By the Law of the Land
Twenty-Second Day of the Tenth Month 293 AC
As Ser Richard Lonmouth moved cautiously down the narrow escape tunnel he found himself envying the gold-scaled snake wizard in the fact that it did not have to duck the edges of crumbling archways and splintered girders. Up ahead the tiny light of their fey guide flickered like a firefly calling out cheerfully. "Come on, this way quick, didn't you hear that the Hunter in the Dark is looking for the spindle too? She'd lose it so bad you'll never be able to find it."
"I wonder how Dewchaser would take to being frozen to a wall," he heard Rina grumble under her breath. It looked like even her patience had its limits after all. Then again, she
had been the one chasing not just trinkets and rumors of trinkets all over the city. So far they had found a quill that could not write untruths, a girdle that allowed the wearer to dance to any dance no matter how complex, and now they were chasing a spindle that spun golden thread, the stuff of children's tales turned into deadly earnest.
"Not worth it, he'd probably complain twice as loudly
somehow," the knight replied, amused almost in spite of himself.
As the narrow tunnel turned a corner Oathkeeper's light shone piles of tumbled stones and dirt that barred their way. At its base a rotting arm, still sheathed in the tattered green of the palace livery, held out a small golden spindle.
"How very convenient," the naga hissed, drawing back from the sight. "Find the thief and the prize all at once, without even needing a shovel."
"It's an illusion," Rina said, her her gaze flashing with the cold silvery light of true sight. "A trap..."
Before she could say another word a black skeletal claw reached out from the wall to grasp Dewchaser in a cage of bone and shadow. "Very clever mortals,"
something snarled from the darkness as an emaciated demonic form slumped bonelessly in front of them. The thing was garbed in tattered skin that may have been wings, hanging upon bone ridges tipped in vicious bloodied claws. Its face was horned, four eyes like a dead man's lanterns set above a mouth with far too many teeth. This then was the Hunter in the Dark, the
monster other fey feared so deeply they spoke of it only in whispers.
"This little insect defies the Hooded Lord in seeking to bring together the tokens that fate itself has scattered," the creature continued, bringing the trembling sprite closer to its slavering mouth, snapping in anticipation.
"How so?" Rina asked sharply. "The tokens we gathered were offered to the archon of Lys, a title our King now holds. Call it fate, chance, or
trickery, but he has a right to them under the same pact by which the Goblin Market opens its doors."
"You do not seek to spin gold, to dance, or to write, do you?" the dark fey sneered. "No, you seek to twist and bind, to make the Market yours and the Hooded Lord your king's lackey, the old man told us. Rial, was it?" a long twisting tongue like a purple worm slithered though the thing's teeth. "He was most...
accommodating."
"What did you do to him?" if the sorceress' voice had been cold before than now it crackled like ice shattering on stone.
"Learned the truth of how you bribed and beguiled so many fey, they have all met their rightful fates also..." the thing hissed.
Richard was barely listening.
If I move now I might be able to cut off thing's the hand in time, but it might twitch closed anyway. If what they had heard about the Hunter was true than any fey who perished at its touch could only be restored by its lord's command.
Could that command be forced?
"You are one and we are three, not petty fey that you are used to punishing. Why choose to die at your master's command?" Rina tried to reason with the thing, but to no avail.
"You would bargain, yes?" a mirthless alien laugh slithered through the air. "A better bargain I offer then. Let me fulfill my task in peace upon the treacherous fey and then I will bring you to the Hooded Lord myself and intercede to make a better bargain, no need to chase trinkets, no need to work with giggling fools..." the skeletal fist tightened.
Rina looked back towards Richard, her own choice clear in her eyes, but she did not want to make a decision for all of them. The knight answered with his sword, diving forward Oathkeeper flashing in hand.
"Fuck!" he cursed as the sword cut only empty air. The thing had been ready for it.
At least the sprite was loose again and babbling thanks, if you could call that a good thing.
The knight sighed and tried to explain, "When King Viserys brought Lys under his rule he pledged that the same law would hold over it as the rest of the realm, and that goes for everyone that lives here. Those fey that got
punished didn't break the King's law, but this hunter and his lord sure as shit did, now let's go find this Hooded Lord."
"What of the spindle?" the serpent mage hissed.
"We don't need it now, this fey lord has some explanations to make to us and to the Harbinger," Rina said with chill satisfaction.
OOC: We are about 2-3 interludes from the end of this action. Hope it does not drag.
).
