Jeff sighed and shook his head, a look of concern on his face as he mumbled loud enough for Kaito to hear, “Oh Ryland, you went and did it now.”
Chapter III: Honor and Grit
The light from the tavern spilled from the windows and doorway into the nighttime snow as Ryland and Leila stood apart, facing one another down. The patrons were gathering in a semicircle in the snow, watching the confrontation with undivided attention.
Beyond the doorway inside, a man’s voice grumbled, “Hurry up or close the door, you’re going to let all of the heat out, dammit!”
Ryland, his arms crossed and a serious look plastered on his face, barked out, “Since I’m an outsider and all, why not fill me in on how your customs work with fights and challenges? Don’t want to further cause any slights for you to be mad about.”
Leila pulled her winter gloves over her hands and responded, equally as hostile, “For this? One on one, until the other admits defeat or can’t fight anymore. Given the harsh cold and Hjaal’s hardy nature, I don’t think you’ll be much of a problem, outsider.”
“Works for me. Come get some,” Ryland shot back, cracking his knuckles and starting to move forward through the snow for the young woman.
Leila nodded and began to walk out to meet Ryland, her stare never leaving his.
The patrons grew silent as the moon shone across the freshly fallen white powder, adding more light to the area for the spectators to watch as the native Hjaal and IHB bounty hunter faced off against one another.
When the two arrived within striking range, Leila threw a heavy right hand as Ryland swatted away and countered with a shove to her left shoulder. Leila stepped back in with another right to throw, and Ryland instinctively slipped to the side, parrying the blow sideways with his left hand and throwing a front kick out, landing it square in Leila’s stomach, knocking the wind out of her and sending her backwards into the snow.
Leila rolled back up to her feet, clutching her midsection while gasping for air, puzzled why Ryland wasn’t advancing.
“Are you just going to stand there and let me recover?” Leila snarled.
“I generally try not to hit women, no matter how violent they want to get. It’s manners and courtesy back where I’m from. Those were both warnings. Move in again, and I’ll start fighting for real,” Ryland calmly replied, an undercurrent of anger smoldering in his voice.
Leila got to her feet, put her guard up, and ran in to resume attacking Ryland. The young woman stood only a few inches shorter than Ryland: her height and stature was on the taller and more built side for women than Ryland was used to. She began charging for the outsider before her, this time with a series of wide arcing swings from her fists.
Ryland, no stranger to brawls, held his ground and let the blows come on, blocking the ones he could from his training with Kaito and found that it paid off in that moment, letting her blows continuously catch his forearms and hands. Leila overshot a wide left hook, as she put too much weight forward and Ryland abruptly moved forward, then slammed a fist into her stomach.
Leila gasped as the impact drove some of the wind from her lungs, and desperately threw a fist upwards in a reflexive move to hopefully hit Ryland. The young hunter was caught by surprise and only managed to lean back to avoid the brunt of the blow, still catching some of the impact over his left eye.
A warm liquid trickled from the wound, and Ryland saw a few dark dots drop from his face on the pristine white snow, realizing Leila had cut him open. Leila regained her footing and smirked at the handiwork: Ryland felt nothing but rage.
As Leila went to double up on attacking the wound again, Ryland slipped around another blow to his right and drove a straight right of his own to her stomach, once again driving some of the wind from her. Leila reflexively folded over as Ryland brought down a quick tight right hook and aimed for the side of her neck like he practiced with Kaito. The blow was meant to be quick and end a fight with efficiency, not force, and worked as such when his fist cleanly hit Leila’s exposed neck.
Leila’s eyes went wide for a moment, then slowly closed them as her body went slack. Hunched over, she limply fell back into the snow, the powder puffing up in a small cloud around her and laid motionless on the ground.
The patrons looked to Ryland, as the young man looked to the others, seeing the suspicion in their eyes.
“She’ll live. I only hit a pressure point to incapacitate her. Watch her breath: she lives,” he gruffly explained, taking his left sleeve and holding it to his cut on his eyebrow.
Near Leila’s mouth, plumes of steam were puffing around the lips, and the patrons were all visibly more at ease knowing the young woman was okay.
One of the older men boasting a wiry frame, silver short hair, and brown eyes walked up to Ryland, nodded, and said, “You are at no fault here. You continuously showed that, even as an outsider, you carry yourself with honor, wanted to help us, and backed yourself up in a fight when challenged. That goes a long way here.”
“Good to know,” Ryland huffed as he felt his nerves calm down from the fight. “I still don’t take much pride in fighting women. It’s something I was raised not to do.”
“A chivalrous background, I see. There is nothing wrong with that. In Hjaalren, the women are allowed and even expected to know how to fight. Leila is young and powerful for the women here, but still has much to learn.”
“I see. Well then, we all obviously got off on the wrong foot here. My name is Ryland, bounty hunter of the IHB,” Ryland explained, shaking hands with the older man. Pointing to his two friends, he added, “This is Jeff, who I’m sure you all probably know, and Kaito, my fellow IHB teammate and friend.”
“Olvir, resident Hemmigatr woodsman and game hunter here. A pleasure to meet a fellow mighty soul,” Olvir replied. Despite being middle aged, Olvir still glowed with a young man’s youth, which Ryland could glean from his posture and handshake.
“Why not come to the Firwood Lodge with us and talk more?” Ryland offered.
“I’ll come and join you all for a bit. You seem like lively fellows who know how to have a good time,” Olvir replied with a slight smile.
“Boswick, and Lyle? I haven’t heard of them,” Olvir said to Kaito and Ryland, the three of them sitting around the lodge common area. They had returned from the tavern as Olvir wanted to fill the hunters in on the things mentioned by Leila previously. “Jarl Torga may know more. He could certainly use some help if there are saboteurs here.”
“I’m getting the suspicion that they’re linked more than we believe,” Kaito surmised, enjoying the fireplace warmth.
“They could very well be. How about this: I will help guide you all around the jarldom and see if we can pick up any leads, including the mountains and woods. Does that sound good?”
“If you’re willing to do so, we’d love the help. We need to clear the IHB name up, whether it was truly one of our own or not. What’s your price?” Ryland asked, his eyes lit with excitement.
“My only asking price is that you help us find the snakes that have effectively turned on the jarl and put him in a position of struggle. There’s underhanded things going on around the council, things I’d like to expose. I’m not asking you to jump in on our issues, but if there’s a link to it on behalf of your bounty targets, we’d be deeply grateful. We can handle the rest if the targets are proven to be helping our enemies out.”
Ryland nodded and held a clenched fist up, then replied, “Absolutely. If it helps us, why shouldn’t it help you as well?”
“I think Leila would be less hostile to us too if she knew that we were helping the village out,” Kaito added, placing his hands closer to the crackling fire.
“I apologize again on her behalf. She doesn’t mean ill to outsiders,” Olvir explained. “She’s very protective of our village.”
“I could see that back at the tavern,” Ryland stated with a dismayed look, rubbing the bandage where his eyebrow was cut. “Hope she doesn’t fight like th
at when real threats arise.”
Olvir sat back and chuckled, then said, “Oh no, when she has her greataxe in hand, Leila is a force to be reckoned with. She’s one of the main members of the logging group that helps supply the lumber team.”
“I must say Ryland, you certainly implemented the things I’ve taught you in that fight well,” Kaito acknowledged. “Did you feel how much less force you actually needed to use?”
Ryland smiled as his face lit with vigor, “I felt it! The punch didn’t have to be strong: it simply needed to connect cleanly like you said! Worlds apart from brawling with a dwarf most of my life.”
“Dwarves throw very heavy-handed from my own experiences,” Olvir reminisced. “More about force and strength than technique. I haven’t seen a lot of them lose fights either.”
“Been in your share of brawls with them, I take it?” Kaito jested, a small smile on the corner of his mouth.
“Yes. Nearly all of them reside in the western jarldom of Galnir. Very heavily-populated dwarf population,” Olvir answered before slowly getting up off the plush bench that was arranged around the hearth. “It was a pleasure to meet you both, as well as see Jeff again. Within the next few days, I’ll be able to help you two on your hunt.”
“Thank you, Olvir. We’ll be looking forward to it,” Ryland replied as he and Kaito stood up, shook hands with the older man, then sat back down while Olvir left the lodge. They were surprised when they saw him quickly re-enter, with an uneasy look on his face.
Ryland and Kaito stood up and made their way to him as Olvir said in a tense tone, “Tearwolf outside. I wouldn’t advise going out.”
Ryland drew his axe from his hip and gave Kaito a glance and a nod, with the martial artist returning the gesture. Together, the two stepped out from the doorway and walked down the wooden steps into the snow as the chill hit them on the way down.
From a patch of trees, a bipedal white wolf stood, growling in a low volume. The fur on its body stood on end, and it had a rather thick chest. Only slightly taller than the Frontier Okami, its front legs extended out like humanoid arms and had thin fingers and claws where the paws should’ve been. It slowly started advancing to the duo, who stood at the ready to take it on.
The tearwolf made the first move and, with impressive speed, lunged forward in blur of white for Kaito and Ryland. Ryland held his buckler up to defend the charge, flipped his axe to point forward, swung from below in an arc, and up. The attack paid off as the wolf creature before Ryland didn’t see the attack coming and had the blade slice it on the side of its head, a red streak of blood immediately coloring its white fur.
With a yelp, the tearwolf shook off the blow to see Kaito strafe to its left side and deliver a quick low kick to the knee joint from behind. The tearwolf buckled down in kind, which Kaito quickly followed up with four palm strikes to the face. The head of the tearwolf snapped back with each blow, further stunning the lupine beast before them. Instinctively, the tearwolf swatted at Kaito and grazed his forearm, the coat dulling its claws to a mere swat.
Kaito shifted around to its back while the tearwolf attempted to stand and was met with a cracking blow from Ryland’s buckler, followed by an inside left axe blow. The blade once again hit home, this time catching the body just below the neck. The blow struck deep and true as a splash of blood smattered upon the pristine precipitation of winter, the crimson red a stark contrast to the white all around.
The tearwolf choked and coughed, stunned from such impact as Kaito threw a round kick from behind, catching it off guard and landing cleanly on its jaw. As the tearwolf dropped to both knees, Ryland raised his axe above his head, and snapped his body forward with a mighty swing. His axe plunged into the creature’s skull with a dull crunch as blood began to slowly pool around the wound.
The tearwolf went lifeless and slumped into the night snow while Ryland pulled his axe from its head, cleaned it off and attached it to his axe loop on his belt.
“Are you okay?” Ryland asked Kaito as he inspected the bipedal lupine beast.
“I am,” Kaito replied, turning his eyes to the lodge check-in woman and Olvir, watching from the doorway, with Olvir walking to meet the two.
“Kaito, Ryland! Are you both okay?” Olvir asked, unease in his voice.
Ryland flashed a thumbs up and looked to him, then replied, “No injuries here. So, this is a tearwolf, huh? They’re that common around here?”
“In the woods and mountains, yes. They’ve been approaching the village more and more of late, though. This isn’t normal. They’re getting bold for some reason we haven’t figured out yet.”
“Looks like we have more to deal with than just bounties to hunt,” Ryland responded as the three of them headed back into the lodge, leaving the tearwolf lying in the snow.
Chapter IV: Meeting Jarl Torga Axe-Smasher
Heartstouch 07, 1008
“Halt. State your names and business,” a guard of the jarl’s longhouse said, as another stopped Ryland, Kaito, and Jeff as the three approached the entrance to the jarl’s longhouse. Both guards were in icy blue clothes, and their shirts sported the same three red triangles as the banner in the tavern from the night before.
“Captain Jeff Balrick of The Raging Hammer. I’m here on behalf of these two to speak on some matters with the tearwolf issue of late, and to catch some criminals at large around here,” Jeff explained.
The guards moved to the side as the one to their right nodded and spoke, “Very well. You are permitted to enter.”
Jeff opened the door and led the bounty hunters inside. Before them was a wide open area with a long table that held platters and goblets, full of food and drink for the people within. The roaring fires mixed well with the morning sunlight pouring in through the windows, lighting the common area beautifully. There were servants moving about, handling their tasks around the longhouse. The ceiling rafters held the banners of Hemmigatr from them, catching the orange glow of the flames in the fire pit from below. Across the other side of the common area, a middle-aged man sat on a large chair, built of finished wood, with a bear head mounted above it, and two crossed axes hung below it.
Jeff led Ryland and Kaito across the common area, making their way to the throne where the jarl sat. When they reached him, Jeff took off his captain’s cap and bowed before the ruler, prompting Ryland and Kaito to do the same.
“It’s been too long, Jarl Torga,” Jeff said with a lighthearted tone as the man on the throne smiled, stood up, and returned the gesture.
“Jeff, you are a respite of a face for the things of late that have been going on here,” Torga replied, a kind smile on his face. Despite a few silver hairs at his temples, Torga’s face didn’t show his age as much as it would for most. His brown beard was trimmed nicely to match his short dark hair, and his green eyes showed as much warmth as the fire in the pit did. He stood nearly a head taller than the three before him, and had a lean frame that was accentuated by his well-fitted decorative tunic and trousers.
Jeff and Torga grinned and clasped forearms, then pulled in for a hug, eagerly patting each other on the back before Torga held his head up, smiled, clapped a hand on Jeff’s shoulder, and asked, “Back here on business, I presume?”
“Business, as well as aid for some criminals running wild around these parts,” Jeff replied, as he stepped back to the duo behind him. Holding his arms out to each, he said respectively, “I’d like to introduce one of the newest bounty hunting teams of the IHB, the Frontier Okami. This here is Kaito Otani, and this is Ryland Legato.”
“An honor to meet you, my jarl,” Ryland greeted, as Kaito clasped arms with the jarl before letting Ryland do the same.
“Welcome to the village of Hemmigatr, you two,” Jarl Torga answered. “Why don’t we speak in the battle room where things are quieter?”
Torga led the three to a room that sat on the left side of the throne area, which contained a large round table with chairs. Weapons of various kinds were in racks, as well as piece
s of armor and pelts. Torga beckoned for a guard to stand watch over the room as he closed the door behind them. The four all took seats at the table as Torga smiled and said, “That’s better. More privacy for whatever business you have to explain. You see, Hjaalren isn’t one for outsiders usually, but if you’re friends with Jeff, then I have no need to worry. Now, what brings you two here?”
Ryland leaned forward and replied, “We’ve been tracking two bounties in the form of criminals named Boswick Beaumont and Lyle Petrov, and they have escaped to Hemmigatr here. They both are involved in a smuggling line that runs all the way from Turidia, through here, and to one last endpoint we’ve yet to discover. Coupled with the fact that the IHB’s banner was found at one of your looted storehouses, we’re also trying to confirm whether there’s another IHB member running amok or it’s the work of our targets. Not only that, but they may be involved with some of the locals here, which is no doubt a detriment to you and your jarldom. Either way, we plan to catch the perpetrators and bring them in.”
Jarl Torga took in Ryland’s words, his face showing he was digesting the explanation, then after a moment of silence, replied, “Then you are most certainly welcome to our village if that’s the case. I could use help on that end if it will stop some of the sabotage going on in the village.”
“We’ve heard of things of that nature going on, may we ask what exactly, my jarl?” Kaito inquired.
Torga leaned forward, clasped his hands together, and explained, “There are traitors in my own council. I have a total of five, and three have been aiding raids and expeditions of late on the smaller islands off our coast. Over the last handful of months, we’ve been having supplies just vanish out of nowhere, money dwindling and going missing as well, tearwolves showing up more and more, and maps and charted courses leading our best navigators astray. At this point, I suspect that there’s a few on my council as well as others connected in this. I strongly believe one of them is trying to usurp me, and if I can’t prove or do something about these problems, then things could really get sour here.”
The Winter's Hunt Page 3
