“Wow! That must have worked like a charm!” Happy complimented, her sarcasm cutting through the tense atmosphere like a knife. While Sevastian could hardly suppress a laugh, Robin glared at her.
He ignored his constant headache and turned to the figure on the ground.
“TechnoBlood?” He asked, “You were hunting the Cetro? Why?”
When he didn’t get an answer, he continued.
“Did anyone survive? Head Priest Spaden?”
Still silence.
“Who are you?” Robin asked one last time and when the figure didn’t answer, he sent a command to ROMAS.
Slowly, the BTW drone flew forward and extended its mechanical arm with the grappler. When it reached for the hood, the figure tensed and struggled to avoid it but was too wounded to move. Just before the hood was pulled back, Landom spoke up.
“Leave it be.” He said and lowered his gun.
“What?” Robin, Alena and a few others asked simultaneously.
“Don’t do that, let’s move on and look for the Cetro.”
“Landom…”
“Believe me, some truths better remain hidden. Sometimes knowing a secret is much more dangerous than being oblivious.”
“You can’t be serious!” Robin gasped, feeling conflicted. He never doubted Landom’s judgement before but this time he really struggled to follow his advice. The curiosity burned hotter the more he heard.
“Huh…” The figure scoffed when Robin hesitated, “Weak!”
“You aren’t exactly helping the case here.” Landom sighed.
“What an odd group you are.” The figure said, its voice deep and hard to understand. It was like the growl of an animal mixed with the sounds of someone choking on his own blood.
“Eight humans, mostly untrained, stomping through the forest without any idea what they are stumbling into.” They sniffed the air and Robin heard a surprised “Oh?” followed by violent coughing.
“So it’s seven humans and one of the old ones. Well, you are an even rarer sight than us.”
“Good nose, maybe the rumors are true after all and your ancestors really were just dogs!” Ang’Tue scoffed and appeared from a shadow next to Robin. The old man fixated his three eyes on the wounded being while he stroked his beard in contemplation.
“I always thought the Cetro were one of the few allies of the Zulbano. How come you chose one of them as your prey to hunt?”
“Allies? Pah!” The figure spat a blob of blood to the side and, with pain and great effort, it began to pull back its hood.
“They are abominations of flesh and metal. They aren’t allies, just so twisted that they aren’t even worthy, honorable prey.” It said and after considering its condition it grumbly added, “Most of the time that is.”
Robin, Patience and the others all gasped when they saw the head of a wolf being revealed. Brown fur, a long snout, pointy ears and bright yellow eyes. Other than the Ommih or even the Mohait, human features weren’t the majority, on the contrary, aside from the general humanoid build - two legs, two arms and a head atop - there weren’t any human features at all. Its eyes shone with wild, unfocused anger and blood had painted its huge fangs red.
The wolf had no visible weapons left and didn’t look like he would be able to get up anytime soon. Ang’Tue stepped closer and inspected the wounds he could see.
After a moment he shook his head.
“Will he survive?” Robin asked while he heard the others whispering about what little they had heard about the elusive Zulbano. The Eltaran had managed to hide their presence for so long that not many remembered them and those who did, assumed they were extinct. The Zulbano however were more like a myth. While even children heard of them, bedtime stories to scare the little ones with monsters that are stalking through the night, not many believed they really exist. Those in charge of course knew better, however information was scarce and most of what they knew came from hearsay and urban legends. One thing however everyone had agreed upon: the Zulbano don’t know mercy, they don’t know friends - they only live for the next fight.
“He’ll probably make it.” Landom said after he stepped next to the Eltaran. He reached for the strap on his leg and took one of the recovery stims. Carefully, without stepping too close, he threw it next to the Zulbano.
“Take this as a sign of goodwill. As I said before, we don’t have any hostile intentions.”
The Zulbano just looked at him, not reaching for the stim and not responding to his words.
“He doesn’t need it. He could survive without it.” Ang’Tue said and turned to leave.
“Could?” Robin asked and threw the figure another look, “You think he’s about to die?”
“He lost to his prey, the hunt has failed.” The Elataran said as if that would explain anything.
“I don’t want to be the one who left without providing the bare minimum of aid to a wounded… person. Enemy or not.” Landom said and when he saw the confused faces all around him he shook his head and motioned at Ang’Tue to give an explanation.
“Zulbano hunt for glory and honor, for the thrill of the fight, for the strong to rise and the weak to die. If they lose, they don’t survive - they make sure of that one way or another.”
“What? It was only one dude against a whole community of Cetro. It wasn’t a fair fight from the beginning.” Patience gasped, “Why would someone go to such length anyway?”
“You are right, it wasn’t a fair fight…” Ang’Tue pondered and tilted his head, “And yet, the Cetro managed to edge out a win. How peculiar!”
“What?”
He turned back to the wolf, ignoring the incredulous gazes from the others.
“Do tell, dogo, how come you failed your hunt?”
“Just leave already!” The Zulbano scowled, “Our traditions are not yours to judge.”
“No, they are not. Still, color me curious. A mighty warrior of the Zulbano failing his hunt and even survives to live in shame? That doesn’t sound like…” His voice trailed off. He took another good look at the feral face, the color of the fur and the rebellious spark in the eyes.
“You are young. Too young.” He realized, “Was this your initiation rite? No… that would be too much of a challenge…” Suddenly he took a sharp breath when realization hit him.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
As Eltaran he knew more about these wild hunters than most others and even had a little idea of how their society worked. Enough to puzzle some of the pieces together.
This young wolf was a fallen member of the pack.
An outcast with little chance to ever be accepted by its clan.
Ang’Tue kept his thoughts to himself. Instead, he let out a long, sad sigh, “I’m sorry, young one. I wish you more strength in your next life.”
The Zulbano just grunted.
“What is it?” Happy asked.
“That is not my secret to share. I already revealed too much. Leave him be. Death will be a salvation to him and it is not our place to change his fate.”
The wolf nodded and Ang’Tue turned to guide the group away.
Alena was last in the line and when she passed by the wounded wolf, she halted her steps for a moment. She heard what the old man had said and while she couldn’t understand all of the nebulous explanations, she knew he spoke the truth when she looked into the yellow eyes. This warrior had no future left, his will was broken and even if he still clung to life right now, it probably was only a last act of defiance. The outcome however was clear for her to see.
She hesitated a moment before she stepped closer and drew a knife. The long, thin blade glinted under the sun. Alena flipped the weapon around and offered it, pommel first, to the Zulbano.
The wolf looked up and took the weapon with a furry claw.
“Thanks…” He growled and inclined his head with much effort.
“I wish you a good hunt after reaching the other side.” She said and hurried on to close up to the rest of the group.
***
Krezolgok, the Bultaz who had lost his second fight, his second chance to become an honored member of the pack, followed the strange group with his eyes as they left.
‘Succeed and gain a name or fail and die like a warrior - your family will follow your death to free the clan of any shame.’ He remembered the words of the Pack Leader.
He failed again. Again his prey survived and so did he. There wasn’t a place for him any longer. He had missed his chance to gain a name twice and now it was time to live up to the only expectations his people had left for someone like him: dying.
His mind flashed back to his family. The pack was the family and yet, Krezolgok always felt a deeper connection to his parents and especially to his little brother.
“They won’t kill them, right?” He mused. His brother was just a whelp but already on his way to become a great warrior. The pack would never remove someone who showed so much potential just because he was such a failure. His parents were both respected warriors with strong names. Fast Claw and Sharp Ear, they had helped the clan through many dire situations and have won much glory for the pack. They won’t kill them, will they?
“They will…” Krezolgok sighed. He knew the rules and he knew that there was no tolerance to weakness. They will pay the price for his failure.
“And I’m sitting here, still afraid to finally do what must be done!” He growled and looked at the knife the human had given him.
“It only takes a short moment of determination…”
The claw rose, positioning the dagger directly above his heart. Then, it began to shake and after a moment it dropped back to the ground.
“Just why am I so weak?” The Bultaz spat in anger and let go of his frustration in a long, suffering howl that shook the forest.
***
The adventurers stopped dead in their tracks when they heard the loud howl of a wolf rolling through the trees like rumbling thunder.
“Poor soul…” Ang’Tue said with a sigh.
“Can’t say I’m a fan of the Zulbano after all I‘ve heard, but still… that isn’t a fate I’d wish for my enemy.” Landom nodded.
Robin kept quiet. Too many questions raced through his mind, only increasing the pounding behind his temples. He had so many things he wanted to ask, but right now was not the time. ROMAS just confirmed that he found a hidden settlement 60 meters ahead. He informed the others and they quickly fell into a wide formation.
“We just want to have a talk with them. We aren’t on bad terms, no reason for violence!” He reminded his friends. Then, after he had steeled his nerves and suppressed his persistent headache, he signaled to advance.
They had decided to approach the Cetro carefully and with weapons prepared but without being forceful and putting them at gunpoint.
As such, there was an odd stillness the moment they entered the provisional settlement when everyone stopped moving - adventures and Cetro alike.
Robin quickly took in the sight in front of him.
The hiding place of TechnoBlood was in a bad state, even for a quickly raised camp. Small and medium-sized ships, about seven or eight, were used as homes for the community. They were connected by long, winding pathways and surrounded with trees. Small tents and various crates and barrels stood in between. It would have been a beautiful sight, if not for the many dead bodies on the ground, the blood that formed puddles everywhere or the fact that many trees and even some ships were still smoldering from recent fire.
All over the place people had been shuffling about, cleaning the camp and collecting the dead. Now, the whole scene was frozen like an image. With a quick count, Robin came up with about twenty or so survivors and more than twice as many corpses.
Just how could one person, one Zulbano, create such devastation?
- These people are under extreme stress
- Be cautious when approaching
“Hey, I’m-” Robin wanted to introduce himself, but suddenly the brief moment of shock was over and everyone in the settlement began to run around, shouting and screaming.
He noticed Landom, Alena and Happy tightening their grip on the weapons but he called them to a stop.
“Don’t make any threatening movements. They are already scared enough as they are.”
There actually came some kind of order into the chaos as the Cetro took position behind cover.
Robin got even more nervous when he noticed the weapons they held in their hands, but luckily before the situation escalated any further, he spotted a familiar face on top of one of the bigger ships.
“Hash!” Robin shouted, “Head Priest Spaden!”
A murmur went through the remaining Cetro and many turned to their leader, waiting for orders.
“This is the wrong time for a visit.” The Head Priest shouted, “And definitely the wrong place… Who are you that you know my-... Mr. Tulward? Robin Tulward?”
“Yep, good to see you again. Sorry for what happened to your people.” Robin said his condolences. He was too happy to have found who he was looking for and didn’t notice the rather strong reactions of the Cetro when they heard his name.
“Can we talk?”
Too late did ROMAS try to stop him from doing something stupid.
- WARNING!
- Detecting strong reactions to your name.
- Considering your earlier dealings, this is not the right approach.
- There is a high chance that these people see you as the cause of their momentary situation.
- It seems like the mission you gave them put them at odds with the Zulbano
- Ultimately resulting in the exile of their community and death of their friends
“Rob!” Happy also hissed from his side, “Something isn’t right…”
“Robin Tulward!” Hash yelled his name again, anger and sadness echoing in his voice, “You… You did this to us! It is all your fault. You dragged us into this, now look what you’ve done! My people are dead, slaughtered by the creature that you put on our trail.”
“I… What?” Robin stammered, not understanding what the heck this man was talking about. It was his fault? How? Why?
“My friends, my family, my sheep!” The Head Priest shouted, now in a more ceremonial tone, “This man has gotten a special gift from the Great One, a mutation that allows him to be closer to the deity as anyone else. But look how he squanders this gift! Wandering around and defying his own nature instead of becoming one with the Great One’s grace.”
“Uhm, I’m not really-” Robin tried to interject but was ignored.
“Look what his defiance has brought upon us! Our brothers and sisters have died when divine punishment struck us for our failings - it was on us to guide him on the right path. We have paid the price, now let us rectify our mistakes and end this sinner once and for all!”
“Damn, I hate fanatics!” Robin cursed.
“Oh fuck!”
Patience’s yell was the last thing Robin heard before absolute mayhem broke loose.
The group slowly retreated towards the forest as the Cetro began to attack with everything they got.