Bacon Macleod
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Runeblade Chapter 1: The Fall
🕑 Added 2024-09-29 06:30:01 +0000 UTCTrees blurred as Kaius sprinted through the forest.
He thought he heard crashing behind him. The bandits were on his tail. He’d easily had a league head start when he saw them on the top of a precarious ridge line. One of them had been pointing at him, a thick ropey scar on the man's face.
They’d closed the distance so fast.
A root caught his foot, sending him stumbling. A thrown out arm caught his fall, the bark of the oak digging in painfully. He had to get to Father.
They had a tracker. He knew it. Otherwise, he would have lost them. Even if they’d only just moved into this area of the forest, he’d lived in the Sea since he was a boy. He could cross it better than any village hunter he’d met.
There, up ahead. It was the elm with the strange split in its trunk. He’d pointed it out to his father a few days ago. He was almost there.
He pushed on, ignoring the way his heart slammed in his chest. How each breath felt like a knife blade on his throat.
He just had to get to Father.
….
Kaius came smashing through the underbrush, stumbling to a stop in front of their cooking fire. A pot of soup was bubbling away. Father looked up, green eyes wide in surprise. He wasn’t supposed to be back for another good hour or two.
“Kaius!” Hastur said, jumping to his feet. ”What’s wrong, boy? Are you alright?” he asked.
Kaius bent over, panting, as he struggled to get the words out. “Bandits! Right behind! Think they have a tracker!”
Hastur’s face went cold. He moved. Blurring into their tent. A moment later he was in front of him. Shoving his pack into his hands even as he shrugged on his armoured leather and chain jacket.
“Go!” he shouted, pointing in the opposite direction that Kaius had come running from.
“But-” Kaius tried to protest.
“Now! Fool boy!” he all but screamed, shoving Kaius. “This is what we prepared for! You know our legacy, you can merge the rest of the skills yourself! Go!”
Kaius felt the panic rising. He couldn’t leave. Father could handle them. He was only supposed to leave if there was no chance. They were only bandits.
“I-”
Hastur slapped him, the stinging mark bringing tears to his eyes.
“Go! If I don't find you, I’m already dead. Go!” Father shoved him again.
Reality collapsed. His father’s words sinking in. He had to leave. Kaius shrugged his pack on as fast as he could. He took a second to double check he had properly secured his sword. A heavy hand slapped on his shoulder.
“Fool boy.” His father looked him dead in the eye. “I love you. Now go!” The rough shove sent Kaius stumbling.
He went.
…
Hastur drew Art In Motion, the longsword gleaming as it caught the light. It was a masterwork, a strange blade with a section of diamond cutouts through its centre. A blade that no longer fit him, not as reduced as he was. He’d always been wary of giving it up. He’d made the thing after all. It would serve him well today.
They’d finally found him. Of course, it had to be today. A few short years and the boy would have been gone. Such was luck. The Lady had always had it out for him. For Unterstern.
They arrived.
Nearly thirty of them exited the underbrush, moving to surround the camp. He supposed he should feel flattered, sending that many for little old him.
One of them stepped forward, into the edge of the camp. Garbed in thick leathers that had seen better days, he was a tall and imposing man with a savage scar cutting down his face.
“Y’vesh, take Job and the archers. Go find the boy. Don’t kill him, just rough him up and scare the shit out of him. He’s needed alive.” The leader of the troupe said, his eyes never moving from Hastur’s own.
“Yes, sir.” A ratty figure fled, six men with long bows right at his tail.
Hastur lunged for them. The leader of the bandits tutted, moving to block him as the rest of them closed ranks. Hastur growled in fury.
“I don’t know what you want, harassing a hunter and his son like this. If you think us easy prey, I’m sorry to tell you, but you are sorely mistaken,” he spat. With a flicker of intent, he focused his True Sight on the leader.
??? - ??? - Level 157:
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Hastur grit his teeth. No common bandit had an anti-scrying skill that powerful, nor were they that level. They really had found him. Leather hand wraps creaked as his grip tightened on his sword.
“Come now, Hastur.” The man said, slowly circling the camp. Forcing him to move to keep him in sight. “Art In Motion is far too distinctive for that to work. You can drop the pretence.” His voice was gratingly smug.
“Hells.” Hastur swore. He knew he should have gotten rid of the fucking thing.
“I’ll admit, you’re a hard man to find.” The leader continued. “I had to search the whole of bloody Vaastivar for over a decade before I found a lead in Deadacre.” He smiled, sinister and bleak. “I guess that’s why I’m paid so much.”
“If you know who I am, then you know what I am capable of. I suggest you leave.” Hastur’s voice was flat. Hard.
“Maybe once, Hastur. Maybe once. But now? With your class shattered and your body ruined?” The man laughed. “I think you’ll find you are much more manageable. I’m honestly impressed you can even walk after you were poisoned. Soul Rend is nasty stuff, after all.” he said with a sneer.
Hastur spat at the bounty hunter, spittle flying to splatter against the man's trousers.
He looked down with disgust. “Now that’s just uncouth.” He looked back up. “Unbefitting of a Risen house of Locrua, don’t you think?”
“I tire of these games,” the man continued. “Teach me the method for acquiring the Unterstern legacy skills, and I'll let you and the boy go. On my honour as a professional. If you don’t? I’ll kill you and torture it out of your boy,” the man said icily.
“You can fucking try.” Hastur ground out.
He charged.
….
Branches whipped Kaius’s face, stinging tear tracked cheeks. The depraved men at his tail hooted and hollered. He heard a cry in the distance - was it his father, or one of the bandits? Kaius wanted to turn back. To stand his ground and help his father defend their camp!
He grit his teeth and ran faster.
Duty demanded his flight. Father had drilled him for this moment for years. The knowledge of their family’s legacy skills that they held was too valuable. One of them had to survive, to carry on the legacy.
His father should be fine. Even crippled, locked out from the use of his class skills, Hastur still had the tyranny of stats to lean on.
So he ran.
An arrow whistled past his head.
“That's it! Run boy!”
The ingrates were laughing at him! Taunting him as they leisurely kept pace. His head whipped back. He glimpsed a figure garbed in ratty leathers that could have been called quality a decade ago.
He might know the forest better than their best. It didn't matter. They had a class. He did not.
So he ran. Faster and harder than he ever had before.
*Ding! Physical Conditioning has reached Level 13*
Kaius ignored the notification, pumping his arms harder. His longsword thumped into his hip with every stride. He longed to draw it and turn on his pursuers. He was practically guaranteed to be the better swordsman: Warforged was his second legacy skill. Even if it was low level, its method of creation was a secret for a reason.
All the skill in the world would matter little against five full grown men, all of whom would be considerably stronger and faster than him. There was no way any one of them was under level fifty.
As the trees whipped by him, arrows consistently flew close enough for him to know they could have hit him - if only the archer wanted them to. Kaius heard the growing roar of a river.
“Shit,” he swore. He had forgotten about that. Too strong and swift for him to pass safely, it may as well have been a solid wall. The bandits certainly hadn't.
They’d been herding him.
He had no choice. He would hit the banks of the river soon. Already he could see the spray that was kicked off the rapids as it hit the light. He couldn't go left, the river quickly looped backwards which would lead him back to the majority of the bandit group’s forces. He would have to go right.
It might kill him, but that was better than the only other option available to him.
Planting his foot firmly on a tree root he pushed off. Kaius heard the muffled curse of one of his pursuers. They hadn’t expected that.
The roaring of the river grew louder, a cacophony that almost drowned out his pursuit.
Sunlight streamed through the trees, revealing the edge of the forest line as it retreated from the banks of the river.
Dipping and dodging, Kaius wove through the trunks, arrows hitting home with a thwack as they landed around him. The bandits had given up their pretences and were trying to hit him with real seriousness.
He burst onto the river bank and was confronted by a solid wall of mist and haze. Vision obscured, his only hint of his destination was a violent roar to his front.
Ahead of him the land fell away, a sharp demarcation delineating earth and sky like the ground had been cut free. The river howled as it shot straight over the cliff's edge. Kaius’s chest thumped as he grasped the enormity of what he was about to do. It was a steep drop.
He and his father moved camp regularly; they’d only arrived in this area of the Arboreal Sea a few days ago. Neither of them had managed to find a path to the base of the falls yet.
Even if it was free of rocks, the undertow created by a river of this size was more than enough to drown him.
His jaw clenched as he stared at the slice of sky, sprinting straight for the edge. Just a few more long-strides and he would make it.
“Job, take him down!”
A line of white fire shot through his left leg.
Bitter resistance surged through him, he only had one option.
Kaius threw himself forward.
Over the edge of the waterfall.
The forest stretched out below him, an endless mat of green. Vanishing over the horizon as the glistening snake of a river coursed its way through the wild terrain.
Then gravity reasserted itself.
Kaius let out a scream of terror as he plunged towards the watery depths below.
