• Closed • When There is a Prize to be Claimed (Corvus)

[Javlen]

50th of Vhalar, Arc 716

The day before...
Wanted Dead: Meera Forwyth, an Aukari escaped convict known as the Pyromancer, has been setting fire to several of the farming settlements outside of Ne'haer. She has caused tens of thousands of gold nels in damage and must be stopped immediately...
Reward: 250 gn
Javlen ran a calloused finger across the inked page, translating the Common words in his head. The Lothar committed the details to memory. He had not come to Ne'haer necessarily to seek bounties, but the board drew his attention. taking bounties had proven good money in the past, if not challenging at times. This job had the potential to be just that, good money, but challenging. Perfect.

Aukari were dangerous. Javlen didn't hate them, he had never really met one. But he knew stories. This 'Pyromancer' was destroying peoples livelihoods and lives. Javlen then set off find any bit of information on the fugitive Aukari.
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It was not hard to find Meera Forwyth's latest victims. The field was scorched black, the outbuildings burnt leaving only the skeletons of dark, broken frames. Javlen strode towards the meager house to meet the farmer and his wife walking towards him. the haggered couple offered up what they had witnessed. The red-headed woman, the flames. The wife explained how their dog, sensing the intruder, had harangued the woman, tore her garment before the hound was engulfed in flames. She pulled out what looked like a torn rag. The dog had dropped it before being consumed, and miraculously, it survived. It was the only clue they could offer. The Lothar thanked them and left.

In the solitude of his camp in the woods, Javlen stripped and gathered his clothes, boots, knife, several short lengths of rope and his totems into a ruck sack, his ax strapped to its side. He laid the scrap of the Pyromancer's clothes on the pack. Then Javlen clutched the totem crafted from bone and fur, stained crimson with blood, and wove his magic. The Becomer writhed on the ground for many agonizing bits, but when his body put itself back together, a ten-foot long long lion stood up. Shaking out his mane, Javlen stalked to the ruck sack, pressing his muzzle to the scrap of cloth. With the lion's sharp senses, he drew in the aromas it held. There was the hint of smoke, a curious personal scent and the smell of an herb he had come across in the Willow Wood. Snagging the packs strap between his teeth, the lion bounded off.

Cautiously, the lion returned to the edge of the burnt field and began from there sniffing the air for the scents from the cloth. It was not easy, the feline senses were not as keen as a dog's, but much sharper than that of a human, or Lotharro. It took nearly a break of wandering around the farms before he picked up something. First one direction, then another until he discerned a specific direction, towards the forest. He spent several breaks losing and finding the trail through the forest, seeking the fugitive's scent on leaves along deer trails, finding small booted foot prints in soft earth beside a stream, even a strangely scorched tree amid others untouched by fire. Finally, the curious odor of the herb detected on the cloth drifted on the cooling breeze. That was easier to follow, and the lion padded after the scent.

He found the strong aroma came from small bushes that grew near the entrance to a cave. Stalking quietly closer, foot prints and the faint smell of the Aukari confirmed it. She was there, or at least had been. The Lothar lion considered charging into the cave and rending Forwyth to pieces then and there and drag her back to claim the reward. But if it looked like a beast had killed her and not he himself, Javlen could be denied the gold. And, maybe, there would be words to exchange before the Aukari's fate was sealed.

Slipping away, Javlen found a ravine where he again subjected himself to the ritual shapeshifting. He lay in the leaves for several bits, gaining strength after the arduous transformation. Donning his garb and boots, the Lothar slung the empty pack over his shoulders. With the knife thrust through his belt and war axe in hand, Javlen made his way back to the cave. Lingering outside behind a bush, Javlen paused a moment to listen for sounds from the dark opening.

[Corvus]

Meera Forwyth.

The name seemed to be on the lips of every farmhand in the area. The bounty hunter had spent the majority of her time, after getting her information from the many drunkards that made the taverns their home, traversing the fields on her stallion, with Lorkan in tow, questioning the workers and farmers whose crops and buildings had been razed to the ground. While it had been an unfortunate event, Corvus couldn't claim to feel any save for pity for the worker's livelihood. Things simply happened, as far as she understood and in the wake of calamity, you had to survive.

Most of the workers did, some didn't. She'd passed several carts on the dirt road with men laying dirtied blankets over seared corpses. What joy would someone gain from this? She wondered idly.

She's a predator, surrounded by prey, The ruddy wolf offered as he picked up his pace beside the wary horse.

I'd probably feel more pity had she been a defenseless wretch. But its clear she's not defenseless, Corvus shrugged and rolled a shoulder. On their way, they saw a settlement with nothing but a skeleton of a building and a man and a woman digging through the ruins.

"Oi!" Corvus called, as she brought the horse up steadily and paused several hundred paces away. The couple glanced up, their eyes wary at the sight of the armed woman and the wolf that slunk beside her.

"Our house is in ruins, we have nothing to offer," the man, covered in ash, told her.

"I'm not looking to rob you," the hunter raised her hands in a show of faith. "I'm looking for the Aukari, Meera Forwyth. I suspect she did this to you folk?"

"Right she did," the woman answered with a scathing reply. "But there's already a man on her trail. Hopefully she's rotting in the dirt by now."

"The more people on her bounty the better," the man piped in. His voice was raspy, like that of a smoker. "We gave 'im a piece of cloth from her. But the smell might still be lingering, if that mongrel's any use to you." He pointed at the wolf.

"He is," she replied, and tilted her head. Go on, Lorkan.

The wolf padded across the seared debris, his nose in the dirt. Faint... I can smell something.. I don't know if it's her... It leads in the forest! The wolf broke out into a run, as Corvus hustled her steed onward on his trail. She didn't want to lose him, nor the trail that he was following. Among a campsite they came, empty, though it was, Lorkan remained there, his eager nose sniffing at the supplies and the embers of a fresh fire.

"Someone was here. The other hunter?" Corvus' brows furrowed. "Fuck." She couldn't let some other bastard take her mark. "Can you smell where he's gone?"

"Yes, over here!" Lorkan began his race again, through the forest's tall trunks and the overgrowth that was promptly trampled under paw and hoof.

I can smell it-- it's close, it's... Lorkan paused, his ears and tail erect as he stared on. There.

Corvus halted the horse and promptly dismounted, tying the reigns around a trunk before gathering her bow and quiver, slinging it over one shoulder. She could see the mouth of a cave from her vantage, but crept closer, her head kept low beneath the brush so as to avoid being spotted. Every step she took was calculated and weighed in order to avoid the snap of a twig. But as the breeze picked up and the leaves rustled overhead, Lorkan's ears twitched and his nose swerved toward the bush that a large man was distinctly hiding behind. He let out a low growl, his lean body crouched as if ready to spring. Hunter.

Corvus' eyes scoured the bush at the wolf's word, and there, she could see the vague figure of a man. With a heavy exhale, she crept closer. There was no red headed woman around as far as she could see, which meant the man had not apprehended her, and the bounty could very well be hers... if she could find a way to make him turn back.

"Oi," she called quietly, as she crouched in a bush across from his. "This isn't your catch. Turn your ass back to Ne'Haer."

[Javlen]

Javlen had to admit as he hunkered down to stake out the cave, he hadn't thought through his plan. Other bounties he had pursued he had relied upon brawn and persistence to capture the mark, and succeeded. But, how exactly did one capture an Aukari with a knack for burning homesteads? Just like everything else he did, the Lothar figured, sheer will. It had worked so far, though the scar count was rising with every job.

There was still no sign of Meera Forwyth, and daylight was burning.

Javlen bent low, the grip on the axe haft tightening. He was about to stalk closer to the cave opening, hoping to discern some sign of the rogue Aukari. But a sound arose off to his side, like a faint low growl. Then his head snapped in the direction of the feminine voice, hard eyes glaring. Not far off, a woman moved into a crouch behind another bush, bow in hand and a wolf at her side. Both the animal and the woman bore the same golden eyes.

She was pleasing to the eyes but was talking crazy.

Javlen's brow furrowed at her words, the muscles of his jaw clenching before releasing. the Lothar coughed a scoff. What made the sarding wench think she could crawl up and claim the catch when he was already there!? The big man leaned in the woman's direction, pointing at her with his ax, baring his own subtle fangs. "By Ilaren's sweaty tit, I am not leaving my prize to you. What make you think she be your catch? I was already here. Take that tight little ass of yours back to town with your wolfling and find another mark." He gruffed with a thick accent.

Then he paused, huffed, and sized up the woman. They said not to judge a book by its cover. Javlen had never seen a book, but the concept was sound. Going by her 'cover', the huntress' looked good, determined, well armed, impressive predator at her side, and obviously touched by an Immortal. The curves and attractive features definitely counted for something. But what the gilded-eyed woman was underneath was an unknown. She may have been a neophyte who would run at the first sign of danger, or a practiced assassin who would shoot him in the back at her first chance and horde the reward. The Lothar's gaze narrowed on her, as if trying to look through her skin. Then he decided. Javlen's instinct was that the woman knew what she was doing.

"Listen, this is an Aukari here. The chances of taking her down be doubled with two hunters." He spoke in a harsh whisper. "Split reward, but double chances to get it. Neither of us gets reward if we kill the other." Javlen's gaze darted between the cave opening and the woman crouching behind the bush. "If she is not caught on the first attempt, neither of us may get another chance. Join forces?"