“The gods wage their wars not with swords, but with whispers. Weaving the fates of mortals and kingdoms alike. Though their hands have yet to touch the Scarred Lands since creation, their shadows loom over every choice, every fall, and every rise.” 

~ Excerpt from The Song of the Heavens, by G. Francois, Founder of the Runebound Vigil

The taste of dirt, grass, and roots filled Andrei’s mouth as he slammed against the ground with an alarmingly strong force. The earth below convulsed beneath him, contorting softly in protest. He growled in annoyance, muffled by the intruding dirt that packed his mouth. He looked up, seeing the shadow of the runt that did this scurry off into the twisting, contorting trees that surrounded them. The coward didn’t have it in him to finish his pursuer then and there, or maybe he was too nervous about getting caught by Andrei’s associate. Andrei stood up and took a moment to collect himself, spitting out the invading dirt and grime that should’ve stayed on the ground. He groaned in disgust as the overwhelming sounds of chirping birds and insects masked his displeasure at the situation.

 As strands of his white hair fell into his view while cleaning out his mouth, Andrei took a moment to put it back into a small bun. Once done, he brushed off his dark leather and scale armor along with his ashen gray skin before doing his best to follow his target in silence. He wasn’t too worried about the runt getting away. After all, this man was running off of fumes and desperation at this point. Which surprised him all the more that he sneaked up on him and bring him to the ground with such force. Andrei ducked behind trees and bushes, his eyes matching a similar shade of the surrounding greenery. He looked around, attempting to glimpse either his target or his associate, both of which seemed to have conveniently disappeared, leaving Andrei alone with his thoughts.

 As he crept around the forest like a lion searching for prey, Andrei’s concentration broke as he heard the trees and branches to the right of him rustle from movement. He glanced around and did his best to remain hidden within the foliage, not wanting to take a risk and get spotted by someone other than his ally. Slowly, a well-fed doe walked into a clearing, glancing around her, ears perked up attentively. Andrei cursed himself. This wasn’t what he was after. Though if he was out here, perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to bag some game. Surely, a butcher would be interested back in Valeaux. He pushed the thought aside, knowing that he had to focus on his bounty. At another look of the doe, he noticed a fresh cut near its hind leg, viscous blood slowly dripping from the wound. Appearing man made, the cut lacked the size or savageness of another beast in the wilderness. Other than the cut, it appeared to be unharmed, given the recent wound. The doe’s lack of fright surprised him. If he was lucky, this was a sign from the runt he was chasing, rather than his absent partner.

 He awaited in silence, his eyes not leaving the doe as it casually sniffed the ground. He waited in anticipation of a barbaric and uncivilized war cry, waiting to see the doe jump in fear, but the moment didn’t come. The doe stared at Andrei through the bushes, or maybe beyond him, with a vacant look. He scanned the perimeter again and to his left noticed a figure of a man, hidden behind a shadowy, towering oak, looking intensely at the doe. Compared to the tree, the man appeared fidgety, struggling to stand still. Andrie squinted, wanting to confirm his target before doing anything rash. Now both were observing the oblivious doe, the wind gently rustling the surrounding leaves as the birds continued to sing.

 With the other watcher distracted, Andrei slowly pulled out his bola. The branches in the bush slowly scraped against his hand and arm as he did so. Suddenly, the other man attempted to pounce on the injured doe like a hungry bear. The doe, hearing the sudden movement, jumped and galloped off to Andrei’s right, leaving the man in the clearing, cursing at the doe with a gritty, fatigued voice. Getting a better look at the man showed exactly what he wanted to see. A lanky, tall man, as if some horrid machination of the Corrupted King stretched him out. He had short brown hair and was wearing a very worn set of leather armor. Most interestingly, one of his hazel eyes appeared to be glass. It moved uncannily, making Andrei hold back a full body chill as he stared at it. There was no mistake now. This runt matched the description given perfectly. Given the man’s stature, perhaps “runt” was an unfitting name. Though from what Andrei had heard, his behavior certainly was that of a runt.

 As his target walked away from him, deeper into the forest, Andrei knew he had to take the opportunity before he slipped away again. Taking a deep breath, Andrei quickly leaped out of the bushes. Hearing the rustling, the quarry sprinted away. Before he could get far, Andrei threw the bola at his target’s legs. Quickly, the bola’s tendrils snaked around his legs, constricting him with a cold, uncaring grip. Andrei ran up to the man, who was busy trying to get untangled. The man’s breath quickened as he looked up at Andrei, nervous sweat running down his dirt covered face.

 “Wh-what do you want?” The runt asked in a harsh, weathered voice, betraying his outward appearance. He desperately tried to get the restraints off his legs, but his rising panic only made it harder for him to undo the bindings.

 “I’m here to collect,” Andrei said with stern authority, taking out a spare rope to tie the man’s hands. His gaze was cold and uncaring, and he gripped the rope tightly with shaking fists, doing his best to hide his anger. The runt slamming him into the ground earlier didn’t help his case.

 As Andrei approached closer to the trembling target, the man punched Andrei in the jaw with a force he wasn’t expecting from the feeble man. Andrei reeled back, blinking and looking down at his hand in shock. As he recovered, the runt undid the bola and took off through the trees. The bounty hunter let out a growl of annoyance again, shaking off the hit.

 “Don’t get too comfortable when your prey still has usable limbs…” he thought to himself in anger, frustrated that he squandered the opportunity. “Where’s that damned mercenary when you need him?”

 Fearing losing the hunt, Andrei bolted through the trees like a hungry predator after his next meal. He wasn’t too worried about the man getting away. There was only so much running he could do before he needed to rest. And he would chase him to that point if he had to. The runt had dropped all semblance of stealth and entered a state of full self-preservation. All Andrei had to do was follow the dense, rustling bushes and tree branches swaying, smacking anyone who dared get too close as they swung back in defiance. Luckily, though the day drew to a close, a sufficient amount of sunlight still pierced through the suffocatingly nigh impenetrable treeline.

 With every step, he could feel himself get closer to the thief. It would seem that the runt kept tripping on exposed roots, as if the earth itself sought retribution for dragging Andrei through the dirt. Andrei kept up with ease, and the longer the chase went on, the more Andrei felt like he was simply running in circles after him. Unfortunately, the condensed, sturdy trees made it difficult for Andrei to get a good enough view to throw another bola at him. Aggravated, Andrei balled his fist, concentrating as he continued the chase. He focused on the runt, thinking of what would distract him the most. The roar of a mighty, starving, desperate beast reverberated inside Andrei’s skull as he continued to manifest the sound. As he raised his balled fist, a green light enveloped it. Once the sound was near deafening to him, he threw his hand forward as if throwing a ball at his bounty. The light danced about in the air before hitting his target in the back. For a moment, a similar green glow enveloped the man before he seemed to freeze in fear next to a small stream.

Seizing his chance, Andrei picked up his pace, grabbed his rope and jumped, tackling the man just as he turned to face his pursuer. Fuming with anger, Andrei threw him into the cold, hard ground below them. The runt squealed in fear, surprise, trying to wrestle Andrei off of with his cold, clammy hands. Disgusted, Andrei did his best to tie the man up, but the runt tried to squirm out of the hold he was stuck in. Every movement the runt took was brutish and animalistic, frantically trying to break free, even by flailing his arms and legs about like a dying fish. The runt’s breaths were heavy and agitated, trying to use the last of his energy in a last ditch effort to escape. Andrei was growing increasingly impatient, eyes frantically trying to keep track of his captive’s limbs.

“Please… just… let me go!” the runt said between labored breaths, still being difficult. “I can give you something worth more than whatever they’re paying you!”

Andrei had heard this plea a thousand times before, and by now it’d just gotten annoying. Coupled with everything else this runt had done to piss him off, Andrei punched him into submission. After a few failed escape attempts, the runt finally stopped flailing. Using the last of his strength, he let his captor tie him in relative peace, accepting his fate.

 After tying his hands and feet tighter than a miser’s coin bag, Andrei searched the weathered, damaged pockets of the man, but the only thing he found were holes and patches where skin was showing. “Where’s the book, Jean?!” Andrei asked through gritting teeth, trying to resist the urge to punch his captive again, still having the lingering taste of dirt in his mouth.

 “I-I-I don’t know!” He stammered, his one eye darting around sharply, contrasting the glass eye, observing Andrei with a cold, glossy stare. “I dropped it!”

 “Bullshit!” Andrei yelled, reeling back his hand and punched the runt in the face, “let’s try that again, shall we? Where is it?!”

 “I told you,” Jean said, his voice lowered closer to a growl, “I don’t know!”

 As if on cue, the two men heard another set of feet rushing towards them, the bushes and leaves brushing against the runner’s armor. They both looked to their right as another man appeared from the dark woods. Andrei let out a sigh of relief, recognizing the sun-kissed skin of his partner.

 “About time you showed up, Emil,” Andrei said, his voice sharp with frustration, “I hope you didn’t get distracted by your reflection in the river again…” he reluctantly stood up from his captive, who had a somber expression on his face.

 The man put a hand up to his chest, feigning offense, using his other hand to brush strands of his crow-black hair out of his face. “Come now, Andrei…” his voice flowed effortlessly, like rich velvet. “Do you really think I’m that conceited?” 

Andrei’s face bore a vacant gaze with no discernible emotion. “Do you have the book?” He asked, choosing to ignore the question.

Emil pouted, stroking his stubble for a moment as if considering Andrei’s avoidance. Contrasting Andrei’s colors, Emil patted around his brown, leather mercenary armor, eventually taking out an old, leather-bound book. Emil shook it in front of Andrei in a motion that invoked a mix of taunting and revelry.

Andrei turned back to face Jean, who was busy trying to break apart the rope that tied him up. He groaned as he strained more and more, but seemed to only be tiring himself out. Andrei tapped a finger on his chin rhythmically, deep in thought. Part of him wanted to keep him alive, if only for a bigger reward. But… interestingly, Andrei noticed that the glass eyes seemed to follow Andrei around just as Jean’s regular eye did. It was as if he had no missing eye at all. Andrei walked up to Jean, whose pupils seemed to quiver in fear. This only intrigued him more. How could that be possible?

The bounty hunter examined the glass eye again as Jean continued to stare at him with a fixed, unblinking gaze, paralyzed by fear. As he looked at the glass eye, he could faintly hear indiscernible whisperings that emanated from the back of his head. It felt like a persistent, gnawing of many ethereal voices fighting to be heard over the other. No matter how hard he tried to understand what the whispers said, he could never make out any words. Despite not knowing what the words were, he understood the meaning of them.

Jean continued to flail about and escape from his ropes. He looked even more like a runt than Andrei had originally thought. Jean’s focus was so devoted to trying to escape from his binds that he didn’t even notice Andrei had drawn an ax from his side. The bounty hunter had already had this desire when Jean first eluded him, but the eye seemed to beckon him with its otherworldly calls, urging him to fulfill the desire he had been craving. 

“Please!” Jean exclaimed, his voice high and shaking in his restraints. “I won’t steal anything ever again!” The runt held his hands above his head, as if praying to whatever gods were listening for help.

Andrei scoffed. Jean’s pleas echoed in his mind, sounding blurry, and slowed. “It’s too late for that, Jean.” His own voice seemed to fluctuate oddly as he reeled back his ax. Despite his pleas, Jean didn’t squirm or attempt to escape. Maybe he wasn’t a complete runt after all.