Hartmar took some forms through the alleys. Making his way to the guardhouse.Knowing that all the judgment executioners were gathered in or around the town.The boy could be anywhere, or already in their rotten hands.There was only one person besides himself who would be compatible with the child. For the child’s safety.Heiron, would he stay true to his word? Everyone believes him. They were all idiots for it. Did no one notice those two creeps always walking beside him?Most of the judgment executioners were just murderers and psychos.Only two others could have been saved. Now, only one.Arriving at his destination, he looked at the guardhouse.It should be empty, since the two of them would draw all the guards’ attention.
Hartmar walked over to the building.Guards hurried past him, ignoring him as they rushed to the horses by their office and rode off.Everyone who saw them, or who was watching from their windows, ran inside or shut their shutters.Hartmar stepped onto the stairs as dust from the horses rose into the air behind him. Hartmar didn’t even need to open the door; it had already been left open, likely by a guard in haste.Inside the building, on the left, stood a long table surrounded by enough chairs for nearly half a battalion. Bowls filled with deer stew were spread across the table, filling the air with its aroma.On the right were two cells. The rest of the room was empty, except for a door at the back.It likely led deeper into the building. In one of the cells stood a figure watching him, using the darkness to conceal its body. ’Hartmar, what a surprise to see you here. How did you know? Or better yet, why aren’t you claiming the grand prize?’ Though the body was hidden, the voice was unmistakable, Kelvanya. There was more life in it now than there ever had been.
Hartmar grabbed a set of keys hanging on a hook in the back. ’’I let him go. Ranzolf and Tyrilda tried to fight me for him. I’m getting too old to do it all alone.’He hoped this would be enough to make her help him, or at least push her toward the position he needed her in. He unlocked the cell. Kelvanya stepped out. ’O One of us needs to track him down. After that, we meet at my tree.’ That was all she said as she grabbed her bow and quiver, letting them slide into position over her shoulder. She took a few knives lying nearby and slipped them into her knife holsters.
Hartmar watched for a few seconds as she stuffed things around the cabin. ’I will meet you there with the boy, then.’ He said, walking outside with his cane as if he would fall over without it. Kelvanya gave no response, knowing that what he had said was confirmation of the plan they shared.Hartmar looked around at the streets, empty in such a short amount of time.The horses were gone, doors properly locked, windows barricaded with cabinets, planks, or whatever materials they could find. It felt like a ghost town, except for the ringing sound of metal in the distance.Had the guards still not died out or run away by this time?That was surprising, but at least they were keeping the two busy. Hartmar made his way to find his horse and began searching from below, knowing that Kelvanya would take to the rooftops to look for the boy.
Grummulde watched over the village, still standing on the hill with his nose held high.What a delicious bloodbath of the skinless.Let it fill the air. Let it seep into the ground, so that the odor lingers in this place.Mark it. Mark the death of the worthless themselves.The so-called man who murdered so many, calling it justice.Now let’s see what happens if a beastkin is a judgment executioner. He looked back down after inhaling the scent of slaughter, twirling his weapon. ’It‘s time.’ he chuckled in a warlike, playful state. Taking a running stance, in the next second he was off, moving even faster than a horse toward the town. His moon axe-bo staff behind him ready for a direct slash.
Halfway to the village, he sniffed the air again. A frown appeared. Those cowards are running from their duty, are they?He started running again, noticing guards on horses riding away from the village.Grummulde ran after them. The guards looked at the beast approaching from the side. One of them yelled. ‘BEASTKIN!’ Some murmured about how a beastkin could be so deep in the northern territories, but before they could process it, the creature closed the distance far faster than anticipated.Before any of them could react, Grummulde struck from behind the first rider, thrusting to cut one of the horse’s legs.The rider flew off the horse, seemingly suspended in time, while the horse continued forward.The rider’s head hit the ground first, snapping his neck.In this way, he picked them off one by one. Some tried to turn and fight back; most tried to scatter. None could escape from grummulde.As the last one was pulled off his horse and fell to the ground, paralyzing his legs, the guard still tried to drag himself away with his arms.Grummulde turned him around. He saw a young face, seemingly trying to scream, but barely any sound came out. Only a simple plea escaped him.
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Grummulde looked down at him. ’You want to be spared while you let your entire village in the hands of those two monsters.’ After hearing those words the young man quieted down. Looking away. Still fear in his eyes took more over than the shame he began to feel. ’I… we…” There were no more words he could say as he began to sob, realizing what the beast had just said to someone like him.How could it be?Grummulde turned around, his gaze sweeping over the village.’I know how you feel.’ He turned around and raised his half-moon axe-staff into the air. ’And it will never be forgiven again.’ and decapitated the young man as he let his axe dawn on him. The young guard wanted to say something wanted to put his hand up but as it got closer gave himself to him. ‘How we can act all the same but be so different.’ Grummulde muttered as a prayer, twirling his bo-axe to fling off the blood.Taking his way back toward the village,he could only sigh, thinking of the guards fleeing. There was no time to dwell on anything else, only to focus on the fight to come.
Rederick kept the Red Smile busy, or perhaps it was the other way around. As he tried to kill the thing, which did nothing except parry his sword with a kitchen knife.Albaras, luckily, had more success, finally catching up to Ranzolf and kicking him through a wall into a building.Albaras’ cloth was mostly burned away and his armor was rusted, enough to make him immobile. Yet he still walked as if nothing was wrong.Ranzolf got up, panting, but nonetheless had a smile on his face.
The red smile looked over as Ranzolf crashed into the building as a sword went through his face. ’ Look at the time, I need to go.’ the Red Smile said, slipping partially into the shadows and somehow climbing up the building until he reached the edge where the shadows ended.Rederick looked at him, panting. ’Albaras, you done?’
’Almost. I would recommend that you go scout further while I hold this position.’ Albaras said, still trying to sound polite, but there was no laughter, no interruption of his unusual manner.Rederick took a few more breaths before moving on, mounted his horse, and rode off.Albaras watched as Ranzolf stumbled around inside the building, pointing his short sword at him. ‘How wonderful you are.’ he said, sheathing his weapon, panting as he opened his arms. Being stronger than your rusted armor, wielding a now-dull blade as if it could still cut through steel, what power! A death most worthy.’ He wanted to leave the building, but then he heard something.The creature has arrived, the Whisperer of the Lord had arrived.It would be better if he sensed it with his smell rather than seeing him amid this slaughter.What kind of whispers could he leak to the Lord?It would be claustrophobic.
Albaras turned away from Ranzolf to see what was blitzing around, hearing heavy footsteps. Ranzolf took this chance to slither away, using the back door of the building to leave the fight for now. For today, it is enough.
Now Albaras stood, watching as a blast of dirt hit his helmet, blinding him for a split second. He still stood as if nothing had happened, but in that split second, a figure remained before him: a beastkin.Albaras changed his stance, making it more open to start a conversation. The beastkin growled slightly with a smirk as he noticed the change in stance, and, like the man before him, he also put his weapon to his side ’I see that you have fought Ranzolf. Where is that little pest?’ Grummulde started.
’Is that how you call that little weasel? He just walked away.’ Albaras answered. Grummulde gave the slightest smile at that. ’It is always hilarious to me that a man calls me a thing while someone like him walks under you. Good to hear that you can see it. Is it because you survived him?’
Albaras moved his sword over the ground. ’Did you know that these people also look down on mine just like yours? But isn’t peace more important than spreading hate across different kins?’ Grummulde wanted to say something, but he couldn’t find the right words. ’Not what I was asking.’ If he still had a small smile, then it was now gone. ’I do know that hatred cannot be stopped until one side entirely annihilates the other one.’
Albaras had carved a symbol in the mud. One that was unknown to the beastkin. It looked like a circle with two triangles inside it and two rectangles on its sides, each slightly angled.Grummulde looked at it. ‘I do not know what that represents.’ He said this as he prepared his weapon for battle. Albaras pointed his sword upward at him. ‘It was my family sigil.’
Grummulde gave a respectful nod. They looked at each other for a few more seconds, enjoying the silence the moment provided. Grummulde was the first to move in. He had already noticed that Albaras had no gaps in his armor except for his helmet slits, which were too narrow for his blade to penetrate.Instead, he aimed for the rusted spots, hoping that one of them would give way.Albaras tried to react, at least during the first few seconds of Grummulde’s barrage. Soon, he realized he would not be fast enough to keep up with Grummulde. Instead of trying to parry every strike, Albaras began trading one blow for every two hits from Grummulde.Now it was a fight to see who would falter first: Albaras’ armor or Grummulde’s vitality.
