The Guards and the Foundation

A gravelly roar set all in motion.

Tiana raced towards the darkening horizon, kicking up a dust trail in her wake. Zaile and Ferric raced after the fleet-footed woman, breathing hard to keep up. Armoured in new, shiny plate, a lumbering Kannu lagged, his greaves clanging with each step.

A pair of cloaked men shot past Zaile and sounded their horns. Forming a flanking pincer on Tiana, they levelled their crossbows and fired. The huntress ducked and swerved without slowing, leaving only her vestige for the whistling quarrels. Kannu, from the far rear, bellowed in outrage at the assault.

“Cover her!”

Zaile unleashed a battle cry that came out as a pale imitation of Solmis. Grunting in ire, he pumped his legs harder and slung a salvo of jagged rocks. Though he equalled the crossbowmen in accuracy, hissing stone drew the enemies to him.

One of the opposing hunters spun around, fell on one knee, and took aim. Zaile slowed, falling behind Ferric who ran straight through the incoming bolt, Zaile returned fire, his stone bouncing off a helm with a resounding clank. The foe, dazed, teetered back as Ferric’s raking fingers sundered the visor.

Discarding his crossbow, the scrambling man steadied his footing. In a flash, twin daggers shot out of his cloak and streaked towards Ferric. The flurry of slashes and thrusts, which would’ve sliced any victim into bloody ribbons, instead found iron skin.

Snorting, Ferric replied with a shin kick, his leg extending like a spear thrust that dented the greaves. The victim fell to the ground, shrieking. Ferric silenced him with a stomp to the head. The ashes blackened, quenching its thirst on the red oozing from the crushed helm.

Having witnessed the threat their rivals posed, Zaile drew his dagger. The moment he readied his weapons, another roar, much closer this time, stung his ears. As he would soon find out, this was but the promenade for the terror to come.

From the darkness emerged a Freak unlike anything he had seen before. A lump of flesh–covered in misshapen eyes rather than grey skin–atop numerous spear-like legs, as if some callous demigod had squished dozens of spiders into one. Bounding after Tiana with thumping strides, it scoured the surrounding with a crazed gaze.

Zaile could not help but feel they had made a horrible mistake.

Ferric turned a spyglass on a large gathering of men. Digging trenches and laying down siege ballistae, they seemed more a private army than a hunting party. He gave an irked grunt when Kannu snatched the instrument from him.

“Warmaster Graystar promoted me for my accurate head counts,” snarled Ferric. “Unless you get it wrong, my count will not–”

“Northroc boys,” Kannu sneered. “With their rentals, I see.”

Zaile felt his face twitching, as if a hand had grown out of the cheeks to pinch it. When he tasked Ruan and the boys with gathering street gossip–a compromise for not taking them hunting–he was not expecting his brother to uncover the most vicious criminal syndicate paying the Guards for equipment and protection.

“Hunters don’t kill hunters,” said Kannu, casting a knowing glance at Zaile. “However much those mutts deserve it.”

Making no attempt to hide his anger, Zaile screwed up his face. Instead of poaching dangerous Freaks that may not even exist, killing all these men seemed a surer way to solid gold. Why draw the line at stealing their prey?

“I asked around,” said Tiana. “Nobody has seen a Freak since last week. Why would these guys be any different?”

“Because you don’t waste time and money chasing ghosts,” said Ferric. “If you got a better idea–”

“Anything is better,” replied Tiana. “We’re stealing from Noa Northroc who now has the Guards behind him. This is beyond stupid.”

Kannu laid a hand on her shoulder. “Since when did we earn coins not paid in blood and dust?”

Tiana heaved a great sigh and brushed off his hand. “Fine! Cover me.”

Zaile had little time to revel in his vindication. The remaining enemy, steering clear of Ferric, now stalked Tiana with a loaded crossbow. Rather than firing, he showed a veteran’s restraint, preferring instead to aim in her general direction. It was only a matter of time before either bolts or grotesque appendages skewered the huntress.

Zaile was loading his slingshot when the earth groaned. The crossbowman spun around in alarm. Sailing an impossible parabola through the night sky, Kannu overshot the man like a catapult boulder, hitting the ground so hard that the impact drowned out the shrieking Freak. The giant must have propelled himself with his Curse.

Having shredded considerable mass from his left leg to achieve temporary flight, Kannu could hardly take a stride without falling over. With an unsteady pivot, he made a sluggish swing. Still, his arms and reach saw the axe into the thighs. Grunting with strained satisfaction, Kannu hobbled over to screaming hunter and seized him by the arm.

“Girl,” yelled Kannu. “To me!”

Kannu flung his captive at the Freak, a gesture that turned it from Tiana. Impaling the man with outstretched legs, the Freak parted its bulging torso to reveal its misshapen maw. The rows of fangs, covered in mucus, seemed more like rusty saws than teeth. Almost nonchalantly, it shoved the fresh meat into its gaping jaw, wriggling with evident pleasure as it chewed.

“See, boy,” Kannu snickered, dusting his hands of invisible dirt as he addressed Zaile. “Hunters don’t kill hunters.”

“Focus,” cried Ferric. “It’s coming our way!”

The numerous eyes, previously swimming without focus, now locked onto the four hunters. The aberrant parody of a spider had just found its next meal. Euphoric, it let out a cry that almost resembled mocking laughter.

“A laughing pin cushion,” Kannu spat. “Careful, it might be poisonous–”

The Freak’s maddening glare cut short the warning. Zaile closed his eyes, but not in time to fend off a cerebral invasion. He heard himself screaming as the creature danced on his lifeless corpse, dismembering him with gleeful cackles. Without thinking, Zaile unleashed a battle cry, breaking the catatonic paralysis. The brief exchange left him gasping and sweating, as if he had fought ten men.

Shrouded in lurid hallucinations, Ferric took a kick that sent him tumbling across the dusty plain. Jolted back to reality, the Graystar vaulted off the ground. Spitting bitter ashes, he lifted two clenched fists and returned the Freak a defiant stare. Tiana, taking cover behind Kannu, leaned against him to keep his standing.

“You sure about this?” cried Ferric.

Laughing aloud, Kannu hewed off several legs. “Freaks at night flaunt their Curses all the time!”

“Why the plural?”

“Never mind!” Tiana yelled back, notching an arrow. “Blind it before it does it again!”

Tiana’s glittering arrows, blown to impossible heights with her Curse, signalled the charge. Zaile fell in behind Ferric, forcing his burning legs to kick harder against the ground. He fingered the pair of snare charms in his pockets. The enchanted lockets came with one simple instruction: close in and open. Unfortunately, after breaking several limbs on Ferric, the Freak retreating in large jumps. Its eyes, now firmly locked onto Ferric, again flashed with lunatic malice.

Before either of them could respond, Tiana’s arrows, glowing with the divine Finnardian radiance, punctured the Freak with meteoric ferocity. The Freak, rather than meekly dissipating into dust, opened its maw and unleashed a tormented gurgle.

Gagging at a sudden waft of acerbic scent, Zaile pushed Ferric aside just as the Freak vomited a ball of goo at them. The gel, hissing and smoking, ate a hole in the ground deep enough to swallow half a man. Without the two hunters pressing it, the Freak retched another acidic missile at Kannu.

“Above!” yelled Zaile, pointing to the sky.

Dropping her bow, Tiana threw up both her arms, summoning a tempest that whipped up her hair and cloak. The wind slammed the glutinous blob into the ground with a resounding splat. Tiana squeezed her eyes shut and inhaled through grinding teeth. Blood from her flayed fingers ran down her forearms before dribbling onto her boots.

“Bandage me,” she whispered to Kannu.

Kannu complied. “Next time...” he never finished the sentence.

“I’m not leaving you,” replied Tiana, reading his mind. “The moment you melt into mush, is the moment I become its pretty kebab. We're still going to need to you for the killing blow.”

Grunting in approval, Kannu hoisted his axe high and took a deep breath. “Yeah.”

With more acid balls falling on the two advanced hunters, Zaile split from Ferric while waving his arm. The Graystar nodded and charged the opposite flank, leaving Zaile to sweep up one of the Freak’s broken legs. As he weighed the spindly remain, his heart skipped a beat. These were bones. This Freak was made of gold! Gold that would pave a path to Solmis! With that thought, he tightened his grip on the makeshift weapon and charged. No man cowering from this beast would stand a chance against a Zunarkian Templar.

For the first time, Zaile faced the Freak’s kicks. He roared, shouting down his instincts telling him to run. He didn’t leave behind that hillside sanctuary to cower behind Ferric and Kannu. Leaning forward, Zaile pressed his elbow against the midsection of the stolen leg. Upon contact, Zaile pivoted and twisted his hips. This parry, a poor imitation of Solmis, turned aside the thrust. Though the impact rattled his bones, Zaile spun past the attack and pressed on.

Zaile shuddered as he advanced deeper. The few eyes the Freak spared him narrowed into shapes that might have belonged to a smiling profile. The increasing frequency of kicks, however, left no room for fear. Footwork, posture, and timing, the bloody trinity of combat, tenuously allied under unbridled focus, allowed Zaile, if only for a moment, to defy his limits.

His efforts attracted more eyes from the Freak, now wide with curiosity. Zaile pursed his lips. This affront to Mercy, busy vomiting acid at Ferric, was content to toy with him. Zaile stepped into another kick, forcing his leaden arms into a rising arc. Zaile pounced, hurling the leg like a javelin. From this distance, he could not miss.

With the Freak withdrawing its limbs in defence, Zaile charged. He would never get this chance again. Click. He tossed both lockets for good measure. Two brilliant beams of light burst from the charms, pressing the screeching Freak into the ground like a pair of giant hands.

“Now!” screamed Zaile.

Kannu threw his axe, shattering the shielding legs and tearing open the Freak’s torso. Fetid geysers of bile shot into the air, forcing Ferric and Zaile to leap back. The Freak, writhing and wailing, now whimpered and wheezed. Its mad eyes dimmed. It knew it was going to die.

Jubilant, Zaile picked up another leg and made to deliver the final blow. A sharp sting pulled his eyes, then his fingers, towards his gut. With its remaining strength, the Freak had scratched him. The injury, no larger than a pinprick, assaulted his chest with a thousand molten needles.

The world’s outlines began to melt as colours bled into the grey desert. His legs, having withstood the Freak’s assault, gave way like sand before the rising tide. He puked into the swirling rainbow when a silhouette resembling Ferric forced a rancid pill down his throat. Zaile almost hurled again when a strike to his jaw turned everything black.

Zaile woke to the sound of clinking metal. Opening his eyes, he found himself staring at the stars through the porous ceiling of Ferric’s safehouse. Sitting up, he stared down at his numb pinkie and found the flesh under the nail had turned black, as if injected with ink.

“You're still drowsy from the Sandfire,” said Ferric, offering Zaile a hand. “Careful.”

“Thought Mercy claimed you,” said Kannu. “Graystar saved your life.”

Tiana nodded, tossing a pouch at Zaile. “Here,” she said. “You earned it.”

With a surprised grunt, Zaile caught the heavy pouch. As he peeked inside, his jaw dropped. Quickly, he reached inside and counted ten silver coins.

“For your valour,” chuckled Ferric, patting him on the back. “Kannu wanted to give you gold but our war chest cannot afford larger dividends right now.”

“Damn fine work, Zaile,” said Kannu.

“Yeah,” Tiana added. “You danced circles around that thing.”

Zaile closed his eyes, shoulders sagging. His Solmis impression was so bad that no one recognised it.

“Arrows, charms...” Ferric muttered to himself as he scribbled into his notebook. “I’ll talk to Euphon about other options. I doubt trinkets and arrows will work against Solmis.”

Kannu kicked at a haversack. “Let’s cash in the dust then,” he said. “At least five gold in here.”

While Zaile had never visited Don’s tavern at first light, he suspected the dozens of heavily armed men were not regular patrons. The elderly proprietor, whom he had never seen outside his secluded office, now sat at a table with knotted brows.

On the opposing side was a portly man with a masked swordsman at his side. His presence drew a collective groan from Zaile’s companions. Shaking his head, Kannu hobbled into a chair and slammed his axe shaft against the floor. The loud bang attracted many nervous stares towards the hunter who returned a challenging glare around the hall.

“Wait your turn, Kannu,” shouted the fat man before imposing his full girth on the table. “Now, old friend. What will it be?”

“My Sandfire has patrons in the Aurael Council,” Don hissed. “I fear not the Guards.”

“I knew you were stubborn,” said the man named Northroc. “I never imagined you a fool.” He flicked the masked swordsman a gold coin. “Wiz, send him to the Divine Finnardi, will you? For friendship, make it painless.”

Eyes flickering to Ferric, their only combat-ready fighter, Zaile darted towards Don, dragging the man back while Ferric planted himself before Wiz. The masked man, pivoting, rested a hand on his hilt.

“Wiz,” warned Don, his voice dropping an octave. “I don’t pay for posing.”

“One gold to stab the old fool,” replied Wiz, “nine more for the Graystar. Well?” When Don didn’t answer, Wiz returned him his coin. “Call upon me once more when you’re prepared to meet my price.”

Zaile did not breathe again until the hiresword’s whistling faded out of earshot. Having faced Solmis and a Freak as tall as this tavern, he couldn’t fathom why the masked man turned his sweat cold. Overwhelmed with relief, he failed to notice that Don had snuck into his office.

“I didn't believe it when I heard it,” Kannu growled. “Noa, you working for the Guards now? That’s a new low.”

“A business partnership,” said the man, smoothing his silk coat. “It’s been a while, old axe.”

Kannu looked ready to throw his axe. “Not long enough, you bloated sack of–”

“I don’t owe you anything,” interrupted Noa. “But you owe me an explanation. Lost two boys hunting last night. The others said someone had poached their prey. You wouldn’t happen to know anything, would you?”

“Hunters don’t kill hunters,” deadpanned Kannu. “You knew that.”

Noa placed a silver pipe between his lips and snapped his fingers at a henchman who promptly rushed over with a match. He took a great puff, groaning with exaggerated satisfaction.

“I’m as forgiving as any good Finnardian ought to be,” Noa resumed, pointing to the bulging sack sitting by Kannu. “Leave that there, good friend, and we’ll continue as brothers of the same church.”

“I never feared you when you were your own man,” Kannu chortled, “I’m not about to start now that you’re Krugo’s mutt.”

Noa’s face darkened. “For old times’ sake,” he drawled. “Hand over the dust.”

Tiana, donning a coquettish smile, placed herself on Kannu’s lap. Wrapping her arms around him, she whispered something that relaxed his grip on the axe. Ferric, waving Zaile back, took a seat at Noa’s table.

“Five gold,” said Ferric, “and it’s yours. Brothers of the same church, right?”

Noa puffed his pipe again, stood up, and made for the door. The floor squeaked nervously with his every step. His men, instead of following him out, bared their weapons. 

“The Northroc Foundation pays debts, not for stolen goods,” said Noa, glancing over his shoulder one last time. “Kill them.”