The Fae Hunter Ch. 01

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A hunter in high fantasy world on a journey of discovery.
5.3k words
4.28
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Part 1 of the 2 part series

Updated 06/16/2023
Created 05/09/2023
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Wistong
Wistong
53 Followers

This is a story that I started back in late 2019 and early 2020. Covid-19 took my attention away from my extracurricular writings. During the intervening years, I also lost all my background notes on this story. I have been slowly rewriting all the background. I am at a point that I think I can continue the story now. So, I am resubmitting the old chapters as I begin writing new ones. This is a world of high fantasy with both good and evil and a lot of in-between.

Chapter One

I found Niles' victim slumped against the wall in the back of an alley. I had followed his stench into the Boar's Head, a rather unsavory bar and restaurant. Though, restaurant was a very kind term for the food they served. From what I could see, as I walked through the dining and drinking area, they were serving a watery soup and thick chunks of bread. I followed Nile's trail to a table towards the back of the room. Next to the table was a doorway leading to, according to the sounds coming from it, the kitchen area. The table was occupied, but not by him. No, Niles had left already. Two men looked at me warily as I approached. The one on the right placed his right hand under the table. No doubt grabbing a dagger. He looked dirty and sweaty, his beard scraggy and uneven. Both men wore clothes that hadn't been washed in many days. Many, many days. The man on the left had both hands out, but his left hand was gripping his ale tankard harder than necessary - preparing to use it as a makeshift weapon.

"I don't want you," I said, scanning the area. Niles had been here less than an hour ago. I was close. As close as I had ever been.

"Then get lost," the man with the death grip on his tankard growled. Though he was as dirty and unkempt as his companion, there was a glimmer of intelligence that was absent in his compatriot. That made him the more dangerous of the two.

"How long have you been at this table?" I reached slowly into my pouch and pulled out three coppers, placing them on the table. The man on my right grinned when he saw the money. I saw him calculate the size of the pouch, the cleanliness, and cut of my clothing, and my size. I was not a small man, but neither was I large. More importantly, I didn't wear armor and had no visible weapons. I shook my head at him. "Don't," I said. "Just answer my questions," I looked back to the marginally more intelligent man. "And you can have as many ales as these will buy you." I tapped the coppers.

"Don't know," the man said, releasing the tension on the tankard. His companion kept eyeing me.

"Guess."

"Maybe fifteen minutes. Maybe more."

"Good." I smiled in his general direction. The odor of both men offended my sense of smell. It was hard not to step back from them. I knew they would take it as a sign of fear or intimidation, not one of disgust. "That wasn't so hard. Don't," I snapped at the man with the dagger. He was edging away from the table slowly - getting ready to spring at me. I sensed his ill-conceived plan. In the commotion of the ensuing bar fight he would stab me in the heart, cut the strings of my pouch and be gone before anyone realized what had happened. What an idiot. He just grinned at me, gearing himself to pounce. I stepped forward faster than he could react, grabbed the back of his head and smashed his head forward and down into the table. As I was leaning down, I grabbed his dagger with my right hand, twirling the blade around, so it was pointed into his groin. "I said, don't." He groaned and slid to the floor. I let him fall, bringing the dagger back, so it wouldn't cut him. I placed it on the table, hilt towards me, the point towards tankard man.

"Now," I told the one still sitting there, mouth agape and stunned from the quick violence. "Where was I?" I paused, not so he would answer, but for effect. "Right. Did you see anyone leave this table?" He shook his head no. "Alright then." I thought for a second. The stupid one, still laying on the ground, groaned but didn't try to get up. "Who's the wench that served you?"

"Over there," tankard man said, pointing a nervous hand towards an older, matronly woman. He glanced down at the coppers briefly. "Normally, it's Eilen, but Kathy," here he jutted his chin towards the woman he had pointed out. "She was cursing about Eilen just up and walking out the back with some foreigner." I leaned over the table and got into his face.

"And where is the back?" I asked.

I found Eilen slumped against the wall, not five feet from the back door. She had a glazed expression on her face. Her eyes were wide and dazed. She was trying to clean what looked and smelled like cum from her face and hair, but her motions were so confused that she was mostly just spreading it around. I stood there watching her for a minute. Watched her pull a small clump from her cheek and look at it. The white, gooey mess on her fingers. Eilen stared at her fingers playing with the cum, as if it were someone else's hands. And then stuck her fingers in her mouth, sucking them clean. Her faced grimaced as she swallowed. She pulled her fingers out of her mouth and looked at them again. Her breasts, pert and young, were open to the cool, night air. Her nipples were taut and hard. On closer inspection, I noticed that her breasts were red and scratched from aggressive mauling. Her shirt was in tatters - as if they had been cut and torn in the haste to get to her breasts.

"Hey there," I said in a much softer tone than I had used with the two hooligans in the bar. "Are you Eilen?" She turned confused eyes in my direction. The fingers of one hand still almost randomly traced and gathered the streaks of cum from her face.

"What is going on?" she asked.

"Did he say anything to you?" The smell of her arousal was distracting. I was having a hard time finding his trail. I looked carefully in all directions, searching. "Which direction did he go?"

"Who are you?" she mumbled, putting her fingers back into her mouth. The girl suckled and licked at her fingers. It was so mesmerizing that I almost missed the motion of her other hand. I jumped back, the blade she thrust at me barely nicking me. The wound burned, hot and white. I kicked the thin, silver blade out of her hand with more force than I meant to use. The adrenaline spike from the cut making my actions faster and harder. She cried out as the bones in her hand broke. She fell to her knees, screaming in pain. Son of a bitch. If anyone saw me towering over an abused, young woman, they wouldn't stop to ask questions. And her cries would quickly bring others to her. I wanted to howl in rage. I briefly thought of hiding in the shadows and waiting. To see if she would tell others what had happened. But I knew that I wouldn't gain any actionable information. Just knowing that Niles' knew I was following him was something. Did he really think that Eilen would kill me? No. He was just playing with me. I stared for a moment longer at the crying girl who was frantically searching the ground. Looking for the dagger. I sighed, turned, and ran away.

I reacquired Niles' trail outside of town two days later. Crouching down on my haunches, I examined the trail he had left. He wasn't trying to hide where he was going. The tracks showed one large horse that he was riding and two other people walking alongside the horse. The two walkers had slight, small feet...so probably women. They were carrying heavy packs. The horse was a trained war horse with expensive and deadly steel shoes. However, it was moving at the sedate pace of the women. I would catch up with them before the end of the day.

Gregory Hastenbond had approached me nearly a month before. Hastenbond was ostensibly the head constable of Rhineville. He also ran the general store and had, until a few years prior, been the local bounty hunter. I traveled into town from my secluded cottage as needed and took odd jobs when finances got low. Two years back, when he was still doing bounty hunting, he had hired me to help rout out some bandits. Things had turned ugly, but we had survived. Hastenbond ended up minus a hand, but still had his head. It was a trade he was grateful for. It had cemented a grudging acceptance into fast friendship.

"Mikal," he boomed as he approached the cottage. "Mikal, are you home?" He stopped at the edge of the small herbal garden that I had planted this year...without much success. It was a patch of dirt with little growing in it, not even weeds. I stepped out my front door, striding toward him. Catching sight of me, he broke into a giant grin. "My friend," he said, giving me a hug as soon as I got near enough to him. He was a big man, both in height and girth. He enveloped my more average size. "It's good to see you."

"And you. What brings you out here?"

"A job." He stepped back, grinning at me. He itched his full beard with the spike that was at the end of his left arm. "A good one, too."

"Come in," I said. "Have a pint with me. My last batch came out excellent." I was experimenting with brewing. My attempts were less than satisfactory.

"Um," he said, gulping. "I think not." He shuddered. I knew he was thinking of the batch I had made a few months before. It had been...bitter. Even too bitter for me. And my poor herb garden, where I had poured out most of the beer, had liked it even less. It was now a dried out, brown plot of land.

"Your loss," I shrugged as I waved him into my home. It wasn't much. One large room that was kitchen, dining, and sleeping area all in one. But it was mine. A small back door led outside where a small vegetable garden was whimpering, and an out house stood far enough away to keep the smell from invading the cottage. We each sat in a chair and I grabbed my beer, raising it as yet another offer to Hastenbond. He shook his head with another shudder. He grinned at my obvious irritation. "So, what's this job that sent you scurrying all the way to my home?" I asked. I took a large sip of my beer and hid my grimace as best I could. It was almost good enough to be called awful.

"Hunt and retrieve," Hastenbond said. "Right up your alley." He grinned at me. "The bounty is five hundred gold. Dead or alive."

"Five hundred?" That would be enough to buy a small house in town. It would be enough to... "That's too good to be true. What's the catch?"

"No one can find the man," Hastenbond laughed. "The bond is coming from the capital. Here," he leaned over and handed me a pamphlet. It was a standard bounty. Hand drawn picture of a man with a goatee and short cropped hair. Hard eyes and a cruel smile gave life to the drawing. He didn't look pleasant. Traveling north. Probably on a horse. Dead or alive. He was a thief and the bounty was contingent on the glass orb he had stolen returned unharmed. He was known as Niles of the Blue.

"Hmmm." I leaned back away from the pamphlet. "A mage. What is the realm of Blue again? I don't know if I've heard of them."

"Mind control," Hastenbond sheepishly admitted. "It won't be easy. But five hundred gold!"

"Mm. Hmm." I hummed to myself as I thought about it. "Do the Blue have a keep anywhere?"

"So, you're going to do it?" Hastenbond asked eagerly. He was not the type of man to be so pushy. Or so ham fisted in his approach. I eyed him curiously. He was oblivious to my perplexity.

"Yeah," I said, finally. "Probably. Why so interested?"

"No reason," He shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. Something didn't feel right. "The Blues have a keep about a hundred miles north of here." He handed me a map. "If he hasn't already been here, he will be soon." He paused and looked uncertain. "Assuming he is going home." I looked down at the map that showed the roads going from the capital to the Blues' Keep. Rhineville was smack down in the middle between the two. On the largest, most used road. I looked back up from the map and raised an eyebrow. It was unusual that a bounty would come with a map. Especially one as good as this one. From what I could tell, it even seemed moderately accurate. "The map came with the bounty pamphlet." Hastenbond answered my unspoken question.

"Thanks for giving me the heads-up."

"Of course," Hastenbond said. "You saved my life. I know you are looking to settle down. This is what you need to make that happen. I had to get this to you." He stood up. "I better go back. Who knows what will happen in Rhineville without me." He laughed. I walked with him to the edge of my failed herb garden and waved goodbye as he briskly started back to town. I gazed after him. It was only a five-mile trek, but normally, he would stay for a bite of food. Or a drink that I hadn't made myself. Something niggled at the back of my mind. But then I started thinking about the five hundred gold. And all it would buy. I closed up my little cottage and packed for my hunt.

An hour later, I was following Hastenbond's trail back to town. His path continued onto the Haste's General Store. I diverged toward Aidel's Threads. I entered the clothing shop just as the sun was setting. Fabrics were piled up at one end of the store. There was another section for threads, buttons, needles, and other sewing implements. The largest part of the shop was the work area. Large enough for two or three people to be creating garments next to each other. This evening it was only Cynthia. When I had entered the shop, the door had hit a small bell that rang shrilly. Cynthia looked up at the sound and her face lit up when she saw me.

"Mikal," she squealed happily, leaping up and running into my arms. I am not a big man, but Cynthia was quite a bit smaller. She was just over five feet tall with a petite, slim build. I easily picked her up and held her so that our lips could connect. She wrapped her legs around my waist, grinding our pelvis's together. As we kissed, her tongue sneaked out and fed itself into my mouth while she rubbed herself against my quickly hardening cock. I put her down. She reached around me, grabbing my ass and pulling me into her so that she was pressed fully and firmly against me. "I didn't expect you tonight," she said, moving side to side to keep me hard. She looked up at me with her mischievous green eyes. Her dark brown hair flowed back, reaching just past her shoulders. To me, she had always seemed beautiful and bewitching. From the moment I met her, I had wanted her. I had... I didn't let myself finish that thought. Pushed it away from me.

"I have good news," I said. I grabbed her hair with my left hand, holding it tight and pulling it back. Her face arched back, her neck open to me. She started breathing heavily with excitement. I grabbed her throat with my right hand, completely encircling her neck, and leaned down to kiss her with bruising strength. She whimpered against my mouth.

"I need to finish up here," she said breathlessly. "Give me five minutes."

"I'll give you ten. But I expect you naked and in your room immediately after." I released her and walked over to the doorway that led upstairs to her room. I looked over my shoulder to find her staring after me. "Get to work," I growled. "I want you." We grinned at each other.

While I waited, I was amazed yet again that she was not only willing to play my game of domination and submission but seemed to enjoy it nearly as much as I did. She was the first lover I had shared these fantasies with. And she was happy to play. I was always careful not go too far. I got undressed and sat in the chair by the bed. Less than ten minutes later, she was outside the bedroom door. I heard her strip off her clothes so that she would enter the room completely nude. I grinned. She was following my orders - like a good girl. Cynthia opened the door and slipped in. Her small breasts tight to her body. Her pussy, I could already smell. She was excited and heated. Wanting me as much as I wanted her. She dropped her clothes next to the door and fell to her hands and knees. She crawled to me, waving her beautiful ass from side to side. I growled my excitement as I opened my legs wide so that she could crawl in between them.

"May I suck on you," she asked, looking up at me. My cock hung above her face, starting to push up in hardness, but not completely there yet. It was exhilarating and stimulating beyond any other sexual experience I had ever had. To have this woman be so submissive.

"Lick my balls," I demanded. She moaned as her tongue lapped at me. Already half hard, I quickly became rock hard. I grabbed her hair forcefully with one hand and reached for her face with my other. I forced her mouth open with my hand and fed her my cock. She was unable to take me fully into mouth and throat, but I wasn't going to complain. Having any part of my cock in her was good enough for me. Switching my grip so that I had a hand on either side of her head, I pushed her up and down on me, completely controlling the pace. I got about half of my cock into her mouth before she started gagging and coughing. I pulled her head back enough so that she could breathe and then started fucking her mouth. Pushing about a third of my cock into her. I found a rhythm that I knew would bring me to orgasm. "Play with yourself," I commanded. Cynthia immediately and obediently brought her hand down to her pussy. She moaned around my cock as she pleasured herself. I stood up and pulled out of her mouth.

"Yes," she cried. She had both hands on her pussy now. The fingers of one hand pushed deep inside of her, and the other rapidly flicked against her clit. I rubbed the full length of my cock as I watched her. And then without giving her any warning, I came on her. My first pulse hit her forehead, dripping down into her left eye. My next shot caught her nose. I moved the head of my cock so that I could feed her my cum - pulsing the rest of my load into her hungry mouth. She grabbed my shaft with both hands as she suckled on the head. I sat back down.

"Amazing," I said, looking down at her. She rested her head against my upper thigh and grinned at me as best she could with my cock still in her mouth, her face coated with my cum. I disengaged from her mouth. "I have a job," I said. She grabbed a cloth that was laying nearby and cleaned herself up.

"Another one," she frowned. "How long will you be gone this time?"

"I don't know," I admitted. "But this one is big baby. After this, we can settle down." The words came out, but inwardly I cringed. Did I really want to settle down?

"How big?" she didn't sound convinced. Was it my tone? Did I give myself away?

"Five hundred gold."

She looked up at me in astonishment. "Five hundred?" she whispered. I nodded. "Really?" I nodded again. "When do you leave?" She asked. I laughed.

"In the morning." I picked her up and threw her on the bed. "We have some fucking to do first."

After a month of following Niles, I was hours from apprehending him. A month of trails that led no where and dead ends. And now he had just laid his path bare to me. I didn't like it. I could feel him up ahead. Waiting for me. I went to meet him. Finally. A month was a long time to track someone. I was ready for it to end. For someone else, maybe the trail wouldn't have been so clear. But for me, there were signposts everywhere. They were moving slowly, the women really slowing the war horse down. I came to a halt when I knew that I was close to their camp. The pace of the women was getting slower and slower. It didn't look like Niles was going to leave the women, and they couldn't have walked much further. I left the road and crept through the woods, keeping the road to my left. A mile later, I heard the whinny of a horse. The clomping of steel boots as the horse moved from one spot to another. Grazing.

Gotcha. I carefully took off my pack. I wanted to avoid being hampered when it came to a fight. He wasn't going to come willingly. And I didn't fancy keeping watch over a mage all the way back to Rhineville. Or worse yet, all the way to Trepple, the capital. This bounty would be coming back dead, not alive. I brought out my crossbow and loaded a bolt. Keeping it at the ready, I crept forward through the woods, getting closer and closer to my quarry. I heard them clearer. The crackle of a fire. The horse moving around. And Niles' voice. The first time I had ever heard it. The edge to his tone was a clear match to his picture. Hard and uncompromising.

Wistong
Wistong
53 Followers
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