Mage X Orc Chapter 18-B Interlude: City Hunter Senta
Senta Blackswallow RazorRiver kicked in the door at just the right angle to send it flying off it's hinges. It was a skill, one the old Hunter had honed in her long service to the clan. The heavy door crashed into a bedraggled woman who was set to skewer the first person through with a heavy spear. A foolish attempt in Senta's opinion, a true ambush predator would strike from above or below, not where the prey was guaranteed to be looking. Proof indeed that their foes were amateurs.
The crossbow bolt that flew towards her back might have argued against that sentiment, but Senta would have simply pointed out that any of her Hunters could have timed the attack to hit the moment she kicked the door. Combined with the spear wielding traitor they might have had a chance to scratch her.
As it was the grizzled woman ducked low, letting the bolt hit a piece of the broken door, then whirled to give chase to the crossbow's wielder.
The masked woman was shocked at the sudden change, tossing her weapon to the side as she scrambled away from the open window. She didn't need to bother, unlike her peers Senta disdained the use of thrown weapons. They never seemed to hit where she was aiming, and she had grown tired of begging for spares and repairs in her youth.
Instead she focused on closing in, leaping up to the window in a single bound. The assassin had seemingly decided against running right away. A smart decision, as anyone would have a difficult time outrunning a Hunter in close pursuit. Instead the black clad killer swung a pair of axes at Senta the moment she cross the window's border.
A thin blade intercepted the higher of the axes, and Senta leapt over the lower, catching the assassin by surprise again as the Hunter tackled the woman to the ground. At this range traditional use of the sword was unwieldy, so Senta didn't bother, opting instead to punch the masked woman in the face with her blade's crossguard.
Reinforcing herself with aura the black clad killer took the blow, keeping her head from snapping back, though blood flowed freely from her broken nose. A gurgling curse escaped the assassin's lips, and she tried to bring the axes in her hands back to hit the Hunter in the head. It was an awkward and desperate move with little power behind it, but did raise the assassin's arm to the perfect angle for Senta's blade to skewer it.
The Hunter wasn't one to look down on such lovely opportunities, and so rammed her steel into her foe's arm at the same time as she dropped her head forward in a vicious headbutt.
The already smashed nose offered no resistance, even when aura reinforced. There was just a wet squelch that sent the killer's eyes rolling back in her head. Senta bashed the side of her opponent's head with the pommel of her blade for good measure.
With her foe suitably unconscious, her wispy aura sputtering, the old Hunter reacquired her first target.
She looked out of the window checking to see if her other foe had bothered to move.
She had. The first assassin, or whatever position the woman held amongst the traitors was booking it down the road at high speed. No weapon was clutched in the desperate woman's hands, Senta sneered, the extra weight wouldn't have slowed the woman down much. A warrior would never have dropped her weapon like this.
Senta went high, leaping between the close set buildings with pulses of aura, closing in on her prey with each jump. Every handful of heartbeats the frightened woman would glance over her shoulder, trying to spot the Hunter on her trail. A foolish instinct in Senta's eyes, proper fleeing required dedication to escape. Wasted time spent looking for your pursuer would be better spent searching for an escape route.
Taking a moment to be thankful for stupid enemies Senta positioned herself to strike at the woman's back.
She lunged, and her prey screamed as she darted into an alley to escape. Two steps behind Senta drew her second blade, and with a last burst of aura she ran close enough to deliver a bloody pair of cuts to her foe's legs. Instantly the woman dropped, gasping as she bounced off the filthy ground and crashed into a wall.
"No!" the traitor screamed. "No, please don't!"
"I'm not doing anything yet fool." Senta growled. "I'm just catching a beast in the shape of a woman. One who we need to ask some pointed questions."
The woman had rolled herself onto her back, clutching her legs as they bled freely. Her sickening green aura pulsed and twisted around her as it digested the pain.
"Questions?" the woman quailed. "I don't know anything. I only joined up recently, less than two dozen days ago! I didn't know what would happen."
"Let's start there then." Senta said with a low voice, stalking closer to her prey. "You joined up. Joined with what? What did they tell you they were doing?"
"My sister brought me in." the traitor sobbed out. "She said they were going to raise us all up. Us and the clanless, we were going to form our own clan, the true clan. That when we were done there wouldn't be be pushed down anymore."
Senta crouched, grinning.
"Go on." she drawled, raising her blade to press the tip against the traitor's gut.
"I didn't understand at first." she whispered now, the sheer terror gone from her voice, replaced by flinty fragility. "Sure we were no Hunters, but street sweeping and muckraking was noble enough work."
As the woman spilled her tale Senta looked around. This was a poorer area of the city. Ironically less clean despite being home to many of the orcs who kept the rest of the city swept. Yet it was far from squalor. Every building had an intact door, she could smell cookpots stewing breakfast. Senta had seen far worse in Quester camps.
"But that's the point." the woman continued, gritting her teeth against the pain. "We're not Hunters, nor Scavengers. Not warriors at all. Because you kept us locked up in the city until our auras settled. Made us think that we could never brave the Green."
She spat to the side.
"You've made us thralls. Bound to your whims." the traitor hissed, iron returning to her eyes as the pain sunk in. "You've changed the order of things. Look at me, I don't stand a chance against a single Hunter. I'm weak because you can't stand the idea of competition. We don't even duel to be Chief anymore. It's making us all weaker, dragging us down. Imagine how glorious this city could be if the strongest could truly rise to the top."
Senta adjusted her grip on her blade. She wanted to rebuke the traitor, but she knew that wasn't the point of this.
"It's inevitable, regardless of what you do." the woman spat to the side again, the spit was flecked with blood. "You'll lose. Maybe not to us but more women are waking up to what they could be. They've seen that you're holding them back. And when they wake up to the truth you'll fall before a storm of steel."
The old Hunter couldn't take the dribbling madness any longer.
"Is that why you started killing farmers?" Senta whispered, pressing the tip of her blade to skin. "Ambushing them in the dark? Killing them for...what? To prove how strong you are?"
The blood drained from the woman's face.
"I don't know what you're talking about." the traitor lied. "We only went after the council."
"You needed to sharpen your auras didn't you?" Senta realized with sickening fascination. "You assumed that a laborer's aura wouldn't do the trick against the council so you decided to try a few murders to change yourselves. It may have even worked, your assassins drew blood, more than I would have expected."
Senta didn't like the hint of pride that sparked in the traitor's eye when she learned that.
"And yet." the Hunter drawled, her sense of disgust mixing with contempt. "Here you are. At the end of my blade. Because you're weak. Not weak due to your aura, or your skill. You're weak because you're a traitor. No, worse, you're the follower of a traitor. You looked at a group of women who turned their back on every oath and speck of honor, and decided that yes, these are worthy companions. And where are they now?"
The old Hunter flicked her head around dramatically, examining the dirty alley.
"Where are your saviors? Your strong friends in your time of need?" she sneered coldly. "Gone. Because you mistook bravado and opportunism for power. And that is why people like you will always lose."
The traitor opened her mouth, no doubt to continue the argument, but Senta had had enough of this theater. She smashed the fool in the throat, cutting off the response, and dragged the choking woman out of the alley by a leg.
These fools wanted strength? Senta would show them strength.