Topic: Bounty Transfer 913

Drune

Date: 2016-06-18 17:29 EST
"Fourteen," declared Drune. "Fourteen, lads!" He was immensely proud of himself, having just flicked his fourteenth pebble through the small barred window he had been looking out of for the past week. Was it a week? Drune had lost count.

There was a muffled cheer around him, followed by shouts of their own tallies. The minotaur smirked at calls of fifty-two, seventy-nine and a hundred and four. Drune never had good aim. It was a silly game, he thought. But it was the only source of amusement they had. The game depended on finger-flicking accuracy, how bumpy the road was, and the fortune to find a steady supply of pebbles in the hay bed they all rested upon.

Drune was running out of pebbles.

The prison wagon train came to a sudden stop and the captives lurched forward. Drune wasn't sure how many there were; his windows only looked to the sides, and he could only hear four, maybe five from his cart. And judging by the straining of the wagon, he guessed at least a dozen carts. But he perked his ears at footsteps approaching his rolling cell. He excitedly tried to look outside but was stopped just short, as always, by titanium shackles bolted to the floor.

There was a metallic screech, a thunk, some ratcheting and his carriage shifted followed by two thumps. His wagon unhitched from the rest of the caravan train.

"It's been fun, lads," bellowed the bull. "But dis is ma stop."

It was the end of the line, he figured. He wasn't sure where he had been delivered; prisoners on the caravan were swapped every so often at various trading posts and towns, and Drune had long ago stopped trying to map where they were going. There was a hammering on his carriage wall, and then he listened to the caravan rattle away, continuing down the road.

"Well now," he muttered. "Ya could've at least left an aleskin."

And so there sat the prisoner wagon, parked at the crossroads just outside the city limits, reinforced with titanium at every point of weakness. A note on the outside read as follows:

Prisoner transport 913 as requested, Bounty Hunter Dire. He's your problem now. Good luck.

Dire

Date: 2016-06-25 14:39 EST
The sun had finally begun to set, bringing an end to the eighth of many long days in the saddle. The cooler evening air was much anticipated by everyone in the party, but to none more than the gargoyle astride the massive, quadruped reptile at the head of the group. The small band, associates in the bounty trade, included a female drow elf, a young male centaur, two half-orc brothers, and herself. The gargess muttered a curse and shifted uncomfortably, leaning further back into the shade of the howdah's canopy, not that it helped any. No matter what she did it was impossible to escape the stifling summer heat. Clad in soft doeskin trews, modified with make-shift drapes bound around her ankles to cover her bare, tri-taloned feet. A loose fitting, long sleeve linen shirt laced to the neck, ribs and bust bound firm by a tanned leather bodice. Her wings she kept curled forward and wrapped about her shoulders, over them a light gauze cloak that clasped between her clavicles. Gloves, minus the finger-tips to allow for her heavy, curved black talons, protected her hands and wrists. The thin linen scarf that covered her head was wrapped and tucked just so to fit snug across her forehead and fall loosely around the lower half of her face, leaving only a narrow slit for her eyes. A bandit-mask painted in black with a mixture of soot, moist clay and animal fat had been applied thick around her eyes and across the bridge of her nose. — Though she could be active during the day, unlike others of her kind, direct sun on flesh that was not meant to see the light of day had miserable consequences, thus necessitating the garb she wore. She despised operating during the day almost as much as she hated being confined to the ground. Alas, here she was enduring both. The bounty offered for the return of her latest mark was too much to ignore so for now she'd have to set her rathers aside. This one job would cover provisions for the winter to come and then some, even after a five-way split. If brought back alive the reward would be doubled. To get it done in a timely manner daytime travel was required. This job was unlike any other she had done in the past, as this fugitive had already been captured. Her job was to retrieve his prison caravan and escort him back from a neighboring realm. It seemed like easy profit. The fugitive was a minotaur, a savage one she surmised, based on the offered reward, but other than that she gave it little thought. Now, just over a week, finally they were approaching their destination. The trees had begun to thin and the slope had leveled off, two details of the map she had committed to memory. The cross-roads were just ahead. From their vantage point on the hillside, rooftops and taller buildings could now be seen in the distance. "Rhydin." The word a mere whisper on her breath. She mused for a moment, tallying major life events since her departure and surmised that it had been about a decade and a half since last she was here. A fleeting desire to see the city's changes up close, to see if the Goblin Pub still stood and who might be there passed through her thoughts. The idea, though, was quickly banished when the clearing and the prisoner cell came into view, jarring her back into the present. Reigning her mount to a halt the gargess beckoned and called to one of the others traveling in single file behind her, "U"jin." The young centaur quickly side-stepped the drow in front of him and skipped into a trot, passing the elf perched atop her raptor who threateningly snapped at his flank as he moved by. Hooves crunching on loose shale, he came to a stop alongside the goyle as she dismounted, his bow already in hand. "Ma"am?" With a twist of her wrist she motioned a forward circle with her hand, 'scout the perimeter, be on your guard." U"jin, though young in years carried himself like a seasoned soldier. Strong and proud, his well-muscled physique something of a marvel even among his kin, a fact that even the surly gargess couldn't deny having noticed. Quiet and calculating, an excellent marksman and deadly at swordplay, he was probably the most capable of dealing with the center of an ambush should one be laying in wait. She had worked with him thrice before and considered him the more trusted member of the troupe she lead. He gave her a quick nod then sprang into a gallop, quickly disappearing into the trees on the far side of the clearing. As she watched him go the gargess gave a loud, sharp whistle, then waited. To the right movement caught her eye, and then the rustling of shrubbery and the squeal of an injured animal met her ears. An imp then shot out of the shadows of some scrub brush, first on foot then clumsily taking to the air. Furless, greyish-green in color, perhaps a foot and a half tall; oversized eyes, black and pupilless, large feline-ish ears, four-free limbs and a set of bat-like wings. Flying awkwardly toward the mounted group, she was struggling to gain control of a spirited cottontail she had caught a short time before she heard the summons. Her jaws and needle-sharp teeth clamped down on the scruff while little arms and raccoon-like paws were flailing about in an attempt to subdue the rodent. With wings flapping out of sync, she flew several feet above the ground, repeatedly dipping low before eventually gaining some reasonable height. Just when it appeared that she finally had the upper hand, a well-placed rabbit claw caught the underside of her nose. With a wheezed yelp, the imp released her grip and the rodent fell to the ground with a muffled thud, the fall having killed it. Within a blink the imp had righted herself and was diving for revenge. She landed atop her prey, teeth and claws bared, she clung with all fours and toppling head over wing, over tail, rolling several paces before flopping to a stop just short of the gargoyle's feet. The rabbit was dead, limp, and once again in the jaws of the imp, who for good measure, gave her head a vicious shake. Quite proud of her catch, she gazed up at the gargoyle and wagged her short nub of a tail as well as the rest of her rear. Grinning from ear to ear from around the rabbit's dingy fur, she spat out her kill and gave it nudge forward with her short snout closer to the gargess" feet. "So much for salvaging the hide" snorted the drow, more annoyed than amused with the imp's antics. With a twitch of her dark fingers she shot a tiny bolt of energy at the ground, intentionally missing, but startling the imp nonetheless. The gargoyle snarled, grabbed for the raptor's reigns and jerked them down and forward. At nearly seven feet tall she stood at eye level with the beast, her surprising strength nearly yanking it off of its feet. Eyes flaring white hot, the gargess gripped the front of the elf's tunic with her free hand and roughly pulled her from the saddle. Feet dangling, she brought her face within an inch of her own and hissed quiet threat, 'do that again and I will break every bone in your body!" Taloned grip then released, letting the elf drop about three feet to the ground. Landing hard but quickly regaining her footing, the drow glowered at the gargoyle but wisely said nothing. It was a harsh reminder that the gargess was not one to be trifled with and bullying the imp was a surefire way to piss her off. Tossing the reigns aside the gargoyle turned back and snapped her fingers at the imp then thumb-pointed skyward. The rabbit was immediately abandoned and the imp leapt into flight to begin making patrol circles above the clearing. The gargoyle stooped and grabbed the dead rabbit by a hind foot. She gave it a good shake to loosen dust and pebbles then pitched it into an empty saddle bag slung over the rump of her mount. Perhaps fifteen minutes had passed when U"jin reappeared and gave the "all clear? signal. With silent hand gestures she commanded the two brothers, mounted on draft horses, each ponying another behind them to pull the wagon, to move ahead and toward the prison cell.

Drune

Date: 2016-06-26 16:10 EST
"Fifteen! Fifteen la-" Oh, right. Drune had been left alone. It was a fortunate feat he was able to find and reach another pebble, much less flick it through the barred window. And he had nobody to brag to.

His ears perked at a sharp whistle and Drune raised a heavy brow. Maybe they had ale! He stood, his massive frame not able to fully stand in the caravan cell. Titanium chains rattled and strained as he leaned towards the window. The minotaur crossed his arms, raised them over his head, clapped them together, tried to stretch them between his legs trying to stretch the chains and look outside, but they were bolted securely to the center of the caravan frame and led him to no avail. He settled on backing up to the window, his shackled arms outstretched and pulling the chains to their limits, and peering over his shoulder.

A centaur! Drune hadn't seen one of those in over a decade. Not since he hired that lot so many years ago to lead his merc band to the oasis. Now there was a story....

Drune grunted. His vantage point gave him little insight into his surroundings. Black skin, white hair. A dark elf maybe? And a few more voices, some hissing and growling. One sounded familiar, but he couldn't place it.

"Oy!" he barked. "Horse man! Bring us some ale, yeah' I can't pay ya now, but gimme a week to sack a monastery and I'll—no wait, come back, lad."

The minotaur sighed and grunted.

Dire

Date: 2016-07-01 03:39 EST
Everyone in the group heard the calls from the prisoner but no one acknowledged them. "Xil"lith," grunted the gargoyle, speaking over her shoulder to the drow. "Put a silencing ward on the wagon. I don't want to listen to that' nonsense. " Though there was something slightly familiar about the accent and voice she brushed it aside in her mind. She had heard enough pleading, bribing, threats and curses from past captives to last her a lifetime and she certainly had no patience for it today. — The elf moved ahead and did as she was instructed. Glancing toward the horizon the gargoyle estimated that it would be at least another hour before the sun sunk low enough for her to start removing layers. She huffed a quiet curse in reference to the long length of summer days as she led her mount to a large oak and tethered the reigns to a sturdy branch. She gave the aging drog several affectionate pats on the shoulder then moved around its rear, stepped over its tail and approached the prisoner's carriage. She stood for a moment near the front of the wagon inspecting the neck yoke and falling then moved to check the break box as well as the wheels and spokes. She noted that the cart was riding a bit low on the axle but determined it was sound enough to begin the long trek back. The load was heavy and she knew repairs would be required sooner than later. Thienous, she decided, would be worth the half-day detour, as she had connections there that would assist without hassle and charge a fair price. Stepping back into the shade of the tree she took several seconds to survey the clearing, unintentionally having moved just out of view of the prisoner. She rubbed at the back of her neck with one hand as she tugged the veil masking her face down below her chin with the other. She drew in a deep breath; the fresh air a slight tingle on her bare, pale green skin. The gargess walked back toward her mount and began removing the load from its back, addressing the group as she worked. "Unburden the mounts and take rest. We move out at midnight." After the canopy was folded, the supports along with the saddle were carefully set aside, she set to gently raking her claws over the creature's thick, bumpy hide. With a long, drawn out groan of delight and a blast of air blown from its nostrils, the beast's knees seemed to weaken as it shuddered with pleasure and closed its slit-pupil eyes. The gargoyle spent several minutes on each side then gave the beast a final pat near the withers. Nodding toward the brothers, "Gulren, Glahmin, take first watch." Her attention then shifted to the drow, 'stay near the cart with the prisoner. Give him bread and water but do not converse with him. Refresh the ward as needed; I don't want to hear anything from the inside of that box." After tying off the horses and removing their gear, the half-orc twins set out in opposite directions, not a word from either of them. In the time that she had known them the gargoyle couldn't recall having heard more than a dozen words between them, which was fine by her. It was difficult, but the elf managed to hold her tongue, avoid displaying a full sneer and respond with just a nod. She then set to work removing the saddle and halter from her mount, allowing the lizard roam free. It lingered near its master for several minutes then ambled out of the clearing. The gargoyle was aware that the magic wielder held enough control over the beast that it came when called, but her concern was the fact that it held a strong dislike for U"jin. For now she would watch, but if it made any moves she deemed as wrong, she would personally drive a dagger though its skull, and the elf could walk. The centaur eyed the creature wearily as it passed him by, his main hand hovering just above the hilt of a sword he kept sheathed across his equine shoulders and strapped around his girth. It seemed that as long as the beast was in his line of sight it made no aggressive moves, but he still wisely didn't trust it. Once the lizard was out of the vicinity he made his way toward the shady oak tree where the gargoyle was settling down against the trunk. After adjusting for her long, thick tail, she rested her head back against the bark and closed her eyes, not minding the imp as it scurried into her lap. Dryly and without cracking an eye to look at him "what is it, U"jin?" After unshouldering his bow, he leaned it against the side of the tree next to her along with his quiver. His sword, he decided, was best kept where it was. At his waist, where his buckskin colored hide thinned and tanned skin began, he fidgeted with a leather thong that secured a distended waterskin. "There is a stream northeast of here," he said, pointing in the direction where the elf's mount had gone, then offered her the skin. "Once the light dims I will take the horses, and your...?" he said, gesturing toward the long, large reptilian creature tethered to the opposite side of the tree. "Drogmor," she replied, opening her eyes and peering up at him as she took the water bag, nodding her thanks before taking a long pull. A strand of his dark, wavy, shoulder length hair came loose from behind his ear and wisped across his face. His jaw covered in week-old scruff, nose and cheeks smudged with dirt and sweat, he smiled in response to her appreciation. The twinkle in his dark eyes did not escape her notice but she completely ignored it. She considered herself too old to deal with such drivel. She might enjoy a look or two but that was as far as she cared to venture. He cleared his throat and shifted slightly while gesturing over his shoulder with a thumb toward the wheeled cell. "What do you suppose he did to warrant such a high bounty?" She shrugged, pausing a moment before responding. "The usual I suppose. Thievery' Murder" I don't care?" she grunted, "nor should you." Squinting her good eye, she watched him for a moment then took another deep drink. She then jabbed at the the lump in her lap. The imp had already fallen asleep and had begun snoring. She squirmed when prodded then yawned wide, exposing two rows of wicked, sharp teeth. The gargoyle handed the skin back to U"jin then cupped her hands together, expecting him to understand without her saying. He quickly caught on and poured about a pints worth of water into the makeshift cup which she then lowered for the imp. The horse-man watched as the imp lapped at the water from the small puddle and considered the bond between the two of them. He also wondered how it was that the gargoyle was awake during the day. Her race may be rare in this age but he knew the lore of her kind and had many questions regarding where she came from, as well as several others that were a bit more personal. The trouble was, he also knew that this gargoyle in particular wasn't much for conversation, so for now he believed it best to keep his questions to himself.

Drune

Date: 2016-07-03 01:43 EST
Drune was getting restless. He was no stranger to waiting patiently, shackled. The past month had been spent in chains. And many years prior spent sailing and plundering the coast, which required a considerable amount of waiting in small cabins. But he was ready for a change.

Bounty hunters, he discovered, were tricky. Your regular jailer, he was just working a job. Often a small paying job, and was easily swayed with the promise of coin. Drune was good at getting coin. Monasteries and small villages were rife with them, and he was practically a siege engine and raiding party all to himself. Jailers just wanted to go home with a bit of jangle in their pocket. And if they couldn't be swayed....not many chains could hold the massive minotaur for long.

Bounty hunters, however, often lived by their reputation. Few hunters lasted long after being bribed; word traveled fast. So Drune figured he wouldn't be able to bribe his way out of this one.

His new captors were taking precautions. Drune was never great at counting, but there were more out there than he had fingers on his hand.

And such a menagerie! Dark-skinned elves, a horse man, greenskins. He hadn't seen greenskins in well over a decade. And the one that led them, he peered over his shoulders from his cage. Muscles strained and chains clanked tight as he tried to get a better view. Pale green skin, clearly giving orders, just out of sight.

"Oy! Let's get on with this, aye?" He snorted. His voice, normally bellowing, echoed back at him, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up.

A sodding magic ward.

He scowled and shrugged against the cage. The one in charge turned away. But he caught a glimpse of tiny bat wings, and a distinct flash of needle teeth.

No, was it' It couldn't have been. The imp he knew couldn't hunt bounties, right' He didn't think she even knew how to spend coin; last he knew she collected coins because they were shiny.

But still. It was familiar.

"Imp, oy imp!" he bellowed, though ineffectively against the ward. He tried his best to wave his arms around, which didn't do much good with the shackles. "Lookit over 'ere!"

Dire

Date: 2016-07-14 14:29 EST
As night fell the brothers were returning from their patrol. The gargess, who was just stirring from a nap, nodded to them as they plodded back into camp, one with a spring buck slung over his shoulder. U"jin was delivering another armload of wood to a small pile near a stump where Xil"lith had dug a pit and was stirring a healthy sized fire. Rising from her seat beneath the tree, the gargoyle dusted her backside then began removing the protective articles of clothing. The gloves were pulled free and tossed aside, foot drapes untied, cloak unfastened, head scarf removed. Last to go was the shirt which she artfully twisted out of without removing the bodice. All the pieces were then neatly folded and placed in a pack, from which she withdrew a small bottle of greenish colored liquid. She took a quick swig then stuffed it back into the nest of cushiony clothing. From another pack she removed the rabbit the imp had killed earlier and tossed it to its owner who had been squatting atop the stump whittling a length of willow with a small knife. She caught the rodent with a gleeful grin and quickly set to work gutting and skinning the corpse, using the same knife with which she had stripped the stick and carved one end to a point. Once she was finish the meat was roughly skewered then propped against a rock so that it hung over the fire. Squatting next to the pit with her hands on her knees, the imp intently starred at the rabbit-roast for several moments as though willing it so the meat would cook quickly. She quickly grew impatient though and began pacing. Meanwhile, the gargess was taking a moment to appreciate the comfort of the cool night air. Fingers buried claws-deep in stark white tresses she gave herself a good scratching then raked through the gnarled mess to loosen the tangles. Wing muscles activated to unfurl the massive sails from her shoulders, bringing them up and out in multiple wide-reaching arcs. Legs flex, arms stretching overhead, she began to yawn but stopped short, interrupted when she caught a whiff of four-day-old sweat. — The reminder of how overdue for a bath she was almost a physical slap in the face! Fanning them several times more before gently settling the leathery extensions against her back she paced passed the others in camp. She studied the breeze by smell and by taste. She glanced in each direction of the deserted cross-road, her keen vision much sharper in darkness detected no movement. Her sensitive ears alert to no sounds other than cricket song, the crackle of the fire and quiet goings-about of her crew. Back at the oak, she rifled through her belongings again and produced a bar of soap which she kept wrapped in a piece of waxed parchment. She tucked it into a belt pouch then turned to the others. Gulren had already strung the buck up in a tree and was running a skinning knife over a whetstone; Glahmin was preparing a rub with salt and spices after having put the roasting spit together. Xil"lith was explaining the fundamentals of magic to U"jin while the imp continued patrolling a short path that took her between the centaur's hooves, under the wagon cell and back around the fire pit, all the while never taking her eyes off her dinner. The group knew the drill; the night was a gargoyle's time therefore she needn't say anything before her departure. With a running start and a single bound, she leapt atop the mobile cell and from there launched herself into the dimming sky. It was a maneuver that resulted in a loud *THUD* and caused the wagon to rock on its ridged axel. Once airborne she spread her wings to their fullest extent and pushed hard against the still air to gain altitude. She circled above the camp twice more than she had initially planned, just to be sure. Her vision cast far in search of camp fires, then near for any signs of a scout. Neither eye nor nose detected more than the typical nocturnal forest life and the distant lights of the city. Upon the next pass she searched the stream until she found a pool of water that appeared deep enough for bathing and came in for a smooth, silent landing near the pebbly shore. She quickly undressed; leaving her leathers draped over a boulder; she waded thigh deep into the slow moving rivulet and took a seat, soap in hand. No matter how quickly she intended to bathe it always took time to work lather into her long, thick hair, remove the black paint from the bridge of her nose and around her eyes, reach all the folds of her wings and of course scrub everywhere else. When she finished she completely immersed herself for a final rinse then made her way back to shore. Despite how much she wanted to stay and enjoy the water and solitude she knew she couldn't afford any more time. She needed to take back to the air soon, which she routinely did about every half hour. Besides, by now the venison would be on the fire and her belly was beginning to complain. As she returned to the boulder where she'd left her clothes she wrung water from her hair. It only took a few flaps of her wings and the dry summer heat to wick moisture from her body. The soap wrapped back in its parchment, she quickly dressed and began walking back toward the camp. About three steps into the trek was when she saw him. Under a tree about twenty or so paces from her bath site stood U"jin. His thick arms crossed over his bulky chest, a satisfied smirk on his face. The gargess continued her course but paused briefly before him; eyes narrow, lips tight. She was vexed with the fact that he had gotten so close without her notice more than anything else. As she fell back into stride she snorted back at him, "thankfully, centaurs cannot see well in the dark." He chuckled quietly as he fell in behind her, "we can see well enough." The smell of cooking meat met them before they broke cover into the clearing, the aroma making her stomach grumble. Without turning toward him, "Since you can see so well in the dim you shouldn't mind making a few rounds of patrol." "Not at all, milady' he said, amusement still evident in his voice. He sped his pace and moved passed her, his upper half slightly bent forward in a bow as he did. The urged to quirt him across the rear with her tail -hard enough to raise a welt- came to mind, yet, she resisted. Best to continue ignoring his advances than to acknowledge them, she decided. Once his bow and quiver were retrieved he set out to make his rounds. Shortly after he trotted out of sight the gargess made her way to the stump near the wagon and settled herself upon it. She watched the flames in the pit for several moments, contemplating, then cast her gaze toward the cell's window; a flicker of unusual movement having caught her eye.

Drune

Date: 2016-07-15 17:17 EST
The minotaur sneezed. A great battleship of a sound that just kind of bounced around the magical ward.

Magic had a way of making his nose and eyes itch.

And he was thirsty. His new caravan had made camp, casting long shadows and rendering the figures as silhouettes. The smell of cooked meat wafted his way, and he grumbled. Another great battleship of a sound. But he was able to push that feeling down. Sailing and plundering on length, eating little more than dried scraps of venison and stale bread, had trained his stomach to control itself well.

Drune imagined they had ale. Most bounty hunters he knew carried at least a few skins.

He glanced at his shackles, the polished metal catching a bit of flame light here and there. Not yet, he thought to himself. He was still curious.

The minotaur slumped back down and leaned against the wall. One suitable rock left. He tossed the small stone in his massive palm one time and nestled it between his thumb and forefinger. And with his tongue hanging out to the side in concentration, he aimed out towards the forest-side barred window and let it fly. And fly it did, straight and true and with great velocity from fingers that could crush cement.

"Sixteen! Sixte-" The stone clanged off the center bar and pinged right back at him, nailing Drune square between the eyes. He howled, a mix of pain and surprise, and the stone bounced off his rather hard head and back out the other window, towards the fire. It landed next to the troupe of hunters, still spinning in the dirt.

Dire

Date: 2016-07-16 23:50 EST
Hunger and boredom, quite often a dangerous combination where an imp is concerned. — This imp in particular, though a vicious little killer that didn't mind the taste of blood, did not care for the texture of raw meat. It was a preference not common among her kind but rather a fondness that had evolved over time. That being the case, she'd have to wait a little while longer, but it was becoming more and more difficult. She grabbed at her ears and tugged, then pulled them down and over her eyes in a dramatic display of frustration. Usually, treats of dehydrated meats, fruits, berries, nuts and seeds, pilfered from the personal stores of others in the party, kept her from becoming so famished. But now, after more than a week on the road, stores were running low. She irritably huffed and scowled around the camp looking for something to occupy her mind to keep it off her gurgling gut. Her nose twitched and wrinkled when she observed Glahmin seasoning the deer meat with the dry rub. "Dumb-dumb orc," she thought, "they always ruinin" foods!" She visibly shuddered with disgust and turned her back to the fire so that she no longer had to watch the absurdity and resumed pacing. This was a prime example of why she preferred to catch her own meat rather than dine with the rest of the group. All that "taste" was just too much stimuli for her simple senses. Her thought process and reasoning skills parallel that of a child; inherently influenced by impulsivity and primate-like behavior. Despite having the ability to communicate via spoken language she did not understand many of the complex concepts of the more evolved mind. Unfortunately, said complex-thinkers were the majority among present company and they were unable to converse with her, aside from one.

She and the gargoyle had been together more years than the imp could count. They understood one another in ways that no one else could comprehend. Using facial expressions, hand gestures and grunts, the two could carry on a conversation among a crowd and no one would be the wiser. Their unique form of communication had developed over the past several years, after the imp had been caught red-handed stealing from a purse. Ordinarily she was a sly little thief that could lift small items from one's person and not be detected, but on one fateful day her sticky mitts weren't so nimble. In the past, on those rare occasions when she had been suspected, the gargoyle repaid the debts of her kleptomania with coin to avoid unwanted attention. But on that day, a swift strike of the gargoyle's blade severed the throttling hand, and the poor bastard never got his silver back.

When the imp spotted the gargoyle returning to camp she scurried back toward the fire and motioned with both hands toward the rabbit kabob then toward the heavens, along with a few other impish expressions, "Uuuuugh! This is taking forevers!" The gargess gave her a slight shrug and small hand gesture while drawing back one corner of her mouth, "what do you expect me to do about it?" The imp dropped back to all-fours and gave an exasperated stamp of a hind foot before once again resuming her pacing. Back and forth, back and forth' then something caught her eye. The tiniest flicker" Something was responding to the licking of the fire's flames and calling to her compulsion for small, shiny things. Inky black eyes grew wide and, as if entranced, and in slowed motion, she reared on her hind legs and walked upright, bow-legged ape-style, toward the source of the reflection. At Xil"lith's waist, in an otter skin pouch that was usually kept tightly tied closed, something was beckoning. The drow was busy prodding the coals and hadn't noticed the imp's approach. The crafty little pickpocket had managed to unfasten the pouch and sink a paw inside by the time the gargoyle had spotted her. "Iddy!" Xil"lith instinctively grabbed at her pouch, then at the imp. "You little shyte!" Iddy snatched back her limb and skittered under the wagon and behind a wheel, out of sight. A blue glow began emitting from the dark elf's palms as she sprang to her feet, then her eyes shifted toward the gargoyle. The gargess calmly stared back at her. She said nothing, nor did she offer up any apologetic gestures. The drow settled back into a crouch, scowling hard in the imp's general direction while muttering several unpleasantries in her native tongue. Gulren and Glahmin, now seated back to back had been dozing, but both stirred to double check the security of their own hip pouches. Without even looking they knew what had transpired. It was quite apparent that Iddy's shenanigans were nothing new to the group. After several minutes Iddy slowly came skulking out of her hiding place and plopped down at the base of the stump at the gargoyle's feet. Head hung, she sighed and stared dejectedly into the fire. The drow, now having settled her temper, glanced up at the imp. She momentarily closed her eyes and shook her head as if in disbelief about what she would do next. Lifting one hand out in front of her, palm directed toward the pit, she coaxed the flames toward the skewered rabbit. With a slow, graceful wavering of her wrist and fingers she encouraged them to intensify. Small blazes turned shades of blue and purple and within seconds the carcass was charred and sizzling. When she was finished she nodded toward the imp. "There. Perhaps that will keep you out of mischief for a while." Iddy wasted no time. She grabbed her dinner by the stick then flitted up to the top of the wagon. She tossed it from paw to paw before finally dropping it on the roof in front of her to cool. The gargoyle had watched Xil"lith work and was watching her still after the imp had moved away. When the drow noticed her gaze she gave a dismissive shrug then sent her eyes back toward the fire. "I had children once," she said, as if that explained it all. After Iddy had eaten her fill she sat back on her rump with a hind leg up similar to a bathing cat. She held her "foot' with both paw-like hands and was using a toe-claw to pick at her teeth. She had scarfed down only a quarter of the rabbit, the rest she planned to save for later, and now she was ready for some sleep. She curled herself near the edge of the cart where she could oversee the fire and those below. With slow, heavy blinks of her eyes, she lay very still watching a moth circle above the flames. Her initial instinct was to give chase, but she was full, and she was tired. Just as her eyes were about to slide closed movement from below snared her attention. It moved faster than the moth, made a soft thud and stirred up a puff of dust when it hit the ground. Within an instant she leapt off the edge and landed atop the spinning stone, cupping her paws over it as if catching a bug. A few moments went by before she dared a peek at the" "rock?" Initially confused, she picked the stone up and turned it over in her palm. She sniffed and licked it, then licked it again. Ears perked, eyes went wide, she looked up to see where it could have come from. It dawned on her fairly quickly and she flitted up to the barred cell window and peered inside. Black and shadow was all she could see, and smell that very familiar smell. She hesitated a moment then tossed the pebble back in through the window.

Drune

Date: 2016-07-17 23:01 EST
A stone, somewhat familiar and suddenly recognized as the exact one he had bounced out of the cage off his head, trinkled back into his cell and bounced off his snout.

A huge eye, massive, at least, to the imp, popped up behind the bars and narrowed on the miniature creature.

Drune recognized the beast.

A series of lightning impulses lit up from the older recesses of his brain. The kind of recesses that were normally grown over with sagging trees and lazy moss and ended at a pub at the end of the road.

Drune's mental form (many, many years younger and much handsomer) strolled down his mind's road and found his mind's pub, hidden for years. It was a pub that held many old friends, and often old enemies. In that mental pub he found a name for the creature.

"Iddy!" he bellowed. But a lot of good that did, silenced behind the magical ward. He stuck his snout through and his nostrils flared and exhaled deeply.

Drune glanced around and then jangled his shackles, doing his best to reflect the light off the metal. He recalled Iddy liked shiny things.

"Iddy!" he bellowed once more. "Iddy i's me! Look, shiny!" He held up his shackled, shiny hands as best he could.

"Get the lock, lass. Look how shiny that lock be."

Dire

Date: 2016-07-23 07:05 EST
...

Iddy Imp

Date: 2016-07-23 17:33 EST
Initially startled by the appearance of the massive eye, her hovering flight faltered and she almost fell to the ground. She quickly regained control and flitted back up to the window. Tiny paw-like hands gripping the bars, she landed on the sill and poked her head between two of the railings. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darker environment of the cell but when they did it confirmed what her sense of smell and memory had been screaming about. Jumping up and down, a grin spread wide across her face, she wheezed several high-pitched squeals. She then passed the rest of the way through the barred window and into the cell to leap onto the minotaur's shoulder. Like a squirrel on a tree, she scurried excitedly over his shoulders and head, far too ecstatic still to recognize his peril. She continued moving from one side to the other, licking his face, hugging his snout and gently kneading paw-fulls of his fur.

Drune

Date: 2016-07-30 16:50 EST
"Oy, tiny friend," bellowed the minotaur. There was no mistaking the small creature now. Razor sharp claws tore up small tufts of fur and left tiny trails of blood across his muzzle and shoulders and arms.

"Aye," Drune tried to follow the movements of the imp scurrying around his hair and beard. "I know...good to see....aye, just hold still."

Drune peered out the bars. Iddy, though formidable and wily in her own right, probably wouldn't be traveling with a merc crew on her own. That meant she either gained enough sentience to hire her own mercs, or...

"Dire."

Drune jangled his shackles and did his best to reflect the light off the metal.

"Look, shiny! Get the shiny!" Maybe her tiny claws could shred through the inner-workings of the lock, was that how lock picking worked?. When faced with locked barriers he usually just kicked them down.

Or he had a better idea. "Go get Dire, wee one. Go get 'er!" Could Iddy understand him' He had fought and traveled with the creature for years and was still not sure if the imp understood him.

"And ale, bring back some ale."

Iddy Imp

Date: 2016-07-31 23:13 EST
Iddy had always loved Drune. In a world of "complex thinkers" the bull, like Dire, had always taken patience with her where others did not. Considered vermin and pests, few took the time to get on friendly terms with an imp so they were often misunderstood. Most are simple minded creatures, Iddy being no exception, however she had been taught to understand (for the most part) common tongue and can also follow slow-spoken orc. She could speak at one time, but damage to her larynx had stolen that ability years ago.

Iddy purred as she squirmed her way under his chin and nuzzled his beard. Most similarly resembling a hairless cat with wings, many of her behaviors bordered that of said species. She rubbed her whiskered upper lip against the sides of his face, leaving behind a scent so faint it likely wouldn't be detected by anyone other than another imp.

Due to her excitement, his predicament hadn't registered until he brought her attention to his shackles. Tilting her head, nose twitching, she peered down at the metal bindings. Although they did have some glint of shine to them, they weren't anything she could fit into her mouth and steal. But she did understand now that he was bound against his will. She scurried down his arm and crouched on his wrist whilst inspecting the hinged manacles. She fidgeted with the lock, yanked and tugged it this way and that, she even tried biting it, but to no avail. In truth, she had no clue how to open a lock and she was powerless against metal, but that fact hadn't occurred to her yet. With both hind paws planted firmly against his forearm, she wedged both raccoon-like hands under one of the metal cuffs and gave a mighty tug. She strained hard, knowing they were removable, but obviously, could not get them to budge" Then, she heard him suggest getting Dire. "Ah, yes, yes! The gargie would know what to dos!!,? she thought. She scrambled back up his arm and placed both paws reassuringly on his jaw, then hopped from his shoulder and back onto the window sill. She passed through the bars then jumped, and with two flaps of her wings she had cleared the fire below and landed roughly, clingingly, on the gargoyle's head.

Dire

Date: 2016-08-08 00:27 EST
Iddy was trying to turn Dire's head in the direction of the cell but their size differences and the imp's over-excitement only resulted in an unrecognizable spastic fit. "Id" wha' Iddy!" The gargoyle grabbed at the imp and was able to get a hold of a hind leg, and with some doing, she pulled the overly-animated creature off her head. Holding the imp out in front of her, upside down and dangling by one leg, the imp continued to twist and writhe. The gargess smoothed her damp hair back out of her face and dabbed at the stinging scratch on her cheek. "What in the blazes is wrong with you!?" she demanded. Of course there came no spoken reply but Iddy was waving her thin little arms and attempting to gesture toward the cell. High pitched squeals were all she could manage as she desperately tried to communicate a very important message. "Calm. Down." Dire growled, her voice hard and commanding. Iddy then ceased all struggle and went completely limp. Hanging almost lifeless, panting hard, she stared pleadingly at the gargess. If only she could say it. Several moments went by before hysterics gripped her once more, and as it so happened, the gargess had loosened her grip. Iddy was able to slip free but she had not planned any further than that. She fell uncontrollably and hit the ground in a crumpled heap. Winded and quite dazed, the imp struggled back to her feet and gave her head an ear-flapping shake. She swayed in place for a moment then staggered sideways on all fours, heading back around the fire pit toward the cell. To more rapidly cover the last few feet she decided to leap and attempt to fly back up to the sill, but it was much too soon. She missed the window completely and hit the side-wall of the carriage. Back to the ground she went, this time too stunned to get back up. Dire shot to her feet and quickly made her way to the imp, Xil"lith and the orc brothers looked on over the commotion. The gargoyle scooped the imp out of the dirt and cradled her in the crook of one arm "Iddy"....You act as if you have seen a ghost. What is it?" The imp responded with a slow blink of her eyes and lethargically lifted a paw, again trying to gesture toward the cell while making a raspy "Ooooo' sound. Dire glanced from the imp to the cell window, understanding beginning to emerge. She stood then and leaned closer to the carriage window to peer inside. Sight fit for darkness easily cut through shadow to make out the profile of a male minotaur, but a dusty memory and sheer disbelief caused her pause. She eased back from the cell, brows knitted tight as she turned the possibility and incredible odds over in her mind. Sea-going bovine were well known to her, and she was aware that this prisoner was a minotaur, but she had not thought to ask for a name. The cell had been where it was supposed to be and it had been marked with a notice of retrieval. There never was reason to ask for a name, or so she thought. She looked down at Iddy then back in through the window. With an absent wave of her free hand she motioned in the general direction of the drow caster, 'drop the ward." The elf got to her feet but hesitated to carry out the command, her expression questioning. Dire turned a wicked glare on her, angered-impatience momentarily setting her eyes aglow. "Now, Xil"lith!" As instructed, Xil"lith complied and the magical sound barrier dissipated in a glittering puff of purplish mist. Dire was fairly certain, but still her cautious nature was screaming with skepticism. She had not dared to hope for anything, allow herself to miss friends or feel in a very long time, so it was with great difficulty that she managed to ignore the blaring alarms of probable disappointment. Realizing that she had been holding her breath she released the mounding tension with a single, emotion-etched word. "Drune??

Drune

Date: 2016-08-08 13:58 EST
The hair on the back of his neck settled, and he no longer had the constant urge to sneeze. The barrier had been dropped.

"Drune?"

Dire was met with dark silence. But then a huge eye and snout shot up and filled most of the barred window, a wicked horn shooting through the cage.

"Oy! You!" He snorted a blast of air. He narrowed his eye at her presumably stunned silence. "It's me, Drune! See?" He did his best to wave but succeeded only in rattling his chains. Dire hadn't changed much to Drune's delight. Did gargoyles age" The minotaur idly stroked the steaks of silver in his beard, somewhat shyly. It had been close to......fifteen years" Drune had a surprisingly good memory and a talent at tracking time; years plundering at sea would do that.

They had conquered nations and slew entire armies together. If anybody was to collect on his bounty, he was proud it was her.

He eyed the entourage behind her, narrowing on the Drow.

"Interestin' lot ya run with nowadays, eh?"

Dire

Date: 2016-08-18 21:45 EST
Dire peered over her shoulder and followed Drune's line of sight. She observed Xil"lith standing several paces behind her. "Indeed?" Returning her gaze to the minotaur. "It could be worse," she grunted, "I could be shackled and on my way to a slow, painful and humiliating death." At that, a grin swept across her face making the age lines around her eyes and mouth more apparent. Comparatively, she appeared close in age to a human in their fourth decade. No, not much about her had changed, though softer, more feminine curves had replaced the straps of sinewy muscle of her youth and she sported at least a dozen new scars since the last time he saw her, including a disfiguring notched of missing flesh that marred her right deltoid. Her locks were the same shade of silvery-white, but she kept them cropped shorter than she used to. She grasped one of the heavy metal rods barring the window and gave it a couple of strength-testing tugs. The cell jolted in response to her test thus proving two things: Firstly, that it was a solidly built structure that was going to require brains over brawn to open, and secondly, that despite her age and some degree of atrophy, she still possessed the aptitude to heave boulders. Meanwhile, the brothers were up and moving about the camp and paying little mind to the exchange between Dire and the prisoner. One was checking on the roasting meat, the other was repacking some of their supplies. Xil"lith, however, appeared to be beside herself. "What are you doing?" the elf finally demanded, marching closer to the gargoyle then following her when she moved around to the front of the wagon. Dire's attention was trained on the wooden joints and metal fixtures that made up the door-frame, and although she had heard the elf she was too engrossed in thought to respond. Palming one of the four heavy padlocks securing the portal she tapped it with the tip of a thumb-claw. She noted that it, as well all other metal on the exterior of the rolling structure, were forged from ordinary iron, but it had a peculiar quality about it. Additionally, the lumber with which the carriage had been constructed, despite being of a completely different type of matter, had a similar peculiarity. She had never been overly fond of the magical arts, in fact she avoided it when possible, but she had been around long enough to know infused materials when she saw them. She knew that metals as well as some organic materials could be imbued via a magical process. And although it did not leave behind any lingering magical essence, it added incredible strength and durability. As per the contract, the prisoner was expected to be delivered as he was, "in the cage and covered in his own filth," if she recalled correctly, so she had not been issued any keys. Alive was preferable, but dead would still fetch a good deal of coin. It made sense now that she thought about it. Otherwise, she supposed, the bull would not still be trapped within. She had spent many years fighting along-side him and had a good feel for his capabilities. No ordinary human-made structure could hold him for long, but from the smells of things, he had been in this one a while. The more she thought about it the more impressed she became. The cost that must have gone into the construction of such a secure transport must have been" well, she could scarcely imagine riches of that quantity. That, combined with the price on his head, she suspected he must have crossed royalty. Her contract holder did not mention who the minotaur had offended, nor did she bother to inquire. As a bounty hunter, all that really mattered to her was the where, when and amount of the reward. The tale of how he landed himself in this mess was one she definitely wanted to hear. But first, she had to figure out a way to extract him from the cell. Xil"lith was becoming more agitated by the minute and it was taking quite an effort to contain herself. "Based on your exchange I take it you two know one another, but that does not change the circumstances. He-is-our-boun-ty." "Not anymore." the gargoyle stated without looking at the drow. She set Iddy down atop the stump near the fire pit then brushed passed the elf and made her way to where her gear was stacked against the trunk of the oak. After a moment of rummaging through her belongings she pulled open the fur-flapped bag she was looking for. Quite dissatisfied with Dire's response Xil"lith marched after her and briskly slapped the flap of the satchel closed, demanding the gargoyle's attention. "Does this mean the deal is off then"! That we," she said while motioning first to herself then the two brothers "came all this way for nothing"!" The gargess snarled and shoved her away, causing Xil"lith to fall onto her backside. Though she was unwavering on her decision, Xil?lith did have a point and she was not without honor. The gargess sighed and eased back into a crouch. She had been so caught up in the reunion with Drune that she had not thought beyond the instant of getting him out of the cage.

Dire

Date: 2016-08-27 22:51 EST
Dire sat silent for several moments pondering her dilemma then continued searching through the satchel. Once she had found what she was looking for, two liquid-filled crystalline vials and a scrap of fur, she palmed them then peered up at the Xil"lith. "I will buy out your contracts with me equal to the bounty as a dead-delivery." Leaving no pause for negotiation the gargoyle stood and strode back toward the prison carriage.

If looks could kill Dire would have keeled over where she stood. With a angry huff, the elf made an about-face and stomped out of the clearing, grumbling drow profanities as she went.

Back at the cell door Dire opened the vial containing a yellowish colored liquid then turned it up to drip some of its contents on each of the door's hinges. She waited for a moment, allowing the acid to seep deep into the grooves of the interlocking mechanism. Then with the clear fluid from the second vial she generously doused each one, respectively. The instant the two substances combined a faint sizzling began to emit and sputtered puffs of yellowish-orange smoke wafted upward in small plumes. As she watched the iron began to corrode and "melt' away, dripping in globules onto the dirt near her feet. She half smirked as she glanced down at the two bottles in her hand. Her alchemy skills had come in handy before but never quite like this. With her thumb she secured the glass stoppers of each then carefully placed the two vials into her belt pouch, wedging the small scrap of fur between them. Just then multiple flashes of blue light caught her attention; a series of four bolts of energy were sent skyward then exploded in a brilliant display of magical verve. The two brothers got to their feet as Dire took a step back from the cell door, all eyes directed toward the opposite end of the camp. Seconds later Xil"lith reappeared. At a determined pace she marched back into camp, passed the brothers and stopped at the stump near the fire pit. Rage still blazing in her eyes, an ominous glare targeted on Dire. "Dos usstan'sargh elg"caress!" Xil"lith spat. The gargess shifted to face the threat. Inclining her head and arching a brow, she stared right back at the drow but not the least bit intimidated. "You will have to translate for me; I do not speak spider-licker." The dark elf sneered at the slur and let loose with a bolt of azure energy. The gargess twisted to the side to avoid the strike. The magical lance struck the side of the prisoner's cell causing it to rock on its axle and resulted in a blast mark the size of her head. The gargess spared a glimpse over her shoulder at the singed wood then back at the elf, the glow of her eyes intensifying by the second. Claws flexed and readied to tear flesh, the gargess made to lunge at the magic wielder but stopped short. Xil"lith's had snatched up the still dazed imp and held her roughly by the wings and one arm. "Come one step closer and I will snap its neck!" Dire had no choice but to stand down.

Drune

Date: 2016-10-23 18:35 EST
Drune sneezed. Blue fire shuddered against his wagon, which set him off balance. His massive bulk careened into the other side, further off setting the wagon, and eventually, almost comically slow, caused it to tip over. Bovine ears perked; he heard a language he did not understand and though he could not make out the words, Dire's tone revealed all he needed to know - she was readying for a fight.

Battle!

It had been too long since he fought at his friend's side. Inner Drune stoked a fire, fed it, and raised it into a pyre. Younger Drune would have let the blaze get out of control, would have let the fire burn uncontrollably and would have charged head first, probably killing the captive Imp in the process. But older, more seasoned Inner Drune was more collected. The pyre was contained.

The weakened hinges had all but melted through, and the fall further weakened the wagon. The minotaur gathered his chains, secured to the floor that was now a wall, and pulled. Great shoulders and arms flexed to iron, legs that could lift a ship heaved tight. The titanium chains would not break, no matter his great strength. But the floor and axle they were secured to were not as strong. The caravan groaned and creaked until the floor wall finally broke.

Drune burst through the door. Wait, that wasn't accurate.

Drune burst through what used to be the door, holding the thing as a shield. Blue fire lanced against the reinforced caravan door shield and he leaped to the ground. The Imp's captor lost focus for only a moment, but Iddy lived in tiny moments. Razor sharp teeth and claws sliced through flesh and the creature made her escape.

Drune, huddled behind his siege-shield, heard gutteral orcish followed by a shout in what he assumed was Drow. When he looked over his shield, the mercs had fled. Dire flicked blood from her claws.

Drune

Date: 2016-10-23 18:42 EST
The pair shared a fish over a small fire. Chains rattled with every movement.

"So," muttered the Gargess over her fish. "What are you in for?"

"Ah, ya know," Drune replied finishing off the last of his aleskin. "Siege this town, sack that port, sink a flotilla. Rubs certain folks the wrong way I s'pose."

Dire didn't say much, just nodded and smirked. Drune figured she was still in shock. Of all the bounties in all the world after all the years, they had found one another again.

When night cleared away to dawn, Drune packed what he could scavenge from the fled bounty hunters. It wasn't much, but decades of pillaging, mostly on his own, meant he was accustomed to making do with very little. The duo went different ways; Dire told him she needed to clear some things up with her employers or the bounty hunters wouldn't stop.

Drune scoffed.

"Pah, let 'em come."

But she insisted.

"Find me in town," he said. "I'll need ta get these chains off." Drune looked at the titanium shackles. He wrapped the chains around his arm and made his way.