Blood of Dragons - The Hunter

*******

Jouzen was on his last legs. His body was begging for rest, every joint screaming in agony, pushed as far as they could go after another full day of travelling. Staying out of sight had not made it easier; whenever a suitable amount of cover was available, he had left the main road in order to remain unseen by anyone that might be travelling nearby. This had meant additional effort to pass through copses of trees and pick through foliage, and such obstacles had not improved his mood or his stamina. Physically adept he might be, but even Jouzen had his limits.

Now, as the night grew darker, it seemed that he had reached them. Hauling himself through the underbrush, he felt his muscles starting to give in. Yet he forced his feet forward, one step in front of the other, refusing to fail in his orders. To fail his mistress... he would rather wear out every bone in his body to the point of death.

A small mote of light appeared up ahead in the dark through the trees, bobbing up and down to the pattern of footsteps. His eyes adapted for the blackness of night, Jouzen blinked his fatigued eyes back into focus, and saw a short figure nimbly hopping over the gnarled roots. A halfling, without a doubt.

For the briefest of moments, Jouzen forgot his aching body as his heart leapt in triumph. Here at the point of him breaking, he had found his quarry, and she was heading directly for him no less. His determination, and his luck, had held out. He quickly ducked into the nearest bush, keeping his eyes on the halfling as she sat beneath the tree, not thirty feet away. The sudden motion prompted his joints to remind him that triumph aside, they were still very much strained. Jouzen gritted his teeth; fatigue or not, there was no way he could pass up this opportunity.

Attempting to clear the cloudiness from his mind, Jouzen concentrated on assessing the situation. His target was here, alone; it would be an easy ambush. He watched as she removed her gloves, then her cape, and the belts around her waist that held a set of daggers; unarmed now too. She was not carrying a pack of any kind either, so she likely did not have the statuette on her person; perhaps it would be more prudent to wait, follow her back to wherever her camp was and learn where she had stashed the -

Jouzen's thoughts of strategy were interrupted as he saw the halfling pull her tunic up, exposing a pair of perfectly rounded breasts, and begin to fondle herself.

He watched, transfixed as she played with her nipples, causing herself to gasp and moan. Jouzen's face flushed; he was no stranger to the female form, but his experience was extremely limited, and this halfling was completely different to anything he had seen before. She looked so much curvier and softer, the outline of her body begging to be touched and embraced. This was further emphasised as she pulled her trousers down around her knees, showing off her equally curvy rear.

As she lay down and toyed with her sex, Jouzen felt his blood start to flow to his groin. His brain, already tired and fuzzy, started to lose all sense of coherent thought as his manhood bulged in his pants. Jouzen shook his head and looked away, mentally chiding himself. He could not afford to lose focus right now, he had a job to do! Besides, she was a halfling; she was inferior to the majesty and perfection that was...

A shift in the shadows behind the halfling's tree caught Jouzen's attention. A large shape began to descend the trunk, completely unnoticed by the masturbating woman beneath it. It was humanoid in form, but with a bulbous abdomen and covered in short wiry hair; its limbs ended in sharp, three-fingered claws, and its face was split by a pair of fang-filled mandibles, just under a cluster of eight, beady black eyes.

Attercop! Jouzen realised. The spider-like monstrosity had been in the treetops, waiting for a vulnerable meal, and with the halfling completely absorbed in herself, she was easy pickings.

Jouzen reached behind his back and pulled out his own dagger from its hidden sheath. It was a special gift from the hoard, an enchanted blade possessed of a virulent poison. He had intended to use it on the thief that had dared to steal from his mistress, but that would have to wait. Until he located the statuette, he needed the halfling alive; the irony was not lost on him as he let the dagger fly.

The wicked blade buried itself in the attercop's side; it squealed in pain, losing its grip on the tree trunk and falling to the ground, breaking through several branches on the way down. The halfling was snapped out of her reverie, letting out a startled cry and rolling to the side to avoid the falling creature. She scrambled for her daggers, but her movement was impaired with her breeches still wrapped around her knees, and the attercop was faster. It recovered quickly, and lunged at her.

Its path was interrupted as Jouzen leaped from his hiding place, colliding with the attercop in mid-air, the two dark shapes tussling as they landed in the bushes. Jouzen braced his arm against the attercop's throat, forcing the snapping mandibles away from his own face as he reached for the still embedded dagger with his other hand. The attercop's flailing limbs prevented him from gripping the weapon's haft, and the weight of his opponent was putting pressure on Jouzen's already exhausted muscles. He felt his strength flagging, the attercop bringing its fangs closer and closer to his face.

The pressure was suddenly lifted as the attercop reared back and screamed; the halfling had retrieved her weapons and stabbed two of them into its back. Jouzen took the opening, slipping his hand around his dagger and twisting it. A burst of sickly green light shone from where the blade met flesh, virulent veins of poison spreading through the hair-covered skin. The attercop gurgled, its limbs twitching erratically, and slumped to the ground, the light fading from its glittering black eyes.

Jouzen saw the halfling, her breasts still on full display, staring at him. He attempted to remove his dagger, intending to... intimidate? Interrogate? Escape? It didn't matter that his brain couldn't decide, because it was at that point that his body decided it had had enough. Everything shut down, and he collapsed into the dirt face first. As his senses faded out, he could hear the sound of the halfling's retreating footsteps, and her voice calling for aid.

*******

"Is he going to be okay, Aela?" asked Trinn.

The dwarven cleric passed a glowing hand across the prone form of the black-clad man, the rest of the party gathered around and watching intently. "He should be. He has no serious injuries, he just seems to be exhausted. By the grace of the Battlemaiden he will live, but he's going to need to eat something as soon as he wakes."

"You really are amazing, aren't you?" said Rory, smiling at Aela, who blushed demurely. Trinn rolled her eyes.

"Anyone who wanders the woods at night dressed like that, has some ulterior motives in mind," said Thonan. "We should bind his hands and feet, in case he tries to attack us when he rises."

"So he looks a little shady, so what?" said Trinn.

"We might at least take his mask off," said Caylivandra in her typical monotone drawl. "Logically, if he is hiding his identity, he may be a wanted criminal, or even some kind of malignant entity attempting to pass as human. We should check to see if he is dangerous."

"He's fast asleep, it's not like he can do anything to us while he's passed out, is it? Not to mention, he saved my life!" said Trinn.

"Yeah, seems kinda rude," said Rory with a shrug.

"Whether or not he saved your life is immaterial!" said Thonan. "Your life wouldn't have needed saving if you had just stayed by the fire."

"And whose fault was it that I walked off in the first place?" said Trinn, raising an eyebrow pointedly.

"It was one coin! One that I would have paid you back for! Don't try and turn this on me!"

"Alright, that's enough!" said Aela sharply, standing up and putting her hands on her hips. Her face settled on a stern expression; despite being a head or more shorter than most of the party, they all quailed under her stare.

"Oooo, that's the mom look," whispered Trinn.

"Whoever this man is, he is no state to fight anyone, let alone all of us at once," said Aela, looking at each of the others in turn with her penetrating gaze. "We have him outnumbered, we have his weapon. When he wakes up, we will find out what he is doing here, and if he is dangerous we will deal with him appropriately. Until then, we shall watch over him; he saved the life of one of our own, and honour dictates that we treat him with respect." She arched her eyebrows. "Understood?"

Everyone nodded. Trinn stuck her tongue out at Thonan. "Toldja so!"

"Trinn, you're watching him," said Aela. "All night, if necessary."

"What? But I -" Trinn's protests withered under the cleric's glare. "Yes ma'am."

"Good, now that that's sorted, let's get back to sleep," Aela said brightly. "Thonan, don't forget to let Cayli know when your shift is done so that she can take over. Goodnight again, everyone!" Aela flicked her blonde braids over her shoulders and headed back to her bedroll, Rory trailing behind her with a goofy grin on his face. Caylivandra just shrugged, her elven features defaulting to their unmoving, blank expression and retired to her side of the camp. Thonan and Trinn stared each other down, unblinking for several long seconds before both breaking gaze at the same time; he stomped back to his seat by the fire while she sat down next to the man in black, looking him over.

He was tall, a little over six feet by her guess, and his clothes were cut for comfort and ease of movement. His sleeves were wide, but bound at the wrist; he didn't want them in the way, probably skilled with his hands. His skin was dark, what little of it Trinn could see; his hands and the window around his eyes were the only exposed areas, though she noticed hints of tousled, curly black hair under his hood. His shoes were a fright, the soft leather muddied and scratched from long journeys across treacherous ground; they were meant for careful movement, not extended travel. He carried only a small pack, empty save for a depleted waterskin, and a single coin purse; Trinn didn't check to see what kind of coins were inside, but it looked full enough to judge him as wealthy. His only armament was the dagger that fit the sheath in the small of his back. The dagger that had saved Trinn's life.

Several questions flitted through Trinn's mind, beyond the obvious puzzle of who he was: What was he doing out here? Why did he save her? What had worn him out so much that he had passed out after one brief fight? Trinn would have dwelt on the questions more, but she had another problem: she hadn't gotten off and her frustration was still bubbling as a result. She cast her eyes over her saviour; if he hadn't turned up, she might have been eaten at the height of her orgasm. She chuckled to herself; that would have been a hell of a way to go. Her gaze travelled down his body. It was hard to tell with his clothing, but from what Trinn could tell he was fit. She imagined the sleek, toned muscles in his arms, a perfect set of washboard abs; his calves were no doubt perfectly sculpted and his cock was probably -

Trinn shook her head. That kind of thinking wasn't helping the itch in her loins! She glanced over at Thonan; the knight had shifted his position around the campfire in order to face in her direction, and every few seconds he would look up and scrutinize her. Trinn grumbled silently. So much for any chance of release tonight.

Trinn sighed and tried not to think about too much. Once the morning came around, they would be able to figure out who this guy was, and maybe she could get some quiet time to herself. Or maybe even some time with him; she did want to thank him properly after all...

*******

Jouzen tried to move his body, but nothing responded. His arms and legs felt like lead, his shoulders and neck rigid, his chest tight and constricting. Even his eyelids felt mountainous, unable to open despite his best efforts, containing him in a darkness his eyes could not pierce. He could hear movement around him, muddied voices speaking and arguing, the clatter of metal armour and the scuff of leather boots.

Through the consuming shadows, the voice of his mistress penetrated his mind, loud and clear. <Tell me that the task is done, my servant. Tell me that you have slain the thieving halfling and are returning with my stolen treasure!>

Jouzen tried to reach for the earring to reply, but his hand may as well have been nailed to the ground.

<Speak! I know that you yet live, do not try my patience further! Tell me that you have fulfilled the task I set for you!>

He managed to part his lips, the faintest hint of a gasp escaped his lungs. His fingers began to twitch.

<You would DARE to ignore my words?! If I am not informed of your progress soon, your punishment upon your return shall be beyond imagination!>

A bolt of panic shot up Jouzen's spine and he sat up with a wordless shout, his eyes snapping open and his breath coming in heaving gulps. He raised a quivering hand to his ear; he had to respond now, he had to or...

His head swam and he collapsed to the side, only to be caught by two large but comforting hands. He felt a smaller pair of hands helping to steady him from the other side.

"Easy there, friend," came a gentle, matronly voice. "You're in no shape to be moving about like that."

Jouzen blinked, adjusting his eyes to the unexpected light of morning. Blurry shapes gradually coalesced into several figures looking down at him. Standing over him were two human men. The younger had unkempt, sandy brown hair, and was dressed in basic leathers and a chain shirt, a bow and quiver on his back and look of mild interest on his face. The older was dressed in full plate with a sword and shield, the regalia of a knight, and looked better groomed with a neatly trimmed salt-and-pepper beard that did little to hide his scowl. Next to him was a dark-haired elven lady with a bored expression, dressed in robes meant for travel while still looking sophisticated, holding a large tome under one arm and a staff in the other hand. On Jouzen's left was a dwarf dressed in chainmail, her blonde hair tied into large twin braids and her big blue eyes filled with kind concern as she held him up. And on his right, holding his arm almost tenderly was...

Jouzen tensed. The halfling! He pulled away and scrambled back on his rear, one hand raised in defence and the other reaching behind him for his dagger. His fingers met empty air; they had taken his weapon. He saw the armoured human reach for his sword, but the dwarven lady waved him back. The halfling held out her hands in a placating gesture.

"It's alright!" she said. "We're not going to hurt you!"

"Y-you..." Jouzen coughed, and his arms fell limp. He still felt so drained...

"Here," said the dwarf, pulling a waterskin from her belt. "Drink something, you need to get your strength back."

Jouzen made no move to take it, though his throat was painfully dry. "I... can't."

"Why not?" asked the halfling.

"Because then he'd have to take his mask off," said the older human. "And he doesn't want us to know who he is. Right, stranger?"

Jouzen kept silent. It was of course true, in more ways than one.

"Well, what if we all turned our heads?" said the halfling. "We'll all look away, you drink something and have a bite to eat, and then you can put your mask back on."

"Do you even hear yourself?" snarled the knight.

"That does seem rather naively trusting," said the elf.

"Alright, don't start this again!" said the dwarf. "Why don't you turn your back," she said to Jouzen, "we'll let you eat, and then we can talk once you're done. You really do need to get something into you, the grace of my goddess can't fill your stomach."

Jouzen eyed the party suspiciously. "You promise not to look?"

"Of course," the dwarf said kindly. The halfling and the younger human nodded, the elf made no motion at all, while the knight's expression just soured further.

"I want his promise," said Jouzen, shakily pointing at the armoured human. "The word of a knight. If he promises that none of you will look, I'll believe him."

The man spluttered in response. "What? Who do you think you are, to ask for -"

"Thonan!" the halfling interjected. "Just do it!"

The knight Thonan looked around at the others; they were watching him expectantly. He sighed and grumbled, placing his hand over the holy symbol on his shield, a pair of scales held by a gauntleted fist. "I swear, on my honour as a knight of the Arbiter, that none of us will attempt to see your uncovered face while you sustain yourself." His eyes narrowed. "But I will not take my eyes off of you and risk you escaping before you've answered some questions."

Jouzen expected as much. "Very well."

"Good!" said the dwarf. "Rory, get him some -"

"I'll get it!" said the halfling, springing up and running to the collected packs by the campfire. The younger human, presumably Rory, looked confused.

"Huh, she's not usually that helpful..."

"Come now," said the dwarf, holding out the waterskin again. "Drink up."

Jouzen cautiously accepted, shuffling around until his back was facing them. He pulled his mask around his chin and hastily slurped down the water, draining half the skin before he was satisfied without making himself sick. He made sure the mask was back in place before looking back to see that the halfling had returned, holding out handfuls of dried rations.

"It's not much, but it's filling," she said.

Jouzen nodded, taking the food and hungrily devoured it once his back was again turned. By the time he was done, his belly felt almost painfully full despite the meagre meal, as his body struggled to process the sudden influx of food. Securing his mask once again, he turned to face the party, who true to their word had stood well back to avoid seeing his face. "Thank you... ah..." he said.

"I'm Trinn!" said the halfling, grinning and waving. "And this is Aela, Rory, Caylivandra, and Sir Grouchy-Pants!"

Rory and Aela hid smiles behind their hands as Thonan's scowl grew more pronounced. "You are properly fed then, stranger?" he said through gritted teeth.

"Yes." Jouzen started to pull himself up.

"I did not say you could stand!" said Thonan as he stepped forward, the symbol on his shield glowing.

"Seriously? You're going to do that now?" said Trinn.

"There are questions to be asked, as I promised," said Thonan, still looking at Jouzen. "Under the watch of the Arbiter, all truths are revealed. In the face of Her holy light, your voice may betray no falsehood. You shall answer all that I ask, that you may face Her judgement through me. Do you understand?"

"Yes," said Jouzen, almost unbidden. The knight's words were not hyperbole; Jouzen realised that he could not lie while in the shield's light. His stomach felt twisted, and it was not just because of the food.

"Speak your name," commanded Thonan.

"Jouzen," came the reply.

"Jouzen..." murmured Trinn. She likely thought it was under her breath, but he caught it.

"What is your purpose for being out here?" Thonan asked.

"I am on a mission, under orders from my mistress."

"And what are those orders?"

"A secret," said Jouzen.

Thonan's expression darkened. "What were you sent to do?"

"To find something."

"What were you sent to find?"

"Something valuable."

"Valuable to whom?"

"To everyone."

"Who has the item you are seeking?"

"I don't know." Jouzen could see that Thonan was growing impatient; he could not dodge these questions forever.