Year: 18456
“Fan out! Stay in twos and within torchlight of each other!” The voice belonged to a mostly armored figure, calling out in a feminine voice to the thirty soldiers within earshot. The soldiers all begin to move quickly and in unison, pairing then lining up along the entrance to the snow-capped evergreen forest in front of them. The commanding figure takes her shield from her horse and reaches into a bag for a vial. She smears the contents of the vial on the shield, muttering a few words. Light springs forth from a briar-wrapped rose emblazoned on the shield.
The figure checks to make sure the line was formed before yelling out, “Forward! Find the quarry! Bring him alive!” As one, the unit marches forward, grim eyes of veterans peering into the darkness. Each one of them was hand picked by the inquisitor herself, mixing together both royal guard and three of the Church of Everlyn’s best hunters. She had been requested specifically from the Grand Mother of the church to answer the royal call of aid, pulling the other three from their duties for their tracking and skills.
Joshua was a bit of an annoyance who preferred to warm the beds of others than to do his duty, but when called on was like a hound to the scent of blood. His tracking ability was the best in the church, if not the land itself. Valerie, on the other hand, was one of the Silent Ones, able to move through entire warzones and enemy encampments as if taking an afternoon stroll, unseen and unchallenged. And finally Mevan, a large, stoic figure. He had been trained to be a druid as a child, before leaving the service of his circle for the ability to actually help people rather than shut them out. Using the druidic circle secrets, Mevan was able to change parts of himself to be more beast than man, and was even able to speak to animals as if they were humans. The inquisitor herself was able to speak to beasts, but preferred to avoid it if at all possible.
She shifts her grip on her shield, scarred and calloused hands setting it more firmly toward herself. Her foot slipped into a deeper snow drift than she had expected, but she continued onward without removing her eyes from her surroundings, focus unmoved. This man was a degenerate that didn’t deserve to be called human. A creature that had sold all manner of beast and person, regardless of race, age or ethnicity. Sea dwellers, mountain kin, humans, it didn’t matter as long as he could turn a profit. His outfit had been wiped out, all of the survivors hung in front of the capital city of the kingdom of Tiver, Yumin. The royal family themselves strung up the offenders, ending their lives by their own hands.
An hour of marching goes by, the team communicating by whistles to make sure everyone was still in line, when a whistle calls out to the inquisitor’s left, two pairs down. The whistle was long and loud, then short and low, and then short and loud. It seems Joshua had found footprints. She whistles once, long and loud, telling everyone to join back in. As she moved toward her left, she could see torches between the trees circling a single tree. She steps between the trees to be greeted by the sight of Joshua crouched as close to the ground as possible, inspecting a spot at the base of one of the trees.
He looks up at the inquisitor, nods once then says, “It’s ‘im. ‘e sat ‘ere fer a time. Mayb’, mm, twe’y minutes.” The soldiers move out of her way as she stomps through the calf-deep snow. “Where’d he get to,” she growls. Joshua shakes his head. “Tha’s the thin’. Can’ find ‘is trail. Jus’...dis’ppears.” The inquisitor looks around for Mevan, spotting him as he comes up from where she had come from along with one of the soldiers. She inclines her helmed head toward him wordlessly, to which he nods. With a cracking sound and a grimace on his face, veins popping out, Mevan’s face began to change. With a pained snarl, his nose was replaced with one much like a bear’s. He snuffed the air a few times at the site, eyes following some unseen trail. He beckons toward further into the dark forest, taking point ahead of the rest and staying just out of torchlight.
She whistles once, low and sharp, and the group began to file after Mevan. The inquisitor murmurs under her breath, “Val.” Instantly, Valerie appears toward her side, walking as if she had always been there, veiled face only showing her mouth. She stepped through the snow as everyone else, but behind her was undisturbed snow. “Scout ahead, formation 3.” Without a response, Valerie stepped quickly into the forest on the inquisitor’s left side, melding into the darkness. She would move just ahead of Mevan in a diagonal line, making sure he wouldn’t fall into any traps. The problem with many of the forms he could take, they gave him some benefit only to have something else to be taken. In this case, she thought, it’s fortunate Valerie can give him sight when he’s sightless.
Moving forward, the snow seemed to be undisturbed, as if neither beast or person had ever been through this part of the forest in its entire, timeless lifetime. On top of that, for following the trail of a man who left clues of his whereabouts like shining bread crumbs, this was strange indeed. The inquisitor grits her teeth, but contains her thoughts. Mevan’s massive frame stops ahead of them and hunkers down in the snow, looking forward. Putting out her light with a wave in front of it, she signals to the others behind to cap their torches and stay low. Near instantly the order was perceived and carried out, the area enveloped by darkness. Moving up next to Mevan, the inquisitor peers forward into the darkness ahead with Valerie coming up next to her, crouching.
As her eyes became used to the darkness, she could almost see a silhouette just beyond, amidst a clearing. Moonbeams pierced the thick canopy above and filtered down to the snow in the clearing. She could make out what seemed like a medium sized cottage in front of her. Waving forward slightly, Valerie moved, crouched, to the wall beyond. She stepped up onto an object in the dark, peering into what looked like a window. Stepping back down and keeping low, she silently ran up to the side of the cottage and peered around the corner, before coming back to the inquisitor. She murmurs under her breath, imperceptible from any save the inquisitor. “I see nothing. The inside is empty, and looks dirty and unkept. As if a monster dens here. No sign of the slaver.” The inquisitor nods before waving to all to follow slowly and quietly.
Moving forward, she discovers the window Valerie had peered into but passes by it. She moves up to the left corner of the cottage and sees a door, the snow lighter than anywhere else. She stands fully, unsheathes her sword and leads the group to the door. On one side, the soldiers’ captain takes up his position while Joshua takes the other. Grasping the door handle lightly, Joshua nods to the captain. Receiving one back, he yanks the door toward him and the captain enters the cottage quickly, brandishing his sword in front of him. Two more soldiers enter, followed by the inquisitor.
The smell was one of rotting meat and vegetables, a chair and small table set in front of the hearth. The kitchen on the right had what looked like old bird carcasses and rotting vegetables hanging from the ceiling. Hooks and knives cluttered the stovetop, old blood dried along the counter, floor and washbasin. The inquisitor signals to two soldiers to re-light their torches as more soldiers move into the cottage and begin inspecting every inch. In the light, she could see a door on the far side and signals for three more to go check it. She moves next to Joshua who was crouched in front of a floor hatch. He tugs on it, but it doesn’t budge. He reaches into his belt and produces his lockpick set and starts to work on it. Soon the catch springs and he lifts the hatch just enough to peer inside, seeing steps leading downward.
One of the soldiers comes back from the room and motions for the inquisitor before moving back into the room. She follows only to be hit by a horrid stench as she gets close to the door. Gritting her teeth, she enters the room. A large bed greets her, it’s sheets foul and covered in a dried sludge. A broken mirror stands against one of the walls, a broken dresser next to it. Just beyond, the window was caked with dirt and more sludge, the once clear view now yellow and nearly opaque. One of the soldiers stabs his sword gently into the sludge on the floor, breaking it open. The smell of old blood permeated the already horrid room, the rust colored liquid seeping onto the floor. The inquisitor steps out of the room quickly, hardened eyes looking around. In one of the corners of the room, she spots a small totem of bones with a rat skull on top of it. She hisses, “Yanir! Step away from the hatch!” Joshua’s curious face sets to alarm and he hisses down into the cellar.
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