the tale of urnyras jael, part XVIII: the hunting party.

Muga chieftain took a sip from his drink, as the bonfire reflecting the traces of old age on his face. His expression was grim, and he was thoughtful; as if picking the right words to explain the situation. Urnyras Jael raised her eyebrows, waiting for him to speak.

"We, muga, are a subtle race. Not many others know about us, and that's the best for us. We have settled our lives within these woods, under the soil, inside the caves - we are fine. We were, at least. We are not anymore. This lurking menace, doomed us. We are scared. We are tired of moving in the woods all the time, running away. It follows us. It sees us."

"-What- follows you?" asked Urnyras Jael, rather impatiently.

"We don't know," shrugged the muga chieftain, in desperation. A giant, devouring us. Slaying my scouts, hunters. We never see them again. We hear the echoes of its dreadful screaming within the woods, in the distance. We tremble in fear everytime. Our spears, arrows and steel will not harm it."

"Can you describe it to me? What does it look like? How big is it? Is it a beast? What do you know about it?" Urnyras Jael asked. She could feel the fire of excitement burning inside her with such an unexpected, challenging quest.

"It is a beast, that's for sure. Red eyes, sharp fangs - the Spirits witness, the sight was so intimidating, I wish not to see it again. It is huge - even taller than what they call a kheron - and broader, of course. His body is covered with hair. It carries a talisman, too. One of the hunted scouts told so - shortly before he died of his wounds, last week."

Urnyras Jael scratched her chin, nodding. Unexpectedly, muga chieftain stood up and ran towards Urnyras Jael and kneeled, holding her hand.

"Help us, fylla," he said, with a trembling voice, peering to the gound. "Save us. Only you can save us, relieve us from this curse. You are sent by the Gods, Spirits bless you."

Urnyras Jael smirked.

"I will," she said. "But under one condition, if you wish to negotiate."

"Say it," muga chieftain looked up to her face.

"I want Beus to be released," she said. "He looks like a noble knight of Rolinbragh - he can be of help."

"The eila prisoner? He is an old man, he is weak!" said chieftain, rather surprised. "Why do you want him?"

"Him," said Urnyras Jael, "and one muga warrior to witness the glory to be bestowed upon your people. A worthy, skilled, honored warrior of your tribe shall help me, too."

"Fine," sighed the chieftain. "Your wishes are granted." He quickly screamed some words in his native tongue. Two muga guards quickly ran towards the cell she was imprisoned. Shortly after, the muga guardians brought Beus of Rolinbragh on a sedan - he was still unconscious.

Muga chieftain muttered some words, holding his hand above Beus' head. Beus stopped shivering shortly. Urnyras Jael could see his breathing returning to a normal pace.

Finally, the chieftain clapped his hands, and several muga, out of nowhere, ran to bring some food to three of them.

Shortly after, Beus opened his eyes. His bones slowly warmed by the heat of the bonfire, and Urnyras Jael was treating his old body. Shortly after the foods arrived, she asked for blankets and some water, too.

"Are you alright?" asked Urnyras Jael. "How do you feel?"

"Where am I?" asked Beus, looking around. "Am I dead already?"

"No, no," Urnryas shook her head. "Muga released you. You are a free man now - I mean, as free as I am."

"What do you mean?" said Beus, trying to figure out Urnyras Jael's words. "I don't-"

He fell asleep again, his old body collapsing because of days of tiredness.

"Let him rest," muga chieftain observed the two of them. "He will be fine."

...

Beus quickly recovered, merely in three days. The muga chieftain ordered his tribesmen to return his armor and weapons and provided Urnyras Jael and Beus the best means of accommodation.

The best you can expect from a nomadic tribe, of course.

"I can't thank you enough," said Beus. "I owe you my life. If there is any way I can repay-"

"There is a way," said Urnyras Jael, peering at Beus with a smile. "These muga released us, so we can hunt this 'menace' they are cursed by."

"What beast?" asked Beus, in surprise.

"The beast that caused our lovely muga people go tense and paranoid," said Urnryas Jael. "The source of their troubles. They are being hunted by this unknown, giant hairy beast that they are uneasy for a while now. They released me so I can hunt it down. I offered the condition that I shall do so if only they release you to aid me, as well as a brave, strong muga warrior to accompany us."

"I have seen and slain many foes in the past," said Beus, with a slight, calm smile. "If that is my life debt, of course I will aid you with my sword."

"Thank you, Beus," Urnyras Jael said. "Let's hunt it down and get out of these woods. I don't have much time to linger, anyway."

They've heard a clinging voice in front of the entrance of their tent. Urnyras Jael slowly approached the entrance, unsheathing a dagger, slightly opening the canvas cloth.

"What is it?" she whispered to the muga, armed tip to toe, waiting in front of the tent anxiously. The muga jumped with that unexpected voice, as Urnyras Jael opened up the canvas entirely.

"What is it?" she repeated.

"I-I-"

"Speak, will you?"

"I am Geju," the muga could say. "I am a warrior, I will help you."

"So you are the warrior that the chieftain assigned?" asked Urnyras Jael.

"N-no," Geju shook his head. "He didn't tell me. I am volunteering."

"Wouldn't that be a problem?" Urnyras Jael asked, as she kneeled in front of Geju.

"I don't know," said Geju, looking down, apparently shy to look at Urnyras Jael in the eye. "I am a warrior, I want to prove my worth to my people. The c-chieftain... would never assign me. Everyone thinks I am weak and cowardly..."

"Are you?" asked Urnyras Jael.

"No, no!" said Geju, in a panic, with a touch of offense as he frowned. "I am... just... inexperienced, I guess."

"Will you be able to hunt that beast with us?"

"I think I will," Geju said. "I have what it takes, I just... never had the chance."

"Let's talk to the chieftain, then," said Urnyras, standing up again. "In any case, we need his approval."

...

The muga chieftain laughed so hard that Urnyras Jael had to plug her ears.

"Geju?! With you?? To hunt the beast? I am not sure that's the best choice, fylla!" he said, while wiping off his tears of laughter. Urnyras Jael slowly turned her gaze towards Geju, seeing the poor muga with a broken pride hurt so bad in her heart, she quirked her lips, turning her gaze towards the chieftain again.

"And look at the armor he's wearing! Where did you fing it, Geju? Stole it from your sister's clothes?" the chieftain burst into another laughter.

"Chieftain, if you allow," said Urnyras Jael, feeling very bad for Geju, she had to do what had to be done. "I wish the companionship of Geju with me on my hunting quest."

"W-what?" said the chieftain, still chuckling. "Are you serious? He still doesn't have a single kill or a title, and he is older than our bravest hero, Vugre the Skullsmasher!"

"Maybe that is because he was never given the opportunity," said Urnyras Jael. "I humbly ask you to pledge his services to me."

"Granted," he said, with a dismissive hand gesture. "It's better - I won't be sparing my best warriors!"

"So, it is formed," said Beus, stepping in the chieftain's tent. "A hunting party of three companions. I am sure we will return here with the head of this beast."

"I hope you do, with all due honesty," said chieftain. "And probably with the remains of Geju!"

As he bursted into another laughter, Urnyras Jael hastily bowed to the chieftain, and led Geju and Beus out of the tent.

"I am worthless," said Geju. A lightning fell somewhere not so far away, and the rain started to fall.

Urnyras Jael, ignoring the rain, kneeled in front of Geju again.

"Look above, my friend," said Urnyras Jael, holding Geju's clumsily placed shoulderpad. "We are on a quest, and the rain will be accompanying us. Leave what you were, here, in this very camp. Leave what you were, or what the others think you were. Leave it here, dead. Lying on the soil. Leave aside everyone else's prejudices. I give you my word that when we are done with this task, you will return home, with such a great honor that your tribe will praise you every day."

"If I leave myself dead here," said Geju, "How am I to live?"

"Sometimes," said Urnyras Jael, "It is this fresh rain that makes you feel alive."

Under the heavy rain, within the chill it brought along, three hunting companions merged with the gray-greenness of the Southern Lyca'naen Woods.

the tale of urnyras jael, part XVII: salty streets of Calua - part II

"Greetings, sir," spoke Urnyras Jael, with her soft, disguised voice. Her transformed accent was Dwesian, but still with a touch of fyllian dialect. She was trying hard to keep a smile at all times - she was trying not to look anxious. It wasn't her first incognito experience, but it was still strange to walk around and to know that others do not see you as what or who you are. She couldn't stop that urge to look behind her every now and then, with an unavoidable sensation as if someone would attack from behind, figuring out who or what she is.

"Yes, how can I help yae?" said the old, dirty-looking, typical-Caluan clerk, lifting his head up from the paperwork he was busy with; speaking in a stinking Kith'lath accent.

"We are looking for the clerk called Aural," said Urnyras Jael, clasping her hands in front of her, nervously yet with a significant effort not to reveal any anxiety.

"Aural? Well, he is upstaers. He keeps the family records, that's what yaer's looking fer?"

"That's correct," said Alùn. "Thank you very much, kind sir."

Old clerk simply mumbled and grunted, nodding his head, followed by a dismissive hand gesture.

"I assume we bumped into a kind, polite Caluan official," whispered Urnyras to Alùn, as they headed towards the stairs to find Aural the clerk. Alùn snickered.

...

"Aural?" asked Alùn, to a young-looking, slim, blue-eyed, blond man. He didn't look Caluan or even Kith'lathian; he had the appearance of an Ow'landese. When he spoke, his accent simply approved Alùn's presumption.

"Yes, how can I help?"

"We are in need of some records," said Urnyras Jael impatiently. "El'nar family."

"El'n-, ah, right," nodded Aural, rather frantically. He was apparently not expecting them this early, and for several seconds he simply didn't know what to do, or how to react. He eventually smiled, and beckoned them over. "Follow me, they are inside the archives."

He pushed a thick, wooden door after unlocking the rusty lock with a key he kept around his neck. He carefully closed the door after carefully observing other clerks and if anyone saw them or not. As he walked in, he quickly called Alùn and Urnyras to walk in too. He shook off some dust from his tunic. He started to cough, most possibly because of the dust: Urnyras Jael wondered for how many decades -not years, but decades- this archive was untouched.

As Alùn and Urnyras Jael stepped in, they started to sneeze and cough too - the dust was simply blurring their vision and it was almost impossible to regularly breathe. Eventually, Aural reached to a shelf, and started to search for something - probably a tome of records, Urnryas Jael thought. Before she was done thinking about it, Aural pulled a book.

A secret pathway swung open behind that shelf. It was a narrow and low pathway, however it didn't look as dusty and unused as this very archive room did. Aural grabbed a torch from the wall (which was lit) and asked them to follow. They slowly walked down the pathway for a considerable time, until they reached another wooden door. Aural hung the torch on the empty iron ring and pulled it down - the door slowly opened inwards. They walked in, and Aural locked the door again.

The room they were now in had a huge ceiling. It was dark-gray, with long, dark curtains covering long but narrow, colorful windows. It resembled those temples of Lyca'nae Verd in Rolinbragh, yet as if they were abandoned. It had an altar, wooden benches and long seats, yet no sign of life Aural slowly walked towards a fireplace below a huge portrait of a noble knight that neither Urnyras Jael nor Alùn could identify. Urnyras Jael wondered for how long they walked, since she did not remember seeing such a high chapel nearby the Town Hall.

"Welcome," said Aural, with a friendly smile on his face, after lighting the fireplace. He shook off some more dust unpleasantly. I wasn't expecting you until tomorrow. You moved fast. It is good."

For two, three seconds, they waited without talking. Then, they sat to the benches next to the fireplace, as Aural gestured.

"There wasn't much intervention," shrugged Alùn. "Just a bunch of pirates - ah, and a shady man, killed our only prisoner, before he could talk. I was about to snap the name of the Bannerlord out of him. I believe the Bannerlord should be taken down, that's for sure now."

"It always was, honestly," said Aural. "Calua is known to be an easygoing city when it comes to politics - people are not patriotic. They simply do not care about the freedom of Kith'lath or the Solian mandate. You see, long time has passed since the heroic decades of Kith'lath and its strong ties with the Solian Empire. Now it is practically a pirate hub. The Empire is weak here, fellows. I mean, for Lyca'nae's fiery gaze - when Wundhian fleet came crushing down the local fleet, the entire town was simply idle. They are annoyingly unresponsive."

"What about those pirate mercenaries we have encountered in the sewer line?" asked Urnyras Jael.

"Well, as you have named it - they are mercenaries. If the Empire was faster than the Bannerlord to hire them, we would have an additional fleet, you know." He smiled, then poked the burning wood in the fireplace with an iron stick.

"So, you're telling me that the Bannerlord is simply fighting back -or will fight back- with a bunch of... mercenaries?" Alùn asked, he looked rather confused.

"That's what they want it to look like, if you ask me," said Aural. "I sense the crap is deeper, and noone is courageous enough to put their bare hands into it to see what lies there. Look, the Bannerlord might be a fierce man, but he is no idiot. He wouldn't simply hire a bunch of seadogs with rotten galleons and rum and charge against the Empire. He must have some support from the Dytherian invaders. If nothing, he timed the rebellion so perfectly, as the Empire was dealing with the invasion, it wasn't much of a big deal to organize a local mercenary army to separate Kith'lath. The King is very busy at the moment. I've heard the armies have ruined Dwese.

"There is a battle in Orbh City," said Urnyras Jael. "Gosto He'uch knows how many perished so far."

Aural looked down. They didn't speak, all listened to the burning and softly, gently crackling dry wood. Aural grabbed the iron stick and poked the wood a little bit more, putting another on top.

"I was not well-informed of the true intent of your visit," asked Aural. "Please ask me, and I shall provide you whatever information you need."

"There will be a full-scale assault on Calua City soon," said Alùn. Urnyras Jael did not know of such thing, yet she could surely assume such assault might actually occur, neither Krischnokh nor Gallanae-mylen spoke of such an actually-planned assault - soon. She raised an eyebrow, and listened to what Alùn had to say.

"And what the N'yaian Forces require is an army within the walls before the assault begins. You know, disguised army - which will turn against the Bannerlord shortly after the assault begins, paralyzing the Bannerlord and leaving him no space. Since, as you told, Calua is a city of thugs and mercenaries, I am sure we can provide enough currency to... convince a group of mercenaries, as the Bannerlord did."

"I see," said Aural, "Let me see what I c-"

An explosion shattered the chapel windows and walls.

All turned black. All Urnyras Jael could barely hear, within the twisted corners of her consciousness, were three words spoken out by a man with a hissing voice:

"Take them away."