The scream of the one Jakos concerned the most was an instant alarm that spurred him into action. Without thought or hesitation, he broke into a run, feet pressing through dead leaves and entangled roots towards the source of the sound. He pulled his long-handled mace and gripped it tightly as if its familiar weight and feel would reassure his increasing panic. The attempt didn't work, however, as Jakos couldn't ignore her scream that cut to his very soul. It felt as if her very voice stretched and pulled everywhere at once, rippling into eternity, her blood-curdling cries stabbing through the air itself. He followed the sound of desperation, but the hunter knew it was merely a one-way destination as the lantern posts guided him forward ever deeper by its blue, gangrenous glow. His cries to call out her name, loud and sure and distorted by fear, fell on deaf ears as the only response Jakos heard was her continuous screams. He never felt more afraid for her than he for himself. He

Hunters for the Ferret Pt2 by Cedric-Scorch, literature

Literature

Hunters for the Ferret Pt2

Farah watched the interaction with growing amusement as the hunters bickered one another in a language uniquely strange to her ears. She could not make out the words, the flighty glottal tones and the deep, basso rumble of voices, but she understood right away when the hunter stabbed a gauntlet finger at the other’s arm, who was holding the wanted poster of what Farah presumed to be her portrait. The other hunter shot back at the pointer with a look, and he countered back at him, speaking something without restraint. On with the performance went, not backing down and lost in the moment, and Farah could not help but smile at the display until a playful chuckle escaped from her lips. Both the hunters fell silent after that and turned, shooting the ferret a black look that would give a poor mammal a heart attack. “Boys, boys, please,” she said, light and mellifluous in her tone, paws slowly raised mockingly as the two hunters bared their weapons at her. “I mean you no harm. I come in

Hunter's Snare.6 [end] by Cedric-Scorch, literature

Hunters for the Ferret Pt1 by Cedric-Scorch, literature

Hunter's Snare.5 by Cedric-Scorch, literature

Hunter's Snare.4 by Cedric-Scorch, literature

Literature

Hunter's Snare.4

Chapter 4 Daron squandered little time for action as he calmly depressed on the weapon’s trigger. He counted at least two of them, stealthily mingling in the smoky shroud, shadowing him with lethal intent. While he viewed this with some concern that they managed to get so close and personal, that moment of weakness soon subsided when he fired his crossbow. Unlike most weapons that took only a single shot, its reloading outright laborious and time-consuming, his was of a different design, a far more lethal tool that the inhabitants of this world had yet to master. Rounding with known surety, he directed his crossbow towards the encroaching shadows to unleash a blinding arc of missile bolts, scything away through the scene like seasoned harvest. So rapid were the shots that they blurred and wisped away in notes of whistling projectiles. The sound was quite distinct for any ear to listen to. One caught the sound in stark recognition and retreated further into the smoke, avoiding much

Hunter's Snare.3 by Cedric-Scorch, literature

Literature

Hunter's Snare.3

Chapter 3 Daron quirked a brow at the result from a single bolt, features slowly twisting into slight confusion. He pulled away from the weapon’s scope, cocked his head and gazed far ahead as a great plume of smoke billowed up high in the dark sky, spreading wide in mass. So dense was the forming cloud that the hunter could not perceive to confirm if the entire group had either perished from the detonated eruption or not. Despite the shot that had struck home that ended the knight, the radius from the blast was not what he’d expected. Of course, he didn’t deny a little overkill to achieve a higher, successful hunt, but this brought questions. Questions that suddenly stabbed into his very thoughts of this unexpected conundrum. Did he overdo it with the powder canister again? Had the explosive bolt he used been too effective? Or did the knight simply conceal some illegal substances or flammable material to create a cataclysmic reaction? Daron swiftly banished them with a shake of

Hunter's Snare.2 by Cedric-Scorch, literature

Literature

Hunter's Snare.2

Chapter 2 "Stuck in a crummy patrol under freezing temperatures. What a life," Eoin Neylan muttered with feeling. The young grey wolf tightened the collar around his neck firmly. Under normal circumstances he would welcome the prospect of a challenge worthy that befits a true son of Allemance, but this must surely take the cake. Miles back, the population of Sourisport lived comfortably in their homes, rested by the warmth of the fire. And here he was, in the dark and freezing weather, riding in the middle of the night where the bitter winds constantly howled and without reprieve. His head slightly craned sideways to stare at the hooded figure in front of him, along with the helmeted paladin and two levies trailing in the rider’s wake. Indeed, once his mission was complete, he would formally request the sergeant for another assignment that suited well to his task. Maybe at the human city of Patrie, perhaps, or even the capital of Louvain. "Quit yer moaning, rookie. A job is a job,

Hunter's Snare.1 by Cedric-Scorch, literature

Literature

Hunter's Snare.1

Chapter 1 A cold breeze whistled long on the cold and starry night. So cold, in fact, that it chilled Daron to the bone. He resisted, of course, through an effort of will, not allowing himself to give in or even dare to move an inch of muscle. However, in the last part, he struggled hard to remain still as his legs suddenly cramped. The hunter had been stuck in this abandoned mill for some time now, surveying the lands below as his tired eyes fixed on the long, empty road. He must have checked a hundred times and more to find simply nothing. Nothing except the green plains and golden wheat fields that were as tall and high as his neck. Despite this, the land of Allemance had always been a sight of spectacular wonder. Of steppes that outstretched from the horizon and filled with communities of farms, pastures, and vineyards. No wonder many beasts had called this place the green heart of the world. Yet, for all its good side, there came with a disadvantage. For one there were few

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