without a grain of effort, she would roar every time as if she was laughing at him.

“Lo there!” a booming voice sounded as they approached, “The little dock boy and his lizard have returned”.

“Aye we have, I see you’ve aged like cheese rather than wine” Kenric responded with a laugh.

Booming laughter loud enough to free dead branches from the trees sounded out as the man came into view. A bull of a man holding a lantern stepped out of the doorway and came to meet them. A head taller and half again as wide as Kenric, Oswald had been a dock worker alongside him until they had been drafted in preparation for a war that would tear the land to shreds a decade past, where his size and strength had placed him as a shield breaker. There were very few breakers left, most of them dying atop a pile of bodies as their companions jumped on the remainder of a squad or company. Oswald, however, had gotten very good at what he did, and aside from a gross of scars had made it out intact.

The large man ran a huge hand over his clean shaven face and bald head before looking to his friend with a grin. When there was no more war to wage the two had ended up hunting more monsters than men, staving off the ghouls from the south or hunting goblins in the north, finally ending their service with the butchering of a rebellious Nymph clan a hundred miles north where the plains met the Agathok.

“Come in little brother, we have much to discuss” Oswald requested in a lower tone.

Leni shook the ground as she laid out in front of the house, allowing the rain to wash her. Her tail pounded against the ground several times before she lay still and an earth shaking snoring filled the air. The two men made their way inside, Kenric throwing several oiled packs off to the side before removing his cloak and boots.

The air smelled of spices and a thin smoke hung showing in the dim light of half a dozen lanterns, piles of bags and boots made up one wall as the other contained racks of swords and spears. Oswald gestured to an archway that appeared to lead them to a main room further in, Kenric obliged as he shrugged off his heavy leather vest and made to follow.

“There he is, it’s about time I say, about time he shows up” a familiar voice sounded as they emerged into a huge room with high ceilings.

“Hush, Emric, just be happy he came at all” A women’s voice responded.

Eight men and half as many women sat in chairs or upon couches, all looking at the new arrival. Kenric only recognized one of the men as Jerrim, another he had served with, there was also Elsa the wife of Oswald, and Marge his mother.

“Father passed, mum stays here now, tends to the gardens and what not” Oswald stated with a smirk, “Shame you couldn’t bring your lovely bride along”.

“Aye, my apologies old friend, it’s been too long” He responded remorsefully.

“Aye can we quit the chatter and get down to business?” The spindly man that sat upon a dark wooden chair across the room stated.

Kenric examined the room for a moment, dark wood tables, bottles of meads and wines, a fireplace that could use a few more logs. Dozens of framed pictures hung on the walls, family members and heroes. Bows and axes to another wall, Oswald had really put this place together nice aside from that smoldering fireplace. He made his way over to a high pile of split logs that leaned up against the wall to his left, grabbing an armful he began tossing them in. Flames licked at their edges after a moment as the hot coals began to feed on them.

The group watched him as he did so, one of the women scurrying through a door at the back of the room as Kenric found a chair to place himself in. Oswald sat down next to him a moment later with a smirk on his face. He shook his head and returned the smirk before leaning back in the chair and examining who was in front of him. Two of the men were dressed fine, silk shirts and brightly colored jackets that cost enough to retire an old man. Of the five he did not know, four looked to be soldiers, hired by one of the nobles he assumed, and there was a boy.

Of the women one was quite obviously a prostitute, her hands lingering on the other noble’s shoulder and arm as her dress was nearly falling off. The other, the one that had spoken to Emric, certainly must have been his bride, dressed in the same purple and black, sitting alongside him. There was also Oswald’s wife of course, but then there was the young lady who had left the room, young, probably the same age as the boy that sat amongst the other men.

Kenric pulled his pipe out again, taking a long drag he set his gaze upon Emric as the heat of the fire began to reach him.

“Yes Emric, lets do some business” Kenric responded.

“We have ten now, that will be enough” Jerrim piped up, cutting off a garbled response from the drunken noble.

“We leave in two days, in the cover of night, at the turn of the clock” Oswald stated.

“And you will bring me back what is mine, old friend” Emric slurred loudly before emptying the remainder of his glass down his throat.

Glances passed around the room as it fell silent.

“Ten? Through the gates of hell?” Kenric questioned in an amused tone.

“Aye, there are not many warriors left in these lands brother” Oswald responded solemnly.

“Aye… ten it is” he responded in a low drawn-out tone.