Helooooo

I am lazyyy I knowwwww

I did taxxxxx

(also no the town doesn't have a beacon ignore that shush)

Enjoyyyyyyy

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RECAP

          Growling something beneath his breath, the figure turned, leaping atop his horse with a swirl of his cloak. He turned his steed quickly, galloping back to the town his father lived near.

           When he arrived, there were still a few people up, illuminated with lanterns and torches, rolling some barrels into a shed of sorts. He leaped off his horse as it was just coming to a halt, saying to them breathlessly, "My father is dead, do you know anything of his killer? He was killed with lightning, it was not natural strike." His tone was dark.

          A man with a pipe in his mouth gave one last barrel a thumping kick, then rested a calloused hand on his hip. He screwed up his weathered face, lit up in warm lantern light, thinking as he took the pipe from his mouth, "Well...'m sorry for yer loss, lad... Hmmm...about a month 'r so ago...that demon from th' legends...what's 'is name...was seen fleein 'ere mighty quick. Didn' see 'im again, but we sent out a few o' the braver lads to try and track 'im. He was gone, vanished. Haven' seen 'im since. Could 'ave had somthin' to do with yer old man." The man brought his pipe to his mouth, drawing in a breath and blowing out a puff of smoke.

          The hooded figure growled, coming a little closer, holding the reins of his snorting horse tightly, "Tell me everything you know."

END RECAP

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Demon Hunters

~~~~Far from the Mountains~~~~

          The noon sky was choked with dark clouds, as it had been for near three days. Rain patiently drizzled down, as though it had no intention of stopping for quite some time, soaking the land and the people beneath it with patience often found in the insistent weather. Wind, not quite strong enough to uproot trees, batted at branches, cast leaves down prematurely as it plucked at roof shingles and bit at any unfortunate travelers in its way, chilling them with its helper, the rain.

          A cloaked man traveled down a muddy road beneath the dark clouds, his eyes hard, gleaming with ill intent. The horse beneath him plodded along slowly, ears laid back, head low, steps heavy. The pair had obviously traveled long and hard, but the journey hadn't seemed to have left much of an impression on the man. His shoulders were hunched, back stiff, hands gripping the horse's reins tightly as he glared haughtily at the nearing gates of his next stop...Thrandyr City.

          Lightning flashed in the distance, and thunder rumbled soon after, causing the horse to toss its head nervously. The man only tugged the reins a bit, nudging his mount on with his heels. He'd make it to the city before nightfall...his only worry was that he would be too late to find those he knew could aid him in his mission...

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          "That'll be thirty silvers for yer horse's board, and ten for yerself."

          "Thirty? What are you feeding her, golden oats?" The cloaked traveler glared at the man across the counter from him. The man was older, grey hair in shocks at his temples, with a beard of silver, and he'd introduced himself as 'Jan Cerdons' or something. Cerdons rubbed calloused hands on an old leather apron as he looked at the strange traveler with glittering, dark eyes. This traveler obviously wasn't from around here...and looked irritated enough without the rather high price he'd been offered. 

          With a sigh, Cerdons leaned on the rough, wooden counter, weathered and chipped from all its years serving as a barrier between angered customers and the inn's owner, "Nay, no golden oats for ye... our stables are small, an' in high demand..."

          The traveler's dark brows furrowed further where they sat above harsh, green eyes, and his thin-lipped mouth parted to expose gritted teeth. His face, chiseled and plain, lined with a beard of black, looked to have once been fair but had since hardened and tanned from weather and traveling. To Cerdons, this traveler seemed to be the type who would, and had, killed for lodging.

          Hm...well...no need to risk his life for a few gold.

           "...But listen 'ere...I'll give ye a deal. It's mighty late, an' I'm not one t' keep a traveler from 'is bed because of money issues. Thirty in all will be both your and the beast's room 'n board, and any food ye buy can be covered by that ten."

          With a grunt, the man nodded, producing a small sack of coins, "Very well...my bed better not have silverfish."

          "Ach, not on my watch sir."

          "Call me Ephrim."

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          Lying on a straw mattress that seemed to have random rocks within it wasn't a new experience...inns were so cheap nowadays. Sighing, Ephrim tucked his forearm behind his head, scowling at the rough, wooden planks above his head. Thrandyr wasn't an overly popular city...though it was one of the largest in the Western Territories. All he cared about what he could find within the city...

          "...that demon from the legends...what's 'is name...was seen fleein 'ere mighty quick. Didn' see 'im again, but we sent out a few o' the braver lads to try and track 'im. He was gone, vanished..."

          Ephrim huffed, shifting a little on the bed, fumbling in his pocket for his carved, wooden pipe and pulling out, only to remember he had nothing to smoke. He contented himself with nibbling on the end as his thoughts drifted again. The old man had proven extremely useful...he'd been a treasure trove of information, exactly what Ephrim had needed.

          "...Thandyr's the place ye'll want t' go...'s a bit northeast y'see, but 's the biggest ol' town ye'll find within three days' travel. There'll be plenty o' people to hear yer story...plenty o' hunters..."

          Hunters...the word had lit a match in his very soul. And these would be no mere game-hunters or trappers...they would real, genuine trackers...hunters of fugitives and criminals...

          ...and hopefully...of demons.

          Biting down on the end of his pipe idly, Ephrim smirked a little. Of course...they might demand money for such an expedition...but with the right...persuasions...they would almost certainly head after this evil apparition. After all...he'd run across at least five different travelers from towns all throughout the western territory...and all of them had mentioned a certain, empty-eyed being...

          ...and all had wanted him...be it dead or alive. He was some sort of evil ruler of a hellish dimension, according to legends and stories...and he would drag those he wished into the pits of that fiery place and torment them for his pleasure...

          Chuckling a bit, Ephrim set his pipe aside, reaching into a fold in his tunic to produce a torn bit of yellowed paper. Ah...old folklore and wild tales could do wonders to simple people's minds...driving them even to make up their own bounties.

          Unrolling the parchment, Ephrim scanned the words on it again...as he had done several times over the past few days. Harsh black ink and crude grammar dictated a warrant, a price on the 'demon's' head...along with a rough drawing of a man's face...with fangs and short hair...and soulless eyes.

          Wanted, dead or alive.

          The listed bounty would be more than enough for his debts...and hopefully, enough to tempt the supposed hunters to go after this man...creature. From the way travelers and legends described, he seemed to be on the small side. This would be easy money...if he could persuade enough men to follow him...

          Rolling up the ragged bit of paper, Ephrim tucked his arms behind his head again, allowing himself to drift off. He'd need to wait until the next morning to hope to contact anyone of use...it was far too late in the night to try and poke around in the dark underbelly of the city...the realm of hunters and cutthroats and greedy men.

          One last smile crossed Ephrim's face before he finally slept.

          How long would it take...to fell a demon...

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          "Thank ye kindly for yer business, Ephrim."

          With a grunt, Ephrim merely flicked a gold coin at the owner, "You never saw me here."

          grin flashed his way as the coin vanished into a pocket, and Ephrim turned on his heel, confident his presence would not be reported to those he owed here in the city...

          Mounting his horse, Ephrim tugged his hood lower, urging her into a trot. The streets were mostly empty at this early hour, though people still scurried along through the streets. It was not quite dawn, there was the barest hint of pink, cold light in the east. Lanterns still bathed the streets in warm light, swinging from chains in the nipping breeze. Rain still drizzled down, more of a mist than anything else, and it made the streets eerier than Ephrim would have liked. However, he pushed through it, wrapping his cloak tighter, heading for a certain little place he'd visited once before...tucked away among townhouses and cheap taverns...where the poor resided.

          "Attagirl Fara..." His voice was low as he guided the mare along rain-slicked streets, weaving around people and horses...and even a small herd of sheep at one point. Merely snorting, the horse shook her mane, pricked ears pinning back against the soft drizzle.

          It wasn't long before Ephrim found himself having to dismount and lead his horse on, as the houses and buildings around him became crowded, several even containing low signs and porches jutting into the street, threatening to smack his head. He kept his head low, a scowl on his face as he maneuvered through the streets, now practically alleyways.

          Turning down an even smaller, dark street, he halted in his tracks, a slow smile spreading.

          He'd found it...

          A small courtyard of sorts laid spread before him, surrounded by dingy taverns and shops...populated by near-silent people, all skulking against buildings or slinking out of alleyways. Most wore hoods or ragged scarves covering their faces.

          Keeping his head low, Ephrim strode towards the nearest tavern...the Stuck Boar or something...from which yelling and crashing ensued. After tying the reins to a post near other horses, he made his way into...chaos.

          Chairs were overturned, tables upside-down, plates of food flying every-which-way, accompanied by mugs of beer...the exact image of a Notch-forsaken tavern. Weaving his way through the carnage, ducking the occasional apple, and stepping over the occasional groaning man on the floor, he made his way with intent towards the mass of people crowded at the far back of the room...surrounding two people grappling with each other, fists flying.

          Elbowing his way to the front, Ephrim sighed in exasperation. One of the males caught up in the fight, the larger one, was the hunter he sought...

          Sticking his hands in the folds of his cloak, Ephrim scowled, leaning against the wall as the larger fighter shoved his opponent into the wall. Adarion...right...that was his name. A renowned hunter, leader of the Blood Wolves, the most dangerous pack of hunters in the East. It was said he'd once tracked a ghost assassin into the very bowels of the earth, through some of the most twisted caverns and smallest passageways...and had made it out alive, with his quarry in tow.

          If anyone could get the demon...and consequently, the reward money...it would be him.

          Now if only he would hurry up with this silly fight and break away from the crowd...

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          Not thirty minutes later, Adarion threw his opponent into a table, and thus won whatever 'battle' he'd gotten himself into. After shaking off some of the townspeople, he tramped over to the bar Ephrim sat calmly at, sipping a mug of ale. Slapping a gloved, meaty fist on the bar, he demanded a draught of ale as well, on the loser's bill.

          Once he was settled on the...rather small barstool, a mug in his hand, Ephrim made his move, quickly standing and settling on the second stool beside the large man, calmly stating, "The next two drinks for him will be on me."

          That earned him a suspicious glance from Adarion, in the form of one dark eyebrow lifted as his silvery eyes narrowed. Ephrim regarded him with a nod, one hand inside of his cloak, fiddling with the reward poster.

          The two men sat beside each other without speaking a single word for several minutes, each quietly sizing the other up. Glancing at the hunter every once in a while, Ephrim committed his recognizable form to memory, trying to work out what type of man this Adarion was...what sorts of bargains might appeal to him. So far, what he saw pleased him. A rugged-looking leader, with the cunning glint of a wolf's instinct in his silvery eyes, though his dark beard made him seem more like a bear. A wolfskin cloak, worn and faded, hung about his shoulders, and his clothing was a mass of dark tunics, belts, and animal fur. By the door hung his signature crossbows and twin axes, all carved meticulously with wolfs' heads.

          Those same weapons had taken many foes down...

         When Adarion's second drink had been poured, Ephrim turned a bit in his chair, noting that the man before him seemed much more relaxed, "Adarion...am I correct?"

          The man grunted, shooting him a suspicious glance, "Aye...what's it t' you."

          "I'm...looking for someone..."

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          Within the hour, over Adarion's last ale, Ephrim had managed to convince the man to round up all his Wolves and hunt, for three-fourths the profit. Once they'd haggled and argued and settled on the price, Ephrim revealed he knew where the trail started...and how they could double, even triple the profit by keeping the demon alive and bringing him to different territories, each with their own reward. This pleased the hunter greatly, and no more arguments were made.

          And, not three hours later, Ephrim found himself mounted on his horse beside Adarion, on his own grey-flecked stallion. Surrounding them were near fifty men and women, dressed to kill in furs and worn, even bloodstained tunics. Weapons tucked in sheaths riddled their tough, lean bodies, and hard, gleaming eyes set in scarred faces stared up at their leader with loyal intensity.

          Adarion grinned down at his followers, then revealed the wanted poster Ephrim had given him with a flourish, holding it over his head.

          "There's said t' be a demon roamin' this world unpunished...a demon Notch himself has rejected and scorned! A hefty price comes with his capture..."

          Leering grins began to spread over the faces in the crowd of toughened hunters, and hands reached for sheathed weapons in anticipation.

          "Are ye with me, my Blood Wolves?? Are ye willin' to hunt such magnificent prey??"

          A roar rose up from fifty throats, as deadly, gleaming weapons and torches flashed into the air.

          "AYE ADARION!!"

          And with that, the hunters swarmed over to the tavern's stables, drawing horses from within, mounting them with speed and efficiency.

        "Then follow yer Alpha to riches and rewards!!!"

          Adarion turned his steed on its heels, urging it to gallop out of the square, towards the gates of the city, followed closely by Ephrim and the rest of his Blood Wolves. The group of horses made a noise like thunder as their hooves struck the cobbles, some even kicking up sparks with their heavy, metal shoes.

          A grin spread over Ephrim's face at the sound. He'd never done something so spontaneous and exciting before...perhaps he should do it more often.

            The thunder of their horses was soon matched with the thunder of an open sky as they swept through the gates of the city, out into the vast world beyond....

          ...heading for a fate unknown.

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reEEee aaghh I had another pic I wanted to share...but I lost my sketchbooook aaaghhh

aNyhow yes...fluff next chapter uwu

(*insert desperate whiny voice*) vOte if yOu eNJoyEd