Unfettered - Part 5 - A Hunter and their prey

It took three days before Bryne found a nearby settlement. His groin was exceptionally sore. On the first day, his noble steed began to wheeze. His mare veered from where he wished, shook her head, and in one instance, nearly bucked him off. He could only empathize with her unhappiness of having an inexperienced rider, that mounted an ox to practice. That experience wasn't so pleasant either. The next day was worse. On the third morning, he'd discovered insects in his pockets, devouring his carefully packaged food with their large mandibles. His mare had broken free from where he tied her up. He spent several hours attempting to track her, only to find pieces of her tack on the ground, and a trail of blood. By nightfall on chance, he spotted smoke on the horizon and followed it.

On the fourth morning, hungry and cold, Bryne stumbled into the orcish settlement of Umnark.

A small town, Umnark only prospered due to its proximity to a somewhat large array of hills and the resulting runoff that fed their crops. Not quite close enough to the Western Mountains, where they might mine ores or enslave a dwindling population of goblins, nor far enough inland to be completely safe from human attacks, Umnark was a small town with only two exports: warriors and meat. Enclosed by a palisade and protruding spikes, Bryne approached its open and seemingly unguarded gate. He was met with the strike a flail, straight into his chest, knocking him to the ground and winding him. From behind the wall emerged an orcish warrior.

"Who goes there?!" the warrior barked. Bryne briefly checks his chest, making sure his chainmail was largely undamaged (and his sternum still intact), and got back up. Not just anybody could knock over a sure-footed dwarf. "I am Bryne Slagheart, a wanderer-" Bryne barely began, before the orc interrupted.  "Show your mark!" This time, the warrior pointed a sturdy looking composite bow at Bryne. From a human, that arrow would be another bruise. From an orc, it would impale his armor, both front and back. Begrudgingly, Bryne turned around, lifted his hair, and showed the back of his neck. It was enough to pass.

The warrior he met, as he quickly learned, was named Hunter. He wasn't just an ordinary soldier either; the emblem of the orcist faith marked on his chest meant he was a true Inquisitor, a lesser paladin of the orcish military. Bryne wondered why an orc would be so talkative with an utter stranger, let alone a dwarf. With a gesture, Bryne pointed to the rest of the town. It was only then Bryne noticed and understood:

Umnark was empty.

Bryne questioned where the smoke had come from. Hunter pointed to the smoldering remains of the largest home in the town. Bryne noticed a foul stench in the air. Hunter only responded "You'd best not go near there" and left it at that with a grunt, before walking off towards another nearby home. Bryne noticed something strange about the hue of Hunter's skin, seeing a patch of strangely beige colored flesh amid the true green. As Bryne attempted to catch up to the inquisitor, he was quickly met with more unseen company. Two projectiles, he could only assume were arrows, whizzed directly in front of Bryne's face. In panic, Bryne summoned up his elemental forces; Droplets of moisture rocks, small unattended items, all began to rise from the earth as the temperature plummeted, creating an accompanying wind. When Hunter paused in his tracks, Bryne realized he'd made a terrible mistake.

Two more figures emerged from nearby houses. One was most definitely a human male, dressed all too similarly to Bryne; He too showed tattoos running up and down his flesh. The other was a female, neither orc nor human, but instead boasting solid white eyes and pale blue skin. in the heat of the moment, Bryne couldn't recall at all what she might be, or her abilities. The male pointed a small hand crossbow at Bryne's head, while the female boasted a similar bow to Hunter's. Bryne broke his concentration immediately, and raised his empty hands in surrender.

"You boast magic?" Hunter spoke. Bryne simply nodded, his eyes attempting to read each of them. Bryne nods to both his apparent associates. Both muttered some occult words, while Bryne braced for the worst.

In a matter of seconds, both associates began to rattle off information for their orcish leader; Their knowledge would utterly boggle Bryne. The human listed Bryne's likely recent history, everything about dwarf culture that would have been remotely relevant, and even the exact caravan (belonging to the Honeyfin family) that brought him here. It was surprising, of course, but far less interesting to Bryne in comparison to what his partner relayed.

The female samsaran (He'd had the time to recall, at this point; A strange race of reincarnating humanoids.) began to rattle off everything with regards to Bryne's abilities. "A kineticist," she began, "can channel directly from planes of the inner sphere for spell-like effects and offensive techniques." She listed, in accurate words, exactly what Bryne felt; She spoke of how he gathered powers associated with his element from around him, how he'd also weave strands of aether to perform telekinesis. She narrowed down his likely abilities to a tee. Then she began to list his every vulnerability, even things he hadn't known. Effective ways to break his concentration. What to do to subdue his power, and tells that he was about to use them. At this, Bryne fell to his knees, and grinned. He'd found a mentor. She was pointing an arrow at his face.

Satisfied with her explanation, Hunter gestured for Bryne to stand. He announced simple, "you did not do this," and turned his back. Confused, Bryne began to question the lot of them exactly what had happened in this small town. They were all surprisingly liberal with their knowledge. Bryne pondered for a moment if it had to do with an orcish belief he'd missed.

Hunter was hunting a monster- At least, he called it a monster- that had been slaughtering nearby villages wholesale in various ways. The creature(or creatures) left no tracks, nor was it ever spotted by nearby hunters or warriors, but it was most definitely intelligent. Hunter himself suspected it was some kind of demon based on its 'tastes'. One village was found with each orc beheaded, as if a creature actively yanked the skull right off with its teeth, but it left the heads upright beside each corpse.  Even outside the village walls, orc upon orc was followed, beheaded, and arranged. In another, every orc in the camp was found face down, with their face caved and bones shattered as if they'd fallen from a great height. In another, every victim was found with a horrified expression, reeking of necromantic energies, and arranged in a circle. In yet another, and the village that assured Hunter that Bryne was indeed not the culprit, every victim was found dead at the hands of their fellow orcs as if in a mass hysteria. The theoretical survivor of this massacre knelt down in the middle of town, and eviscerated himself with a sharp rock.

All of these were orcish villages. Orcs, who could take on five humans each and then their respective families, were massacred without resistance. Hunter lowered his head in respect, then put away his shortbow.

Upon hearing the grisly tale, Bryne understood one thing for certain: He absolutely needed to find the force behind them. More important to him than any elven summoner, more still than any blue-skinned mentor. He took a deep breath, and let it out with a cloud of frigid air. His eyes went glassy, and his hands formed fists. For the briefest of moments during this epiphany, he considered freezing all three of these strangers into solid ice. He absolutely needed to find the culprit; The one that could answer his question. Humans, orcs, elves or demons; Nothing mattered at all beyond t-

Another arrow whizzed past Bryne's head, clipping his ear. "Hunter," The samsaran spoke, alerting the orc. After another brief bout, Bryne was allowed to stand, now clutching his bleeding ear and most definitely broken rib. Bryne cleared his head of the strange thoughts that took him, recalled his standing as a dwarf in orcish lands, and asked Hunter quite simply if he could follow along. When asked why, Bryne simply responded that he needed to find a certain elf.