CHPT 413: The Hound-Adept Hunter

Following the feeding of Monster corpses to the godly altar that came in the form of an ominously dark and deep well, Claude and Cassidy roamed through the culturally rich and diverse lands of Camaco. The rich and architecturally sufficient side of the city came in waves-- usually centered around holy places, but, when there were none present, the place began to look very similar to SkyHaven..... even worse at times.

Not that it mattered. So far, nobody felt bad enough to take a man riding a Dinosaur. Not that they'd reach him anyway. Whoever got too close would be mauled by Loba before they could get a word out. Unapproachable, watched-- but no suspicion in the ways he was used to. Perfect. Perfect conditions to scout the area around him, scent the air, watch for potential ambushes and any changes in his new source of interest.

Cassidy.

They'd left the well and entered a state of silence.

"Well god damn, are you going to ask a question or should I just off myself to end the suspense?" Cassidy suddenly said.

Claude almost missed it due to the large circle of people at the end of the block watching a man and woman fight. No weapons. No armor. Just shirts, pants and wrapped fists..... and of course the odd fireball and vortex of wind.

"Boxing. Very common here-- a combative sport of the old world that's been able to keep up with the times..... and evolve on it's own as you see." Cassidy explained as if his previous question was never made.

Claude's eyes stayed glued to the spectacle as they passed, drawing the eyes of the large crowd that began shouting unintelligible sweet nothings to them while they held out money and foul-smelling drinks.

The fighters in the center of the human circle never paid the two outsiders and their dinosaur any mind. The fight continued, all in variations of punching combos, feints and elemental manipulation that would've made Rollan proud.

As they passed the backyard boxing match, Claude turned to face Cassidy.

"What's your real name?"

Cassidy smiled faintly, "Cassidy. Is your real name Claude? Or is that just what the bear-girl calls you?"

"What's your full name?" Claude asked, ignoring the second half of his question as they traveled down the busy street. The smells of street food were on a whole other level compared to SkyHaven. The spices-- the meats.... the blood. He almost forgot he was supposed to be interrogating someone... sort of.

"Cassidy Coldhart. Your turn."

"That sound familiar in any way?" Claude thought.

"[I'm afraid it sounds like nothing but average.]" Arne replied calmly.

Cassidy threw his hands up and got a brief shout from a chubby old woman walked beside him, "C'mon, wolfboy! This relationship is supposed to be built on trust. Trust is a game played by many.... not one."

"[Points have been made.]"

Claude sighed, "Claude Grey."

Cassidy nodded as he stuffed his calloused hands back into his pockets, "Grey.... hmm.... a fitting surname for a man of the Wolves.... even more fitting considering your moral alignment I'd say."

"What does that mean?" Claude replied.

"Nothing." Cassidy replied with a faint smile.

Claude fell back into silence. Studying-- watching and talking wasn't easy. Especially when talking on its own wasn't always his strongest skill. So, he stayed silent. Feeling like the Horse-sized Primal he rode was his very own boat, splitting the complex smelling and dark colored sea of people as he ventured forwards, followed only by a man that once hunted him.... or never did to begin with.

He needed more answers. But if he learned anything from Rollan-- another mysterious individual, the direction of where your questions went was as important as each question asked... if not more so.

Starting from the beginning felt ideal. Unlike the amount of people on the current street they walked. After a few minutes, they rounded a corner-- and another, and crossed through an alley until they'd found themselves on a quieter street.

The echoes of the busier areas and the smells of blood-filled wells were all that kept them company for the time being.

"Where are you from?"

"Outskirts of the Paso District."

"That's... that's not very far from here." Claude said aloud.

"Where do you think I learned the language?" Cassidy questioned with a white toothed smile.

Claude stared at him blankly.

Cassidy sighed loudly, "You don't know history..... do you?"

"I... I know history." Claude shot back weakly.

"Oh yea, Wolfboy? Then why is it called the Paso District?"

"..... Arne.... help me right now."

Arne scoffed, "[I'm your Lupine Guide-- not a history tutor, you wanker!]"

"If you were real I'd strangle you."

"I think that means... you don't know, huh?" Cassidy suddenly said.

"Yea, yea. Get on with it." Claude growled.

"Well.... a couple decades ago, word of a Dragon in Islandia had the world in shambles..... you know how it is. Somebody says Dragon and suddenly everyone's jumping at shadows and locking up Beast Tamers with Lizards under suspicion of them being DracoKin...."

"Ok..." Claude replied, trying to follow Cassidy's story.

"Well. We know..... Dragons are large-- and they sleep... blend in with their surroundings. Become it. That's a terrible thing to think about when you live in a place that houses one of the longest rivers in all of New Gloria."

"The Rio Grande...." Claude said.

Cassidy nodded, "Most people wouldn't go near that damn river for years. I happened to live a few miles away from it."

"So you lived in seclusion-- How the fuck does this explain you being bilingual?" Claude questioned.

"Patience, partner. I said most... people. Then again, there's folks desperate enough to venture into a lake that may very well be the scaled back of a sleeping Sea Serpent."

"Why?" Claude asked.

"Escape. That river was a border-- a pass, that runners could cross to reach some form of safety on the other side."

"Paso District."

"Pass..... you get it. Simple stuff." Cassidy said with a shrug.

"So... people were running from what here? Camaco?"

Cassidy nodded, "Sacro-Fiends were a big thing here a bit ago. Religious nutcases. Back when Camazotz chose a new Warrior..... he went mad. Told the people here he needed some crazy number of folks sacrificed in his name. Innocent people-- apparently their blood is richer."

"The fuck...."

"Kids are the most innocent people on earth.... even if they can be little shits."

"So..." Claude said.

"So. I grew up around Camacian Refugee's. I learned the language pretty quick-- I'm smart like that. Along the way I learned how Transporters were able to use the River-Pass to save thousands of kids.... hell, it got so bad New Gloria's Legion of Magisters almost sent The Nine after him."

Claude thought it all over. He hadn't heard of every Districts Grand Magister coming together to form the Legion of Magisters since.... well, it's inception-- aside from small disputes and treaties. If that wasn't enough of a shock, imagining Ronin, The Red Knight and all the other members of The Nine fighting a blood crazed follower of Camazotz definitely was.

"Well.... that's an explanation." Claude said finally.

"Yea. It was quite the upbringing. The other kids didn't like me much anyway..... as you'll soon find, I was an outsider in my own right." As Cassidy said it, the winds ruffled his hood and gave way to his cold yellow eyes. Upon seeing them, one could almost miss how bizzare they were. No glow, no shimmer. Just a cool yellow as if it were a natural human color.

Next question. It came to him as they reached an Armor-Smith in one of the lower valued portions of Camaco.

***

Claude stood outside, thinking over everything in the dark of night. Diamondback paced in front of the Armor Smith while Cassidy purchased a myriad of things inside-- not just for himself, but everyone. They had a ... boat, to catch after all.

A half hour later and he stepped outside with a leather bag as big as himself hanging off his back, another while later, and he was trying on a new set of low-quality gear.

"Can't wait to shift and rip through this..... fucking love wasting money as a broke and endangered species." Claude growled.

"Uh... no. That should grow with you... at least most of it." Cassidy said.

"What?" Claude questioned.

"Look at it." Cassidy said.

Claude's eyes panned down to the armor he wore. Another set of light, breathable gear. Black reinforced leather padding-- only now it was speckled with accents of dark green and silver, tied down and tightened by... well, it wasn't string. It was tight but gave with the flexion of his muscles. That same lining ran through the straps for the armoring over his torso and back along with the collar lined with dark grey fur and the pauldron that sat on his left shoulder.

"Well..... it's..... expressive." Claude replied.

"Yea, you're the main focus."

"What?" Claude questioned.

"You're riding a damn Dinosaur. If you don't have decent armor befitting a decent Beast Tamer smarter people will question you. Now, you look like you're supposed to be seated on Diamondback's scales."

"[You could always say you're a naturalist, but this is a solid point.]"

"And that.... that's reinforced Gnoll intestine and Horse hair." Cassidy said while pointing at the lining in Claude's armor that caused it to feel less constricting.

"It's newer in terms of Modern Armor Smithing..... but I had a buddy. He was a Beast Tamer-- he owned a Serpent..... and when he used to bulk up, he'd blow through his armor like no tomorrow. I was surprised they had the same stuff here. I guess its making the rounds. It's pretty easy to make after all."

"[Brilliant.]" Arne whispered.

"What. you didn't have Lupine Armor?"

"[Of course, we did. Shifter's Metal. But it was nothing like this. Much more complex-- expensive.... probably a great deal stronger. But even so... this is worlds better than what you've been working with.]"

"I agree..." Claude said before removing the shoes and one of the gauntlets, "What else is in the bag?"

Cassidy opened it for him to peer into. All he found were heaps of leather strapped metal, helmets, torn cloaks and boots..... comically large and small boots.

"I was on a budget."

"Right..... that's why you bought out the entire clearance section."

Cassidy smacked his lips, "Man, how the hell else are we supposed to sneak a Satyr on a boat without full coverage?"

"Fair enough. Let's go."

***

So, the talking continued as they traveled through Camaco. Claude now watched the shadows a bit harder-- viewed the statues of their patron god with a bit more unease, following the story of Cassidy's life around Sacro-fiend fleeing Refugee's. And, he continued. Explaining his upbringing with a single mother-- he said his relationship with his father was profound.... but complicated. He said it shaped him in many ways, but also almost got him and his family killed.

"What does that mean?" Claude asked.

"You see, my father-- he was a member of the Detection Corps."

"Your father was a Detective?"

"[Well... that explains a lot.]"

Cassidy nodded, "And if I know anything... I can safely guess one of your parents studied Monsters and Animals alike..... Tangent Biologist?"

"Father." Claude said flatly.

"Hm. How is he?"

"Dead..... Murdered." Claude whispered.

"Same." Cassidy said as if they were discussing the weather.

"The same reason that almost got you all killed?" Claude asked.

"Yes and no. My father was a Detective..... until he wasn't. He quit the job officially before even I was born... but he kept up the practice with his new job... his new duty. It put him in the sights of bad people.... because he was doing a good thing. He worked with the Transporters to help kids cross the pass into New Gloria. He did Coven Raids, Cleansed Infested Areas where he found them-- he kept our territory as clean as a baby's behind."

"He sounds like a great man."

"He was..... he gave me some of my greatest gifts-- taught me life lessons effortlessly. But, because of what he was-- he could never truly be my father. Only a figure-- a level, I could aspire to and witness in fragments."

Suddenly, Claude was thrown off. "What he was....?"

The empty street suddenly felt quieter than ever as Cassidy removed his hood. He had long hair, gelled back smooth against his head and tinged with greyed hairs. The stubble that lined his jaw crawled all the way up to the tops of his high cheekbones, stopping just beneath his eyes in jagged points. Everything about him seemed normal-- aside from the long scar running across the side of his head. Three jagged lines starting at the base of his hairline and going all the way to the back of his head. It was..... enough to make many cringe. But it wasn't the focus. It only aided in giving more mystery to his eyes.

"My eyes ain't like this for no reason, partner."

Claude's adrenaline picked up if only for a moment as he scented the air. Nothing. But it had to be something.....

He suddenly remembered his question again.

"Why did your father quit being a Detective?"

"He found that being Alpha of the Paso WereWolf-Pack was a more purposeful career....."