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Tale of Depravity

What makes "us" but our desires. "we" are on a quest to quench this thirst, -On the dawn of the third epoch of the human calendar, trouble is brewing in the western continent that will embroil the whole world of Arread, in the center of this conflict a series of events that involves black haired child and a blond man unravels the Mistry of its origins,

Urkmon · Fantasy
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21 Chs

Awakening

On a long downtrodden muddy road in the middle of the misty plains, a caravan of merchants navigated their path, slowly but in a practiced manner, from the confident movements of their escorts ahead they seemed familiar with the terrain,

A chiseled faced man in the forefront raised his arm to signal the caravan to stop, the man had a tall muscular build with blond wavy hair that resampled the warm rays of the morning sun, coupled with his high bridged nose and hawk shaped gray eyes he gave a stern but dependable atmosphere to his companions,

The man was adorned with a black linen garb covered by metal chest plate, leather pauldrons, greaves, and gauntlets,

There were about four more men with similar garb to the blond surrounding the caravan, all of them seemed well built and in good shape, upon seeing the man in front rise his hand they in a practiced manner set up camp, and survey the surroundings

A pig-like creature fumbled down one of the wooden carriages that carried the goods, the closer you get the more this pig resamples a human, that was not a pig in men wear, but a man so akin to the looks of a pig,

with small mouse-like eyes and large upturned nostrils this hideous bald man was the owner of the caravan, he approached the chiseled faced man in exaggerated self-important steps, the pig-like man adorned with purple silk robes and thick bear hide cloak cleared his throat and with a fuming nasal voice squealed,

"VINCENT!!

Why on earth have we stopped here!!!, we could have bushed for a little while and we might've made it to the edge of the swamp, or are you trying to hamper this caravan?

I will have you know that we are to deliver the goods to margrave Clifford as soon as possible lest you want to see me deduct your pay!"

All the pigman angry squeals fell on deaf ears, as the blond blatantly ignored him and started checking his gear,

On the backside of Vincent's lift gantlet was a small oval black shield mounted with subtle black blades on each side, a chain was coiled around a shaft bellow the shield which had a small clearance the chain was attached to a harp-like stake with inverted jiggered teeth around its body, it was placed on the palm side of his gantlet in a small pipe-like opening around his wrist, this was an articulate crossbow like mechanism for this small harp,

On his left hip a long single-edged black blade was mounted, it had a simple clean straight shape with no curvature, in the dark night no one will be able to tell the blade position or length, somehow with it simple design this blade had an ominous presence among the articles carried by this man,

Damn him, this half-baked hunter, once a mercenary always a mercenary, though he is skilled he is far disagreeable and uncouth, I cannot reason with him, the only reason that I have hired him was because no hunter will tread on the misty plains in this time of the year aside from his crew'

He scrunched up his face with displeasure, he fully knew that the misty planes were near un-maneuverable during the end of the fall season, once winter arrives the fog will scatter and sight will be restored but the misty plains will be still muddy and hard to navigate, still merchants will have better odds at surviving than going through it like blind men,

The man who was surveying the proximity returned to report to Vincent, the man glared at the pig-like person making him shirk taking two steps backward, the pig-like man reorganized himself and carried himself back to the carriage while trying to show off as much dignity as he can,

The returned man had a short brown hair and sharp almond-shaped green eyes,

He had a small old injury on his right eyebrow and like Vincent had a muscular tall build, but this man was slimmer and leaner than the otherwise bulky Vincent,

He carried on his back a short lustrous black bow, with sharp blades molded into its upper and lower limbs, oddly enough his quiver was attached to the upper side of his right hip, on the palm facing side of his gantlet around his wrist there were four leather frets holding three additional arrows, all his equipment seemed to favor speed of draw and counters to all situations whether he is far or near his target,

"he is still our employer for now"

Said Vincent in melodious yet uninterested tone as he gazed into the fog,

Inside the fog, the visibility was already bad enough, one could only see a few steps distance away,

The brown-haired man with his old injured eyebrow raised said with an irritated manner,

"this fucken oaf, he wants us to move at this time, he is just asking for his carriages to get stuck in the mud."

He scoffed as he added,

"And with the poor visibility, is he in his right mind, we will be like sitting ducks a nice treat for whatever godforsaken foul beasts roaming these accursed plains"

A deep growl like voice interrupted him, gentle but unhurried,

"you are being too impulsive Damian, if you keep glaring at him, he will think about getting back at you later"

A giant tanned man said in a teasing manner,

He was the third member of their group, he had black hair in a buzz cut and thick lush beard, multiple scars sizzled across his face, the most notable was a long gorge crossing his forehead towards his nose with a tilt, he resembled a giant warm brown bear,

Facing the two young men with his droopy honey colored eyes, he had a larger build than Vincent but with a gentler demeanor,

He wielded a great wooden studded shield with a black short battle ax, his battle ax hoisted on his left hip was single edged, on the other edge a hook shaped protrusion could be seen, the pommel and the eye of this ax had a stake like extensions that favored stabbing if you look closely you can see little sinister engravings about the ax body like gorges or veins containing trickles of dried blood,

His studded wooden great shield mounted on his left shoulder pad, had a multitude of spikes on its body they were rusty and acute giving a feeling of savagery that did not belong to a shield, this was no longer a tool of defense but a bonafide meat-grinding machine, this man might seem gentle but his tools were of a barbaric battle crazed man-eater,

Damian was startled by this giant crewmember, a drop of cold sweat trickled across his nose, as he stood stiffly,

Vincent faced in the direction of the Clifford domain through the shrouding fog he stared, while his companions were preparing for the long night ahead, he softly muttered to himself,

"let's hope this bad feeling is nothing but a figment of my imagination"

....

....

it's cold .. we thought, at least its better than burning to crisp, the sun is bad the sun must die a thought we shared but we understood the weight of those heretic words, thus we move to quench this thirst that is all what we can do right now'

We took a moment to feel our newborn body, we were many but now are one, we could feel our soft spine within the Slime-like texture of our newfound flesh our undergrown skull a hair's width away from snapping from our cortex,

We could feel the soil and earth beneath us with every gravels wroth as we sweep our flesh over it, the ticklish feeling of grass grazing our soft flesh while we slither around, the cold dewdrops on the grass as it makes contact with our body felt new,

We could sense soft wet particles around us, the cold humidity was perfect we thought, we kept slithering around looking for what could quench our thirst,

We could not see, as we still did not have eyes, we could not hear, as we still did not have ears, we could not speak, as we still did not have a mouth, our thoughts are hazy all we could think about is to quench this accursed thirst,

We could feel something from the earth, tremors, as they grow far, is someone … something moving in that direction, with only that simple thought we followed the guidance of mother earth.

Hunters:

A hunter is an odd-occupation with no clear boundaries for the scope of work treading on a gray moral zone, if traced historically the first hunters were called thus due to an outbreak incident, where a feudal lord in a remote frontier was destressed, his distress came about as a lack of labor during a beast stampede, there an idea struck him to commission skilled huntsmen to hunt the beast in exchange for a commission, they can claim the corpses of these foul things for all he cared, therein they took commissions from the city councils to hunt feral beasts that attacked the populace, this way every feudal domain could preserve the costs that otherwise they would have to use to hire more soldiers for the public safety purposes, speaking so, technically they were not much better than mercenaries only the target of their aggression differed one directed towards beast and other towards man, within the non-stampede seasons the hunters due to lack of anything better to do did odd jobs, thus this occupation morphed into something like an odd job seeker in society over the years, from escorts to searching for lost kittens as long as it has profit the hunters will oblige,

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