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Okay then Dakka, I have over the last few days had a storm of ideas fill my head. So I had to put them down into text. At this point I do not know if this will be a one shot. In any regards happy reading

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The realms where ablaze with war and madness, for twenty long and bloody years had a bloody war of religion and the question of whom would set the standard for the ages to come when the last shot had been fired.
The war had begun when the assorted rulers and clergy men of the kingdoms and other realms had began to argue about witch version of the holy texts, and manuscripts issued by the church that was the one true version.
In the first weeks and months of the long war to come it had manifested into raids and reprisal raids committed by both sides. But soon the vast armies of the commonwealth of Thule, Sveariket and others had been locked in brutal battels where hundreds of men died in droves to musket fire and the thundering charges of cavalry and foot soldiers following in their wake.
In this age of war, religious oppression and superstition the common man seldom had any chance to improve his lot in life, but there where some individuals that sought to break free from the bonds of servitude and serfdom. And to pick up a sharp sword and to dress themselves in a new station in life.
Some of these became noting more than bandits and highway men, preying on the weak and helpless that where left when the great armies of kings and queens had ransacked their towns. Or taking advantage of those fleeing the madness that raged all across the north lands.
And then there where those whom took it upon themselves to uphold the word of the law, to bring justice to all manner of criminal vermin and to deliver punishment upon the guilty.
These grim faced and often much feared individuals swore their life and service to the one institution that had by some unforeseen miracle yet to fall, and that was the long arm of the law layed down by the various noble queens and kings.
In our tale we will follow once such soul, that have spent several long and gruelling years hunting down those whom seek to do harm and to sow mayhem as they go. He was a tall and imposing figure, his features showing that he had suffered grave wounds and hardship. His hair had begin to show hints of grey in his dark mane of hair. His eyes where devoid of any warmth.
His garments where simple yet well made, a long coat to keep the worst of the rain and cold at bay, at his hip hung a heavy sabre in a ornate scabbard, and a pair of pistols rested in their holsters hidden from sight under his coat. But the thing most people noticed where the long and slender long rifle that hung on the saddle of his horse, such a weapon was rare and would have brought a hefty sum of coin to anyone whom where willing to sell such a weapon.
His name where Sebastian Morgenstein, and he where a hunter of men, now as he passed this parade of misery he felt noting short of disgust, at least this was the feelings he allowed himself to show, what other things that perhaps simmered beneath his surface was a mystery to anyone but him.
He had grown up as the youngest of two brothers in a noble family that had resided in the north of Sveariket. But he had fallen out with his brother and after several years where the two brothers had exchanged noting but harsh words the young man had left home. And signed up for service for the king. During the years he spent under the kings colours he had displayed a very keen skill for horsemanship, and with both blade and ranged weapons. But once more his temperament and unwillingness had given him trouble, and he had left the service, taking his horse and weapons with him. In those years he served as a mercenary cavalry man and guard for hire.
But for the last fifteen years he had served as a hunter of human prey, his infamy and reputation of dark deeds made wanted men and women tremble with fear, and his willingness to take on any contract made him a man very few wished to be seen dealing with.

Rain hammered down as the procession of refugees filled along the road, with their possession carried on their backs and hauled in carts either pulled by beasts or burden. Or by the refuges themselves. The road was muddy and showed the signs of the constant flow of refugees from the last series of brutal battels fought near the now smoking remains of the once great city that lay behind them, and could barely be seen on the horizon.
The armies that had clashed outside that now ruined place had been those of the Thule confederation and those of the Aragonian kingdom. And it was the zealous and hate driven troops of the latter that had won, and in their desire to make their foes bleed even more they had set the city ablaze and out all those whom dwelled inside its wall to the sword when the gates where destroyed by a massive cannon barrage.
After that a day long orgy of blood and madness as the religious madmen let the heathens as they referred to their prey as feel their god given anger.
When it all fell silent macabre crosses decorated the ruined streets and courtyards of the once fair city, men, women and children hung there. Nailed up to “repent” for some perceived sins they must have committed in the eyes of their executioners.
Sebastian stuffed his pipe with the strong and expensive tobacco he smoked while he took shelter under a great oak tree, he produced a spark with his knife and soon a cloud of foul smelling tobacco hung around him. He stood there and let his thoughts wander as he smoked, with a sigh he wandered over to his trusty war horse and patted the animal on the neck as he took a bag of oats from the saddle bag and removed also a small leather casing. From that he took a roll of parchment and began to study the portrait of the man depicted on it.
It showed the face of a man with long hair, a face unmarked by war and suffering and a vile smirk on his face.
This particular trait made the man hunter take a long hard puff on his pipe before he spat on the wet ground.
“You are indeed a particular vile sort of vermin!” the ageing bounty hunter said as he knocked the last embers from his pipe before slipping it back into his coat. The man he hunted where wanted for countless gruesome acts of violence, blasphemy and other even less savoy affairs that involved anything from molesting a young girl to wholesale arson of a crowded inn.
The name of the man where Albert von Schoenberg, and as the name suggested he had once been of a noble, or at least aristocratic family.
The royal court had placed a very substantial price on the head of the fiend, and by the holy father he would claim that price. That he was sure of

He allowed his horse to finish eating before collecting the now empty feed bag and stowing it in the saddle back.
As he was doing this he heard footsteps in the wet grass behind him, and with the slightest of movement he gripped one of his pistols, and cocked the hammer on it.
He half expected it to be some would be highway man or some other fool with a death wish, but to his somewhat surprise he heard a trembling voice speak to him.
“I mean you no harm, I wont even beg for food. Just let me rest will you merciful sir?”

turning around with one hand on the hilt of his sabre, and the other holding his pistol he looked at the poor thing that had asked him that question.
There before him stood a stick thin figure, it was clearly a woman due to the cloths and her long wild and unkempt hair. She wore the ragged cloths of someone whom had grown up in the woods, maybe a daughter of a woodcutter or forester. Not that he particulary cared for those trivial facts either.
“If my eyes do not betray me it would appear that there is more than enough room for you to seek shelter here. Now what brings someone like yourself out into such dreary surroundings as this then?” he asked more out of a interest regarding any nearby surprises that could be in waiting for him.

“I have no where else to go, my kin folk are dead. And our home where put to the torch by raiders last week. And it has been pouring down all day” she said quietly and stumbled to the ground, clearly this one was weary to the bone. And well, raiders could make anyone run like a whipped horse he supposed. As he looked her over he heard the familiar panting of a dog, and then he saw it, standing beside the girl was a truly immense hound.
The beast had a dark grey wiry coat of very thick hair, and its half open maw displayed teeth was more than enough to make mice meat of anything short of a ox. It growled at him in a deep tone as it stood guard over the exhausted woman.
The face of the hound was marked by countless scars and marks and it was clear that this was a beast that did not hesitate to defend its pack with ruthless violence.
“My condolences then child, your hound and you seems a bit weary. Let it not be said that I allow such a pair to run around hungry and half dead from cold.” and in a act of extremely rare compassion he tossed one of the saddle bags down before her feet.
The girl did not move, she just fixed him with eyes wide from exhaustion, fear and maybe gratitude. But the hound took this as a act of hostility and and took one menacing step forwards while a rumble like thunder could be heard from its chest.
The eyes of man and beats meet, and for what seemed like a eternity both held the stare of the other. Almost daring the other to break it, then deciding the man was not out to harm his master the hound lowered its head and sniffed the bag, before its great maw opened and it seized it and deposited it at the feet of his master.
“eat girl, you will need it. Same for your beast there.” Sebastian said as he swung himself into the saddle and kicked his horse into motion.
As he did the girl seemed to come alive from her fatigue induced state of unawareness, and called after him.
“But my lord, whom should I thank for the food?”
Halting his horse he turned in the saddle and answerer her request.
“ You do not need to thank me, but if you insist my name is Sebastian Morgenstein” was the last words she heard before the grim and heavily armed man departed on his great war horse.
Left behind where a girl that felt cold dread grip her hearth, that name was a name all too well known to her. Her father and brother had spoken of that devil of a man, he whom hunted men and women for the sake of coin. And in the supposed spirit of justice.
Looking at her hound, that where busy devouring the part of the food she had given to him she asked the hound.
Meanwhile Sebastian was deep in thoughts as his horse carried him fourth on its iron shod hoofs over the muddy and untended roads that ran across southern Thule.
As he drew closer to a ford across a river he became aware of a number of mounted men, all gripping lances alongside other well used weapons milling about, seemingly looking for something. As they became aware of the approaching rider the men rallied and prepared to greet him.
Their leader was a battle scarred warrior whom gripped his lance in one hand while he held the reins of his horse in the other hand.
“Halt! Whom goes there?” he said as the solemn figure drew closer on his great war horse. To the eyes of this common mounted sergeant the man looked more like a vulture than a man, he also took note of the butt of the long rifle this man travelled with.

“Dismount and dispose of any weapons!” he barked to the man, and he did not even imagine getting a negative answer, but he did. All he got was a cold glare and a answer in a somewhat blurry voice, as if the man had suffered a wound to the throat.

“No, I do not feel like getting of my horse sergeant! I wonder whom is it you serve? For you do have a master do you not.....”

“Don’t give me any tongue you! Being cheeky towards the soldiers of Aragonia never pays....” the sergeant replied, secretly hoping the mention of the zealous warriors of the one truth would make this vulture obey him. But he signalled to his men to surround this one.
His band of dirty and ill tempered men did as they where told, disobedience never payed. That they knew all too well, their leader was a cruel man when his blood was up.

“Right then, since you are being oh so cooperative, what in the seven shades of sin are you doing around these parts of the world then? Or ain’t we fancy enough to warrant a answer” he continued.

Turing to glare daggers at the man Sebastian replied in his low voice.
“Ask nicely and you shall receive, do they not teach you that down in the south? And since you asked so kindly good man I shall answer you. I hunt vermin around here, since I heard the pickings would be good so to speak.”

“Vermin hunting eh? Sounds like good sport that. How is the pay for a vermin these days then eh?”
“Quite good indeed, provided I bring back a selected few parts to show I bagged the correct one that is.”
the sergeant and his men grinned at his comment, and a few of them passed rather distasteful remarks amongst themselves.
But it was clear to them all that this was a man that had not much in the way of emotions, of fear for the odd raiding party like them. Then one of them noticed the ornate silver rosette their unexpected guest wore on his coat.
The colour drained from the face of those whom knew what it stood for, and the sergeant when he saw it himself went wide eyed.
“We meant no offence, we have been hunting a wrenched heretic for days and my men and I are weary to the bone. “

“None taken at all my good man, but do enlighten me about this heretic hunt of yours?” Sebastian said and felt pleased to play the role, it was perhaps not such an bad idea to keep on to that piece of silver it seemed.
“Well we are looking for a young woman in the company of a great beast like hound, they worked in unholy unison to murder in the most heinous way a holy man! Further more the holy church suspects she is in fact a witch! Hence she must be found and put to trial!”
Still playing the role of the church servant that the rosette allowed him to play Sebastian bit back the urge to take his sabre, and hack his man limb from limb.

“I shall take heed then sergeant, if I may ask if its safe to proceed ahead? I am not keen on encountering hordes of unwashed heathens and witches alone as you may understand?”

“The road from here to a days ride from Nidaros is more or less clear, although I would take heed sire. One can never know what lurks in the woods!”

“Understood my good man, I will see to that you and your men are rewarded for your service to the church and crown. I wish you all a still good day and best of luck with your hunt,” he said and prodded his horse forwards. The men parted to allow the man to pass and several made the sign of the cross as he passed.
He reached the ford with his back to them, but his face was one of seething anger and dislike. Or more precise disgust that such people had the nerve to call anyone a heretic or a witch, when their own actions where more than enough to damn themselves to eternal torment in the afterlife.
As his horse waded across the river the clouds broke, and a pale cold light began to embrace the countryside around him. Clearly even the sun found the lands not worthy of much warmth he mused as he reached the other side.

The remainder of the day passed without anything noteworthy taking place. He passed farms, small hamlets and the odd gaggle of refugees.
Then he saw the towering walls of the place he was headed for, the imposing fortifications that where unbreakable by cannon or any other means where one of the things that had kept the armies of Argaonia away from this place.
Up on the battlements he could see the vague outlines of marksmen and cannon crews that kept watch over the approach to the city. Then there was the dour and iron willed army of the Thule confederation that guarded it, lead by the imposing figures of the Iron guard they opposed their enemies with cannon and cold steel at every chance they got.
As he drew closer he could smell the acrid smoke coming from the great metal smelting operations that lay hidden behind those very walls, with great plumes of smoke reaching for the sky as if they where the hands of the lord himself.
It struck him then how just inhuman the confederation of Thule could appear, if all one ever saw was one of their sprawling cities or their gloomy bastions.
But what made most people weary, and somewhat afraid of this union of small principalities and dukedoms where the way they had embraced science, progress and a almost crazed interest in anything new that their great minds cobbled together in their great workshops.
They also had at their disposal some of the best soldiers that walked the surface of the world, but they where not nearly enough of these troops to stem the huge numbers of Aragonians that had heeded the call to arms, not where they enough to deal with the armies that came down from the high north. But the armies of Sveariket seemed more intent on hammering the southerners and their vassals than dealing with the Thule confederation, for the time being that was at least.
And then as he sat on his horse before the great iron gate that was the single point of entry into the great bastion he found himself looked up and down by a score of heavily armed soldiers, each one clad in partial plate armour and gripping long shafted spears with wicked barbed hooks beneath razor sharp tip. Their faces obscured from sight by masks and the deep red hoods they wore over their heads. Behind them several gunners armed with flintlocks stood ready to act should the need arise. Their captain, whom had a ornate golden cog engraved on his chest plate asked in a emotionless tone.
“State your business within the walls of Nidaros! Know that any crimes is subject to the harshest of punishment should you wish to commit any while visiting the city.”

“I see you still don’t see the need to be overly concerned with the feelings of your gussets captain! I thought we two where friends, at least it seemed so the last time I saw you. “

it took a moment for the captain to recognize the man mounted upon the great horse, his hair had developed more grey. And a selection of small scars dotted his face. Apparently Sebastian had been busy in the last few years.

“No because as I recall it you left me with clearing up the mess you created when you decided to kill that fugitive, just outside the residence of the duke! But no hard feelings, you just own me around a hundred gold coins that is all.”

“ A hundred! By the lord almighty man, you have not grown soft I see.” Sebastian said as he reached for one of his coin purses and handed the sum over, he had not expected the man to forget. The memory of the iron guard was very good it seemed.
“ And to answer your question I come looking for a particulary nasty piece of work that was reported heading this way. I would very much like to put an end to his rather heinous spree of violence and rape if you do not mind.”

“I see... Well if this individual resides within these walls do find him and gut him like a fish! But just don’t do it in broad daylight and in a very crowded place. The population is restless and on edge since the damned southern animals keep on hitting the outlying farms, towns and hamlets.”
handing the captain a copy of the poster that showed the face of the deranged man Sebastian nodded in agreement, and swore to not cause any major incidents while he visited the city that lay sheltered between the two sets of great walls kept an eternal watch over the inner sanctum that belonged to the residing lord and his council of iron guard officers, priests and others than seemed to always take up so much room at the court of any noble of some importance.
As he rode into the city he instantly went into a different sort of mindset, his inner predatory self awoke and his senses seemed to spring into a totally different sort of setting. He knew that he would appear even less appealing to any one whom may have tried to try and hassle him as he passed vendors, tradesmen and those whom sold their own bodies in a attempt to make a coin or two.
A old man he had once said that it was like watching a beast, cursed to be eternally hungry for the spilling of blood and the death of men awake when this particular mood fell over him. And he had never denied that he took joy in his work, there was something deeply satisfying in watching wanted men and women squirm in agony before they died by his hands.
“Such is the nature of the beast” he muttered under his breath as he caught sight of the sign declaring a inn to be open for customers.
Steering his horse into the courtyard of the inn he looked about to see if any stable boys where to be seen, but he did not see any so he dismounted and took the reins of his horse and headed for the stable.
Well inside the small but well kept stable he saw no sign of anyone else than a few horses and a snoring dog.
Then after he had taken care of his animal and where literary on the front steps of the inn the door flew open and a man came hurdling out. The man landed with a thud and did not get up, jutting out from his rib cage where a large knife. And it was clear by the looks of things that this individual was dead, and from the sounds emitting from inside the dimly light tavern a bar brawl was under way.
“Murder in broad day light, and in such surroundings as this! What has the world come to” Sebastian said to no one in particular with a very clear tone of annoyance in his voice.

Cog emblems? an early family relation to the Mechanicum perhaps.

Well lable me a fan if this does continue. Thumbsup:

Interesting lead character. This could have potential!

As he pushed the heavy reinforced oak door open he caught his first glimpse of the ravages caused by the drunk patrons, whom had turned the inn into their own private field of battle.
He noticed that the innkeeper whom covered behind the bar counter alongside his serving staff. The still form of the former bouncer lay on the floor, and it seemed this man too had been struck with some form of weapon. Although he seemed to live for the moment at least.
He avoided a falling man and dodged a flying beer mug that smashed into the wall behind and shattering into a thousand pieces.
He felt his blood simmer and his whole body seemed to tense in utter disgust for such feral behaviour as these men displayed, but he had no intention of intervening just yet. Let them beat each other senseless for a few moments longer he mused as he walked up to the bar counter and peered down behind it, at the covering owner of this once peaceful establishment.
“Ah my good man, one beer or whatever available form of liquid refreshment you have on tap if you please.” he said and placed a few coins on the counter just as the sound of breaking glass could be heard behind him, as one man where hurled out of a glass window.
The frighted bar keeper just looked at this unnerving calm man whom had just ordered a beer while his tavern was demolish around his ears. Stuttering the man managed a reply to his customer.
“Are you mad man! You want a beer now? “
“Why yes I did ask for that did I not. Good to see your hearing is still sharp as ever. I dare say your clientèle has changed for the worse since I last was here.”

then it dawned for the man whom stood there looming overhead asking for service, he felt cold dread grip his guts as he remembered the carnage this fiend had unleashed last time he set foot in the city. And now he was back!
“Oh the lord protect me and mine! You can have as much beer as you want if you could help a defenceless inn keeper out Sebastian! But just don’t ruin the place while your at it!” he said in a quivering voice.
“The lord is best to turn a blind eye to this sorry mess” was the answer the man got as the bounty hunter turned to deal with the patrons still engaged in their tavern battle.

Sebastian drew his sabre and took a long step forwards, and then with a casual swipe he cut the ham strings of the man nearest to him, whom had his back turned to his new foe.
The man howled in pain and shock as he fell down hard on the wooden floor with a thud. This caught the attention of the rest of them.
The men turned to see the imposing figure of a man armed with a razor sharp sabre, that had just crippled one man and looked more than ready to hack any man foolish enough to take a step towards him.
But drunk men are seldom known for their good sense of judgement as the next victim proved all too well. He gripped a chair like a club and with a drunken curse swung at the stranger that had interrupted the jolly good time he had been having.
But his plan to strike the man with his improvised weapon was cut short when a deafening roar of thunder filled the common room, and the flash of gunpowder and the wet smack as the lead ball slammed into the skull of the man made everyone else dive for cover as a fine red mist filled the air and mixed with the drifting smoke from the smoking barrel of a ornate pistol.
As the body with the ruined skull slumped down the remainder of the patrons froze to the ground as this rather unnerving stranger stepped over his last victim while putting the pistol back into its holster.
“Now then! Anyone whom still wish to carry on with this destructive behaviour? Or do you all wish to leave alive before the guard arrives? If any of you have any coin left on your person I suggest dropping the purse said coins are kept in on the floor. think of it as repayment for the havoc you whore sons have caused here. And yes. I will kill any man whom remains inside this room later I have stopped counting!” the grim figure said as he began to count slowly as he drew a second pistol with two barrels and cocked the hammer on both barrels.
That alongside the moans of the man with the cut tendons provided the ones left standing, with plenty of motivation to depart as soon as they could. It was akin to a stamped of cattle fleeing from a hungry predator than a score of otherwise hard faced men fleeing from a lone man.
As they did so the clatter of coin could be heard on the dirty floor as some of them remembered the term stated by the sabre wielding fiend that had put one of them in grave, and damned another man to a life as a cripple.

As the rabble departed the scene Sebastian looked down on the man that was left. The man swore as the bounty hunter bent down over him, and gripped his chin with one gloved hand.
“Hmm I thought so, did I not kill your partner in sin last winter near Brandenburg?” he said with a cruel grin on his face.
“You bastard! You killed him in cold blood! What crimes had we done? The game we poached where of no real value to anyone but poor folks like us and our families!”
“I do not give a damn about your filthy mongrel spawn or kinsfolk! You broke the law set down by the duke! The price on your head justified anything I did do! And beside, as I see it now your days are over anyway. Beggars die fast in this town.”

“The devil take you you fiend!” was all the man managed to say as his jaw trembled and tears made their way down his chin. His foe rose back up and walked over to the dead man laying on the floor. The shot had stuck directly above the nose and made a horrid mess of what remained of the head.
Images flashed before his eyes of dead men, ruined cities and burning towns, of wailing women and grieving fathers whom mourned dead sons. As these ghostly imagines past before his eyes the bounty hunter rose back up with a distinct pale look on his face. He then realized the thing that had to be done, even if it made his stomach lurch with disgust.
The crippled man saw the devil walk back over and swore most foul and tried to drag himself away, as if to somehow escape the faith he knew was coming for him. Then as he managed to reach the door a second shot rang out, and a fiery pain blossomed in his back before it seemed like someone had drawn a sack over his head. A last gurgle of breath and the man lay silent and unmoving.
Sebastian stood there as if lost in some unseen place, his hands working by the force of habit, reloading his pistol, sheathing his sabre and finding his pipe. But inside he was in utter turmoil.
As he stood there locked in a almost self imposed purgatory the voice of the inn keeper reached his ears.
“Oh the lord have mercy upon us all! I knew this day would end poorly” the man said with a groan as the smell of gunpowder began to fade, and the scent of death began to fill the air.

The smell of strong pipe tobacco mingled with it, and as the bounty hunter had taken a few deep puffs of the pipe he set about his grim task at hand while the pale innkeeper sent one of his serving girls to summon the monks from the local church.
Sebastian dragged both of the dead men outside and with a practised set of hands began to sift trough their pockets for anything of interest or value or otherwise use to him.
But he found noting except a few pieces of copper, a few personal things and a few rings he pulled of the hands of the dead men and slid into his own deep pockets. Then came the thing he disliked the most, the last one to die was a wanted man, and due to that fact he needed to present a evidence of sorts to the local law officials to claim his bounty. With a almost casual and unphased move he drew a long wide bladed blade from its sheath and gripped the hair of the dead man. What followed next was a grizzly display of disdain for the dead.
When his gory task was done he slipped the head into a bag of salt to preserve until he could make good on delivery of his price.
And as the monks from the local church turned up, and with neutral faces began to lift the two dead men onto their cart he payed them the price of having the two men buried. But done so outside the consecrated grounds of the cemetery, no such luxuries for those whom committed sins for the mere advantage of easy coin.
As he heard the cart roll away, dragged by the two monks Sebastian stood there still puffing on his pipe when the unmistakeable sounds of men marching in heavy war plate could be heard echoing down the narrow street that lead to the inn.
As the sounds drew nearer he could hear the unmistakeable marching chant of the infamous and feared Iron Guard join with the sounds of marching men.
The cohort of men seemed to fill up every open space in the courtyard as they surged in and kept the great two handed swords they wielded in battle ready for use.
Leading this show of force was a lone figure mounted upon a grey horse dressed in the barding of the Thule confederation. As he took a better look he could see that it was not a man as expected but a woman, and that she looked to be either in great pain, or the less pleasant option simmering with anger. He did however get his answer when he saw that two of the armoured giants stepped fourth and lifted the woman carefully down from the horse.
She was dressed in cloths that looked more ceremonial than practical, and she leaned on a cane. Supporting her thin frame as she stood as if gathering herself before she began to slowly make her way over to him. As she crossed the muddy courtyard he caught sight of the inn keeper and his serving staff peering out from the doorway, pale as snow and with fear plainly displayed on their faces. Obviously this cripple was of some importance it seemed, as she could come with such a formidable escort and in such a display of wealth and power.

Then he noticed the symbols that adorned her flowing robes and realized just whom he was in the vicinity of. Sebastian Morgenstein feared no man, but to deny the power of some people and the sheer wrath they could unleash with a mere flicker of their fingers where indeed a recipe for instant death. One such individual was this woman. A member of the ruling class of the Thule Confederation, more precisely she was one of the the tribunes. Those who’s word where absolute and their every request an order to be followed to the letter.
As she came to a halt before him she looked up at the much taller man with her steel grey eyes and spoke in a low hushed tone. He knew all too well the devastation such talents could unleash,
“So you have not even spent more than a few hours inside these walls, and already two men lay dead at your feet. And I thought you where a man to honour his words..... even if they are not more worth than the lead you load your fire arms with! I believe your friend the good captain at the gates will disappointed. “ she finished and waited for a response from the man whom stood before her looking down at her with cold eyes, that revealed noting of what where going trough his mind.

“No, I never promised him to not kill any man to cross my path should the person be wanted. I just said I would not strike down the rouge on the broad street. And beside, I did not know that this city was a refuge for wanted men either?”

“ Being quarrelsome will not help you bounty hunter! But I do not care how many such vermin you butcher within the walls of the bastion, but I do have need of your skills however.” she said and was interrupted in her speech by a sudden and violent coughing fit that made her stick thin frame shiver. She gripped the cane with her almost skeletal thin fingers and spat blood onto the muddy ground.
The two Iron Guard members that had shadowed their mistress rushed to her aid but a wave of the hand and a surprisingly sharp command made the two stop. Her face covered in sweat, and distorted by agony she continued to speak to the bounty hunter.
“ If you are interested in doing the Thule confederation a great service, and make a very good profit of doing so I suggest you come see me. I think you do not need to be told where you can find me should the offer tempt you.” she said and waved for her two aids to come help her back to her horse.
The two giants lifted her gently upon the great warhorse that kicked impatiently with its iron shod hooves. Once in the saddle she turned and looked at the man with hair that had begun to show specks of white, and it seemed she almost waited for his reply. Whatever it may be.
She contemplated his hostile nature and the fact that he showed no worry about being outnumbered by so many steel clad men, this was in her eyes at least a man whom no longer worried about death or injury. Well not noteworthy at least. And then it was his eyes so utterly devoid of warmth and compassion. She felt that they where similar to those of a wolf or some other predator that had no mercy and had never known it either. Then her mind wandered to the one kept out of sight and under heavy guard outside the walls of the courtyard. Let us see what his price will be then she mused
“i am hunting a fiend most foul, even this pathetic delay may have allowed to escape the fate I have reserved for that animal. No one escapes my cold hands! Be they noble or peasant born my lady.”
He said and paused for a moment as he slid the long broad bladed blade he had used while hacking the head of the dead man.
“Once that beast I now hunt is dead and his foul deeds stopped I will come and seek you out. Then you can further detail it”

“The man your are hunting. If you saw him would you be able to recognize him at once?” the woman said with a look that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on edge. It was very, very rare indeed for someone to have that effect on him any longer. He became aware of the fact that beside her rank and obvious power he knew noting of this woman, nor her capabilities for intrigue and such.
“Yes that I would, without a doubt!”
he instantly regretted his words when he saw the sinister smile that seemed to change her face from a mask of cold indifference to a canvas filled with dark hearted satisfaction.
His hand closed around the hilt of his sabre out of reflex and old habit when rather unsettling woman turned and utter a command to the men whom stood guard by the entrance to the courtyard.
He then heard the creaking of heavy wagon wheels and the sounds of a pair of oxen hauling the wagon, and then as the wagon rolled into the courtyard where both man hunter and tribune.
Placed upon the wagon was a very solid looking iron cage secured by heavy chains, and a massive padlock upon the only way in or out of the thing. Alongside it a detachment of men clad in crimson red capes walked while clutching rather unpleasant looking lances.
These men where clearly not of the Iron Guard but they seemed no less deadly than their fellow soldiers.
When it stopped they too came to a halt and when the tribune simply glared at the man holding the keys they formed up in a circle while a lone member of the Iron guard took place beside the man locking the cage open.
The towering steel clad man waited for the door to swing open before speaking in harsh terms to whomever where inside. When his orders where not followed it seemed he reached in and dragged a half naked and clearly unwilling person outside.
The person whom seemed to be a man struggled but was brought to heel when the giant delivered onto him a backhanded blow from his gauntleted hand.
“On your feet worm! Do not make me repeat that order” the Iron guard officer with the promise of a brutal beating poorly hidden behind his words.
Dragging his captive with one hand the officer came fourth and stopped beside his mistress with the crimson clad men forming a protective wall between the filth in chains and the tribune, their lances aimed at the man.

“Have a look at this particular specimen of anti social scum Mr. Sebastian, I believe you will find him very, very interesting indeed.” the pale woman said as she gave both the captive, and the bounty hunter a cold smile.

Interesting end. I like it!
Where next for the tribune...a shady woman to be sure so probably something dark and dangerous I fear. But then again our bounty hunter is rather a grim fellow.

 Themanwiththeplan wrote:
Interesting end. I like it!
Where next for the tribune...a shady woman to be sure so probably something dark and dangerous I fear. But then again our bounty hunter is rather a grim fellow.

To answer that in some way, she will be proven to be the pivout upon witch his soul is balanced,

I like Sebastian - he's got some interesting depth to his character. In my head, he's like some hellish cross between The Man With No Name and the Witchfinder General.

I look forward to learning more about him.

Thank you to all that have read and commented, it really helps
@Necroagogo : You think so? Hmm never drew that sort of comparison but I suppose you are actualy quite spot on

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The bounty hunter looked down at the man, whom suddenly had turned a deathly shade of white. It was clear he recognized the looming figure as someone who was very, very bad for his personal health. Then the hunter recognized his prey and his eyes changed, from two cold slits that revealed noting of the man that lurked inside, to two volcanic vents that sent a look filled with noting but burning and unrestrained hate mixed with animalistic rage at his prey that was at last within reach.
The chained and beaten man scream in absolute terror when the looming man drew a long breath and stepped towards him with one hand reaching for his sabre.
The chained one tried to get away but his chains kept him firmly in place, and a flurry of brutal blows from the guards that now pressed him down with the butts of their lances.

“So we meet at last you bastard! I had hoped to get the pleasure of apprehending you myself. But I am not one to refuse a bit of help when it comes to putting a stop to animals like you! All the countless victims you have left in your wake, the families broken up by your horrific deeds” the man hunter almost growled to the man that where still trying to get away, despite the brutal beating his captors had just given him.
Fear radiated from his eyes as the man whom before his capture had been the very figure of nightmares told by fathers and mothers to their children, he had been the charming fiend that had lured scores of young women to their deaths. And the thief that had stolen whatever valuables his victims had carried on them when they died in utter agony.
But his luck had ended the moment he had set foot inside these wrenched walls, the guards at the gate had allowed him entry, their faces set in stone as they allowed the wanted man entry. Knowing all too well what sort of heinous crimes he was wanted for, he had rented a room in a up scale inn. With the intention both of resting and scouting for fresh victims amongst the local selection of women.
But his plans had come crashing down, when in the middle of the cold and rainy night as he was stalking one such victim he found himself being hunted by giants clad in solid steel plate and armed with massive two handed swords alongside crimson clad devils armed with lances and muskets.
They had chased him along the windswept streets, and cornered him like a wild animal. He had resisted like a man possessed. But he was only armed with a slender rapier and a dagger and against plate armour and fire arms he was defenceless.
They had mobbed him like a pack of wolves swarming a downed animal, and had beaten him almost senseless in their urge to subdue the fiend they knew they had caught inside their city. But the beating was far from the worst thing they had subjected him to, the woman he had stalked appeared out of the darkness and looked down at the bleeding man layed in heavy chains and kept down by sharp steel and iron shod boots.
In the light from the torches held by the towering steel clad giants she appeared as a ghoulish figure, her make-up washed away by the rain and her hair hung like a wet mane from her shoulders. Whatever beauty had made him catch an interest in her was fading very fast, she seemed more like a agent of vengeance and deceit there she stood grinning at him. Her pale skin and raven black hair mixing with her otherworldly eyes that locked his own in place.
She walked over to him as he struggled against the vice like grip the trio of Iron guards had him locked in.
Her talon like nails tapped rhythmically against the dagger that hung on her waistline as afforded him a look filled only with pure contempt and disgust.
“I almost expected you to be harder to apprehend, but then again Aragonians are seldom known for their intellectual prowess are they!” As he spat curses at this vile woman for daring to insult him and his homeland the fiend called out a order to her men.
“Gag this inbred oaf and bring him to the keep! Then send word to my mother, tell her that her price is secured behind bars.”
Before the man had time to utter a single foul natured word the butt of a lance struck him in the back of the head, and he slipped into unconsciousness with the burning sensation of the blow slowly fading away.
The woman whom now watched the men of the Iron guard and the scarlet figures of the Thule clerical guard haul the vile man away felt noting but irritation, she loathed spending time anywhere near the common folk and their deranged ways. It always seemed like they where just waiting for a chance to conjure up some new devilry, but she supposed the same vent for the so called civilized Aragonians, with that particulary vile specimen of humanity stemmed from.
Her retainers awaited her with her horse ready and a heavy and warm fur cloak to shelter her from the now pounding rain that hammered the cobbled streets. These men where amongst the few she really trusted, for even as the daughter of one of the most respected and feared Tribunes in all the confederation she had very, very few friends and even fewer people she really felt comfortable around.
Although the position had its perks, just as it had more than its fair share of negative sides too. One of them was the power she had at her hands, the other was the choice of profession. Freed from the restrictions that both gender and class had placed upon her she had taken a interest in the workings of the shadowy realm of the few souls that kept the confederation safe from both internal and external threats that could not be silenced with cannon and pike.
She had studied the arts of the spy masters, the blade masters and the art of those whom scoured trough the masses of intrigue to unveil plots and devious schemes.
While some lessons had made her sick to her guts, such as the lessons in interrogation and torture practised upon hapless fools or wanted men. While some lessons as those regarding the use of poison and the blade had come much easier to her, although they too had been given to her by harsh and unforgiving mentors. That had not cared or even asked about whom her parents where. She had in fact several ugly scars as a reminder of the bloody and frightening lessons in the use of steel by her mentor that had emigrated from the cold lands far to the north, and taken service with her mother. But with a mixture of sheer stubbornness and maybe natural skill she had survived and mastered those arts too.
But these skill had come on the expense of friends and comrades, few willingly developed a friendship with someone whom had as a purpose to with poison and dagger silence those whom where in opposition to the tribunal council and their iron fisted rule.
She spent most formal occasions alone or by the side of her mother until she could slip away and emerge herself either in books, or more often than not a bottle of brandy while brooding in a foul mood.
As her horse carried her trough the dark and we night found herself pondering what her skeletal thin but still very authoritarian mother had once told her about the man they seeked to employ.
Her words of warning had been listened to but in her youthful self confidence Sonja had not taken them as more than yet another lesson from her mother. Little did the young woman know about just how cold hearted and utterly merciless the man she where to spend time could be, or how deep his well of internal strife could be.
The bounty hunter glared bloody murder down at his captive that squirmed in his grip. He was aware of the Tribune paying close attention to the unfold events before her, deciding that the coin he could make from this worm was not nearly satisfaction enough for finally having him at his mercy was enough, he spoke with a cold voice.
“you feel the taste of fear do you not? Its a horrid thing is it not to have filling your whole body. The paralysing numbness and the certainty that you will die!”.
His victim only managed to gurgle a response due to a jaw broken by the brutal beating he had earned at the hands of the Iron guard. Then a thought came alive in Sebastian’s mind and a cold grin revealed some of the gold teeth that had replaced the ones he had lost due a almost fatal wound years ago.
“Have you ever seen a man being burnt alive? Its quite the spectacle, and I find it most satisfying to watch I must admit.”
Backhanding his prisoner he produced a small leather bottle from his person and while pressing the man down onto the muddy ground drenched the unfortunate wrench in the thick and stinking substance.
The tribune watched this with something resembling fascination and maybe a hint of worry, the man was clearly a very dangerous man to cross. That added to the fact that he was willing to watch several thousand pieces of silver burn before his eyes as he took his personal revenge on the man that had eluded him for so very long. She now began to fully understand why this man had such a baleful reputation amongst the criminal & lawless parts of the population, both in the north lands and in the south lands. No one wanted to die by the hands of a devil like this for whom the promise of cold coin could be outweighed by the thirst for a grizzly personal form of justice.
Her thoughts where interrupted when the man spoke to her, ignoring all manners of formal etiquette and norms.
“Lend me a light if you could be bothered to pull away from your scheming for a mere moment”
Any other man or woman whom spoke in such a tone to her would normally suffer her wrath, but this one did not. Instead she shook her head, she had no form of making fire on her. And spending some of her considerable powers to summon it was out of the question, she felt tired and cold to her bloody bones.
When no means of producing a spark where offered the man hunter nodded and drew one of his ornate pistols. Hauling the now oil soaked man up to his shaking feet he spoke to him in a unpleasant and rather warm tone.
“Now now, no need to sob. Stop squirming and this will be much easier, and do remember to scream”

And with that he took a long step back and without missing a beat fired his pistol, showering the man in sparks as the gunpowder ignited and sent sparks flying as the lead ball left the barrel.
The shot slammed into the wall of the far end of the courtyard, but the sparks however caught hold of the oil soaked rags the once feared and wanted man wore. And before anyone whom watched had time to say a word the flames roared into life and engulfed the once vain and smartly clad prisoner who began to scream in utter horror and pain as the oil fuelled flames roasted his flesh and ignited his dirty and bloodstained hair. As the man where turned into a human torch whom desperately tried to stamp out the flames that had engulfed him by now the man whom had killed him drew a deep breath and took a moment to ponder what would come next. He suspected that the pale and ghastly thin woman had not expected this turn of events, and she certainly had not expected him to reduce his bounty to noting more than a heap of charred flesh and bone.
With the screams of the dying man ringing in his ears the bounty hunter turned to the tribune.
“So then sorcerer or should I call you tribune... you bring me a man you knew I would dispose of either way. You also bring a formidable escort, witch strikes me as odd if you simply wanted to discus a matter of trade with me. Forgive my lack of chivalric etiquette but I do not find the company of your kind remotely enjoyable, spill your offer or leave me to my own dealings.” he as he fixed her with his glare.

“ You are indeed a unpleasant Northern dog are you not? Well as you have expressed so very clearly your dislike for my “kind” as you say, I will pester you no more. Although I should have you flogged for being so damned respect less. But since its your skills I need, and not your head on a spike I will indulge your curiosity. I have a letter than needs to be handed over to king of the Svea in person, for this I have chosen the only one of my servants I trust. However she is not suited to travel alone nor dose she know the lands to the north very well. That is where you come in! Make sure she arrives safely and unharmed and I will pay you whatever you may demand. Come see me at my residence after the sun has set and I will introduce you to her and give you further instructions.”

“And if I decline that invitation?”
“Then you will hung, drawn and quartered after suffering for years in the torture chambers that I reside over” she said with a smile and signalled for her horse to be brought to her. And thus she ended the discussion with her new servant, for the time being at least.

I really liked the fact that the quarry was quickly and efficiently rounded up by the authorities - a nice change of pace. Some good characterisation and descriptive passages in there, Trondheim. Nicely done.

 Necroagogo wrote:
I really liked the fact that the quarry was quickly and efficiently rounded up by the authorities - a nice change of pace. Some good characterisation and descriptive passages in there, Trondheim. Nicely done.

Agreed - really liked reading this update.

Why thank you both, it warms a soul to hear such nice feedback.

As dusk drew near and he had finished clearing the grim result of his personal vengeance away from the courtyard, and paying the inn keeper a hefty sum of coin in compensation for the horrors he had been forced to endure Sebastian mounted his horse and departed the scene.
He rode along the wide and winding avenues that lead up towards the looming fortress that lay at the hearth of the great city of Nidaros.
As he passed by the crowds that emerged from drinking dens, inns or whore houses his appearance and gloomy look kept most away from his path. But those that strayed too near recoiled when they saw the grisly trophies hanging from the saddle horn, two bloodied bags hung there. And few where willing to risk asking what the content where.
As he neared the gates of the fortress he passed trough a poorly lit and empty section of the avenue, it was there he felt the sensation of being watched. It started as a slow rise of the hairs on his neck and ended a s a sensation of distinct worry or maybe fear of what where lurking out there in the darkness.
He kicked his horse into a fast gallop to reach the gates and escape the unnerving feeling of being alone in the darkness. Refusing to give into his fear of just what where lurking out there he swallowed hard and drew one of his ornate pistols, as if its cold and familiar grip would ease his fear, for even he whom feared no man sometimes fled from the dark things that he knew all too well lurked in the dark woodland realms of the world.

Then as he reached the end of that cursed avenue he thought his weary eyes saw something massive and with matt grey fur rise up on two legs as if looking after a fleeing victim. But he dismissed as the mere product of weary eyes and a tired mind, although a small ember of fear still clung onto his mind as he stopped before the great iron clad gates of the fortress and awaited to be allowed in by the guards whom stood there like sentinels crafted of stone.
He was lead trough the gates by the captain of the guards whom where a slender man that despite his appearance radiated the sort of aura of utter confidence in his own abilities and those of his comrades. And judging by the well used sword that hung on his hip he was no stranger to battle and bloodshed either. The man said not a word as he escorted the guest of his mistress across the great marble covered square that lay in front of a towering monument to the power of the tribunal that ruled this city, as they crossed the square Sebastian was very aware the number of crimson clad figures that stood guard with their long lances ready for use.
It all added up to give a very dark look to the place, and had he not been so shaken by his previous encounter, or maybe imagined encounter with that dark thing he would have felt a small sting of worry.
They stopped before a pair of oak doors studded with brass nails and ornate patterns of what appeared to be silver and gold. The patterns formed the symbol of the Thule confederation, the gaping maw of a scaly beast embracing a rose.
As he studied the fine craftsman ship, and pondered the sheer cost of something like that the doors slid open. Greeting him where a servant clad in the livery of the tribune he served, the man had dirty blond hair and eyes that radiated a sense of purpose, the captain of the guard handed the man a folded scroll and spoke in a low voice to him with the man as he gestured towards the bounty hunter.
Following the brief exchange of information between the two servants of the tribune Sebastian was addressed by the servant.
“Please follow me sir, the lady is awaiting your arrival. And it would not be wise to keep her Ladyship waiting. Also I must ask that you do not attempt to touch any of the statues we pass. It would not be very beneficial for your personal health.”
And without any interest in hearing a reply from the guest his mistress had summoned to her household the servant turned and began to walk down the hallway that lay beyond the doors. Sebastian began to sense that there where more to this man than meet the eye due to the way he walked. And to the fact that now that his back was to him he could see several wicked scars beginning near the top of the neck and disappearing down the man’s uniform.
They walked in silence as they passed portraits of what he thought where the ancestors of the tribune, and various ornate trophies hung upon the walls. He also noticed the thick and clearly costly carpet that lay on the floor of the corridor.
“So how long have you served your mistress then? “ he asked, hoping to maybe pry some information out of the man.

“For almost thirty years have I been her service, she pulled me from the misery I once dwelled in and gave me new purpose in life.” the man answered and just as he was about to ask the man a new question the servant came to a stop in front of a long winding stair that lead upwards into the higher levels of the residence.
The man pointed to the stairs and told the bounty hunter that he should follow the stairs up and continue trough the door he would find at its end, there his mistress would receive him.
“Now sir, I must take my leave of you. I trust you will not set about looting and despoiling the place after I have left.” the man said before turning around and leaving Sebastian to look as the man left him.
He allowed himself a moment in time to study the oil painting and other decorative pieces that hung around him before setting a course up the stairs, as he did he recalled the warning given to him by the servant. And as he passed the first pair of stone gargoyles that seemed to form a bizarre honour guard of sorts up along the stairs he decided to not put the warning to the test.
The ivory coloured statues glared at him with the shining emeralds that their maker had given them as eyes and the pitch black material their talons where made of seemed to reflect every bit of light that hit them as he walked passed the marvellous works of art. He could all too well imagined the damage such talons could to a man if the damned things where to awaken by some ungodly miracle.
Having passed by at least sixteen of the things he reached the top of the stairs and outside the door he was instructed to proceed trough once he got there by the servant.

“You honestly believe me so helpless I need to be watched over like some virgin maid? I thought I had proven myself at least a dozen or times over! You threat me like a child and expect me to jump at your every command!” the young woman snapped at her scowling mother whom sat in reclined in a large chair, with a heavy wool blanket wrapped around her skeletal thin frame. She would appear weak and fragile to an outsider, but her biting tongue and eyes flaring with anger revealed a different spirit lurking beneath her outer shell.
“Watch your tongue you foul mounted banshee! You WILL do as told and you WILL show the respect you own me. Do not think yourself safe from my wrath if you choose to keep this tirade up!” her mother snapped with a murderous gleam in her eyes.
But in her hubris and youthful belief in her own verbal prowess her daughter pressed on with yet another barrage of arguments and spiteful remarks. Ambrosia, tribune of the Thule Confederation and the undisputed ruler of Nidaros felt anger well up inside her like avalanche of dark and seething fury.
Having had more than enough of her daughter and her rebellious and ill mannered style of behaviour she rose to her feet. And drawing fourth the powers that lay within her very soul she made her anger known. Her daughter whom where named Sonja realized her mistake and was about to yield in the hot worded debate when the fury of her mother was unleashed.
With a simple word a pulse of raw power she found herself gripped around the throat by a unseen hand and pulled close to her mother, who was the very image of a vengeful and angered woman of immense power.
The pale and thin woman crossed the floor with a stride that would seem unknown to her, a dark sphere of raw primordial power forming in her left hand as she hauled her daughter up by her hair and held her aloft with one ice cold hand.
“You may be my flesh and blood, but do not think such behaviour will be allowed! I expect you to act like a proper servant of the confederation! And as my daughter....” she said in a low tone as her daughter gasped for air as the dark sphere of otherworldly power vanished, and her mother allowed her to take a deep breath of air while tears rolled down her face due to the horrid pain she had just felt surge trough her body.
“Defy my will again....And there will be no power in either heaven or hell that can save you from my wrath!” the witch said as she looked down at her daughter.
The moment of humiliation and horror where broken by a low rumbling growl that came from a poorly illuminated corner of the room as two yellow orbs appeared and a figure with obsidian black fur came into view. The beast was a hound of an immense sense, with great paws that ended in long dull claws. It was a savage and merciless animal that knew not the concept of mercy nor of any soft bed.
As it stood there and looked at the prone form of the human a hungry look seemed to awake in its eyes and it took a long step forwards while its massive yaw opened to reveal rows of yellow teeth and a long pink tongue. But its fierce loyalty to its mistress meant that it came no closer and resigned itself to simply glaring hungrily at the bleeding human.

Outside the heavy oak doors stood Sebastian and awaited a response from within. He suspected that someone had just been disciplined, and that the tribune was more likely than not gathering herself after dishing out whatever form of punishment.
Being a man whom had no intention of dying just yet he had decided to knock on the door instead of just walking straight in, no need to press ones luck when dealing with anyone whom seemed more than capable of reducing a man to a heap of charred bones by the mere wave of her fingers.
He raised one gloved hand and knocked hard on the door, and waited for a few long breaths before pushing it open and stepping inside the dimly light room.
As he stepped inside he became aware of the strong scent of some strong scented form of incense and the wage hint of something else. Perhaps the smell of some unseen pelt or trophy but he did not let go of the hilt of his sabre just yet.
Then as he heard the door being closed behind he became aware of the two figures standing beside the massive fireplace and the third shape of a enormous hound that stood between him and them, the beast dwarfed any other war hound he had ever layed eyes on.
Its rough black coat of hair looked like it could have stopped a sword blow and the fur did not manage to hide the mass of solid muscle lay hidden beneath it. As it raised its head and gazed at him, Sebastian could only imagine where the old woman had managed to find such a great beast to have as a pet. Its massive jaws that looked strong enough to crack bones and shred metal where open, and revealed rows of yellow teeth while its dull claws that looked more like iron hooks gripped the floor.
“May I offer praise for your hound Tribune, it is a prime example of its breed. Although I have not seen its kind before I must admit” he said and moved his hand away from the hilt of his still sheathed sabre.
“Why thank you darling, yes he is quite unique. But I do not believe you came here to praise my pet, I think my promise to you made you come did it not” the frail looking woman said and leaned on her cane as she strode up to stand beside the hound.
She had looked ill and deathly pale when he had first seen her, but now...he tried to suppress a shudder as he looked at the pale woman that stood before him. Her eyes where sunken into her skull, her skin had a bluish tone to it and there where a distinct aura of illness that radiated from her. But her eyes still burnt with the cold and baleful look they had possessed when he had first meet her.
“ Well I must admit that such an offer is hard to turn down your grace.” he said while looking at the younger woman whom had come to stand by her mistress. He let his eyes wander up and down her figure and take in what he saw.
She was the very image of a classical beauty, although the large bruising on her left cheek and her bloody nose did something to diminish her beauty. But still, any sane man or woman for that matter with the coin to spare would have payed an arm and leg to get her into their chambers he imagined. She was quite tall but still elegant and with a well defined body that showed that she had not needed to go without proper food or other things. Long locks of brown hair hung down her shoulder and her low cut shirt revealed a rather ample bosom.
She was indeed beautiful he though, and even if he seldom felt the urges of nature rise in him she still produced a slight reaction from his more primordial parts.
The moment of silence where broken by the old woman as she broke into a violent coughing fit that nearly made her fall to the floor. But she pulled herself together and with the support of the woman at her side she spoke in a weary tone.
“ I will get to the hearth of the reason why I commanded you to come here, as you may have noticed I am in no shape or form to undertake any sort of journey myself. And I trust no one else than my daughter here to carry the item I need to see delivered to the king of Sveariket. But she can not travel alone, nor would I allow it if she could do so either. You may present yourself as noting more than a man that hunts his fellow humans for cold coin, but I know you are decent enough to be trusted. Your actions over the years in the service of certain members of the confederation has reassured me about that.”

so the old crone had a daughter, now that was not something he had expected at all. But still, even a cold hearted fiend as her had a right to spawn a new generation he silently mused.
“I see...And seeing how you clearly already have made preparations for this I would very much like to know just what is so important that you, a tribune of the Thule confederation would not simply send her on her way with a small army as her escort? If you allow this speculation I believe you do not wish the wider world to know about whatever this precious message holds. Further more I sense that you fear the discovery of this journey by your own, do feel free to correct me if I am wrong.” he finished.

“Oh my, quite the sharp one are you not my dear!” the old one said and smiled to him, but the smile was devoid of anything else than the thinly concealed threat that lay behind almost every word she spoke. She gestured to a pair of chairs set beside the fire while being supported to one of them by her great beast that seemed to consider the man noting more than its next meal judging by the look in its yellow eyes. Sebastian took notice of the how strained the relationship between mother and daughter seemed, and how wary the younger one seemed of her mother and her fierce guardian.
The tribune continued speaking as she sank down into the chair with one thin hand resting on the back of the hound.
“Yes you are indeed correct, I would very much dislike to learn that any of my fellow tribunes had learned of the message I have prepared for the good king of Svea. Furthermore I know you to be a man I can trust, seeing how you have preformed so admirably when you have preformed certain tasks for me in years gone by.”
“I see your memory is still sharp then madam, seeing how you have presented such a task to me, and that I have no wish to test fate when you and your ilk are involved consider me your loyal servant until my work is carried out.” the man said and seemed to be pondering the task ahead of him, and maybe feeling a slight degree of worry worm its way into his black hearth.

“Good good, I will see to that you are given time to prepare and talk the journey at hand over with my daughter then” the old crone said and gestured for them both to depart from the room.
As the pair departed the room, and left the old woman sitting there beside the great roaring fire, and flanked by her faithful guardian.
“Shadow them, show me what they see and make sure the message dose not fall into the wrong hands should he fall! And if he dose....Kill the girl!”
The beast growled, and with a heave of its front legs rose to stand on its hind legs, its eyes glowing with a bestial intelligence mixed that of a man trapped beneath the hide of a wolf.

Some really nice passages of description in there, mixed with good characterisation.

I take it we're going to see the manwolf thing cut loose sometime soon?

Wow that's one heartless hag. Kill the daughter, ruthless. I approve at these turn of events.

As he walked out the ornate doors of the inner sanctum of the ageing tribune Sebastian found himself fixed by the almost mesmerizing eyes of the woman he would be travelling with in the time to come. Freed from the shadow of her less than kind hearted mother she seemed changed, and not just in a good way. There was a hunger for power and a ruthless will to achieve that by any means the young lady deemed fit.
But he also sensed a softer side behind that shield of self control, she was maybe her mothers daughter but that seemed to be where the similarities between those two women ended.
He was not quite sure how beginning their announced talk so he left that honour to the woman walking in front of him.
“So my dear mother thinks I am to frail and foolish to venture out into the wider world. And thus she hires a man well known for his love for cold coin, and a obvious taste for dramatic endings to personal feuds if the rumours are to be believed sir Morgenstein. Also I wonder why on earth you of all people where the one my mother picked?” she said with a clear tone of anger in her tone. Before the man in question had time to respond the fiery one continued her barrage of pent up anger, although now trough a more vocal means of venting.
“ She sits in that damned chamber and broods like a damnable wyrm sleeping amongst its hoard while I am left to weed out rebels and ungrateful nobles whom dare to question her way of ruling. And the only one whom seems to avoid her whip like tongue is that damnable mongrel you saw sitting at her side. “

“I would be careful to speak such sentiments at this moment miss, it is my experience that your mother has long ears. And I would prefer to depart from this rather gloomy hall of solitude alive rather than in a coffin” the grey haired bounty hunter said and pulled out his pipe, and stuffed the thing with strong tobacco before using a nearby candle to light it. Letting out a long puff of thick scented smoke he continued.
“I think you should be grateful that you still have the ability to walk, let alone be given the role of messenger for your mother, after that rather heated discussion of yours. Few people seem to live to tell the tale” he said gave her a knowing look of the eyes.

“Hmm yes, I hate to admit this but you seem to posses some minor intellect after all. Perhaps she did not make a completely bad decision when she hired you. I will take a bit of a gamble and say that there is far more to you than what meets the eyes sir Morgenstein.”

“I do have my moments of clarity, even if I am no longer a young man. And well a man must have some secrets, even if they must be concealed from the likes of charming company as yourself my lady.” he said and gave her a wolfish smile, revealing several gold teeth.
Walking now side by side they walked on in silence before Sonja stopped outside a heavy looking oaken door. She drew a key from her belt and unlocked the door and pushed it open.
“I intend to have myself a generous helping of brandy, and get these damnable rags of. Therefore I wish you a good night Morgenstein. “
“ A sensible thing miss, I will come find you in the morning then when you are rested. I assume you wish to get started with the preparations as soon as possible?” he said and have her a bow before turning on his heels to leave, and as a shade from some dark dream he vanished into the gloomy hallway with the scent of the pipe tobacco hanging in the air. As she watched the man that where to be her companion and guardian vanish she felt something unusual tug at her soul. She did not why but the man had somehow fascinated her, although she would rather die than to admit that in the presences of anyone though.

Later that night the cold rays of the moon that now had risen found Sebastian sitting beside the stained glass window in his room, he sat on a bench beside a modest sized table. His sabre and pistols layed out on the table, all three objects gleaming dimly n the silver toned light that had found them.
Sipping a mug of beer while letting his thoughts wander back in time, to a time when he had been a better man. With a firm sense of moral and a will to fight, even if the bitter strife with his brother and their father had left him scarred in more ways than one. He remembered the day he had joined the hussars, the smell of horse and polished leather mixed with the smell of sweat as he and his comrades drilled endlessly. The days spent in company with other young and brave men of varied backgrounds and the friends he had gotten.
Then his days drifted to the fateful day when the young recruits where assembled and hurled into the chaos of war, the feeling of excitement the young men had shared, or maybe the lack of understanding of just how horrid war was to partake in. they had departed from the academy riding in formations with banners flowing in the wind and hearths & minds fuelled with the desire of glory and fame as dashing cavalry men.
Then the days of bloodshed, loss and misery began. Their first taste of combat was a swirling skirmish with the horsemen of the enemy near a river ford. There he killed his first man and his second and third. He recalled screaming in denial as he saw his closest comrade being run trough by a lancer. The rest of the day had drifted into noting more than a foggy memory laced with grief and shock. The years that followed saw him loose more friends than he cared to see to the horrors of war, so when a noble officer commanded him to lead a suicidal charge against a vastly superior enemy formation he had layed the filthy coward low with a blow from his sabre.
The men had just watched in silence, and none had raised a hand to stop him when he ordered his troop to withdraw.
That night he swore to never serve under the banners of a king that wasted the life of common men like sand to the wind. Then the moment of reflection of days long gone ended as the ageing man took a long sip from the mug, and blew out the the candle that stood on the table.
“damn these memories! I need more drink” he grumbled and rose to his feet and with a slight limp towards the door.
Steeping outside into the hallway he looked around, hoping to see any servant lurking nearby to ask for more of the beer he had been drowning his memories with. But seeing no one the bounty hunter drew a deep breath of silent despair and maybe frustration he turned around and set a course for his bed.

When dawn broke it found both bounty hunter and the young mistress awake, but at different states of it though.
Fate found the man first, Sebastian rose from his night of rather restless sleep, haunted by old dreams and nightmares that seemed to haunt him every night. With red eyes and a rather foul mood he stood dressing himself in both armour and cloth. He struggled for a while with his heavy mail shirt and the leather straps that secured it,but years of practice ensured that he managed to get properly dressed.
Having holstered his weapons and light his pipe he left the bedroom behind and stepped out into the hallway and began to walk towards the courtyard to await his client.

As Sonja climbed out of her bed and set foot on the rug covered floor she shuddered with cold, and grabbed the heavy fur that lay slung over a chair within arms reach.
Her naked frame did not respond well to the cold, and she could feel how her hairs stood on end as she called for her chamber maid.
The maid came into the bedchamber of her mistress, carrying the cloths her mistress had told her to prepare for the day to come.
A silk shirt, a heavy and warm fur coat and a rather warm long skirt alongside a pair of warm fur lined booths and riding gloves where amongst the thing the girl came hauling with her.
“Hurry up girl! I don’t have all bloody day” the rather morning grumpy woman said to her maid as she suppressed a shudder as she dropped the heavy fur she had been keeping warm with.
Looking down to avoid looking at the naked form of her mistress the girl handed her undergarments. She waited until Sonja had put those on before daring to raise her eyes, and helping her with the rest of the cloths. The finale piece of accessory was her long and slender rapier alongside a finely crafted pistol that she concealed inside her coat.
“All done miss? Or do you require anything else before starting the day?” the young woman asked her superior.
But before her mistress could answer her a sharp knock on the door interrupted the pair, and the sound of someone clad in heavy war plate opening the door.
In walked the only man alive that could afford such an display of disdain for the privacy of lady Sonja, the towering figure of the Iron Guard commander whom was only subordinated to her mother. The man had long displayed no love for Sonja far from it, he had only shown her cold disdain and the bare minimum of respect ever since she had eared the place she now commanded within the city and the other realms her mother governed with an iron fist. But the normally cold voice of the man was now instead marked by another tone, one she had thought lost to the giant of a man. It was the abnormal sound of a man genuine worried that now spoke to her.
“If you two are done playing dress up I suggest that you get moving lady Sonja! Your mother was in a foul mood this morning and I would not linger for long unless you wish to temp her wrath” the man said and stood there waiting for her to accompany him. Those words made her consider the man in a partially new light, he was perhaps as her a result of the hardship and brutal ways of the training he had undergone. And maybe just maybe if she lived trough this coming ordeal she would offer the man a gesture of friendship but it would have to wait.

Meanwhile the Iron Guard commander had gone to fetch lady Sonja, Sebastian stood beside outside the stable where his horse had been stabled. The weather was grey and generally miserable with the promise of more rain hanging heavily in the air.
As a stable boy brought his horse out from the stable he looked around to see if the damned woman had decided to show up. But he saw no sign of the curvy beauty and let out a sigh as the stable boy handed him the reins and made himself scarce as soon as the bounty hunter had the reins safely in his hands.
And luck seemed to smile on him, because he had not waited more than for a few heartbeats before he spotted Sonja walking towards him flanked by a armoured giant of a man and the old hag and a rather hefty amount of honour guards trailing behind the pair.
“Il be damned, the old crow seems to think her daughter so incompetent that she needs to be escorted to the stables.” he said to himself under his breath. Perhaps a sign of things to come thunder rumbled overhead and a light drizzle began to fall.
The old woman was supported by the commander of the Iron Guard, her face a mask of pain as she crossed the courtyard and for once her sharp tongue did not lash her daughter. The woman felt the ravages of her wounds grip her in a vice like grip and it was just her strength of will that allowed to keep herself from fainting.
“ Do not waste a moment Sonja! All that both you and I have fought to secure rests upon the letter you carry! May the lord almighty keep you safe!” she said before turning to the bounty hunter.

“I trust you Sebastian! You are the only man I know I can rely on to see this done! But know this, there are many that will seek to hinder your passing, be on guard at all times!”

“I thank you for your concern my lady but no harm will come to her!” he said in his cold and emotionless tone but his eyes had a different gleam to them, he expected danger and she knew the man expected bloodshed in the time that lay ahead of him.
And with that the old war hound kicked his horse and set his sight towards the north as Sonja kicked her own horse and set after the man that would be her guide and guardian.
All this while the rain that had began as a mild drizzle increased to a torrential downpour.

The journey begins! I wonder what is in that letter?
Nice chapter with a little more insight into the bounty hunters past, more please.

I like grizzled, careworn old grumps with great depth of backstory. Sebastian's shaping up very nicely.

Glad you liked it lads, always nice to hear that my works meets your expecations

As the pair rode down the cobble stoned streets that where almost empty of most sane people, it would seem the inhabitants of the great city seemed content to wait until the downpour had passed and better weather came to be. They left the city of Nidaros behind them as they departed trough the great northern gate.
Ahead of them lay the open fields and farmlands that seemed to go on far of into the distance, the signs of the winter to come where all around for the fields had been tilled and the ones that had not been tended to had been left to await spring. There where few signs of the farmers that tended the fields and their livestock. But the foul weather had that plagued the lands for weeks now where likely to blame, that and the war that raged where also to blame. The armies of Thule required meat and grain and thus the ones left behind to tend the lands where forced to double their efforts and workload to feed the ever hungry armies of the confederation.
The pair rode in silence for a long time with only the sounds of the rain and the horse hooves to break up the silence. While they rode Sonja took the time to draw her own measure of her hired protector and travelling companion for the weeks to come. He seemed to be a hard soul and a man ravaged by war and general misery, his scared face and calloused hands left little doubt of how he had earned the skills that now served him as a bounty hunter. But the thing that struck her the most was just how lonely the man looked, he did a fine job of masking it for all those that surrounded him. And most folk be they royal or common man would not wish to pry into his private sphere lest risk stir the beast within. She concluded with that her companion was perhaps deserving of a chance to open up, even if it where just to make her own boredom on the road a bit less dreary.
So deciding that the one whom dose not dare dose not win she broke the silence that had layed between them for the last few hours.
“ So I may own you a apology seeing how we are quite literary stuck together for better or worse for weeks to come, I may have been a bit too harsh when we first meet, and seeing how you seem to be quite bright for a mere sell sword and perceptive of those around you I hereby extend a offer apology for my rude ways yesterday!” she said with a sincere tone to her voice, and those whom knew her well would most likely have offered testimony of how rare that actually where.
To these words the grey haired man man merely blinked at first before taking a heartbeat to think about what she had just said. It was clear to her that her attempt at bridging the somewhat cold waters between them had caught him by surprise. When he had time to gather up his clearly disrupted thoughts he answered her in a somewhat unsure tone
“If you think its necessary I suppose it is so then, although I had you figured for the type that seldom offered a mere sell sword such luxuries!” he said with a clear hint to her attitude towards him when they had first meet.
“Nor did I find you very rude, more along the lines of sensual, I do like women with curves” the seasoned bounty hunter said with a wolfish grin on his face as he adjusted his hat.

To that she had no clear cut rely at first, it dawned on her that this man most likely saw her as a rather attractive if somewhat hazardous company, she stifled a shudder when she imagined being nude near such a savage soul.
Why some women loved the idea of such bed companions where lost on her at just that moment in time.
“Well then....Glad we could clear the air between us then! Now I feel inclined to ask where our path to the north will go?”

“ Well since you ask so nicely girl, our first port of call so to speak is the city of Novogrod on the banks of the great river that marks the border to Sveariket, its about two weeks of riding to get there if all things go as smooth as a virgin. Then if noting goes particulary wrong and we get passage of a ferry across the river we should reach the place of your destination within a week at most. “ he finished.


At the mention of the city of Novogrod ruled by the brutal and less than friendly Russ the lady went pale, there was very little love lost between the great Tsar and the ones that lived to the west and south. His armies had proven more than a match for anyone that was foolish enough to see the nomads of the eastern realms as mere barbarians and unwashed heathens, but anyone whom had faced the lighting fast horsemen and the stoic formations of heavily armoured foot soldiers and heavy cavalry that struck like a thunder blow.
The Tsar had opted to keep his hand out of the brutal wars of religion and hate that raged to the west, where the confederation of Thule, the holy kingdom of Aragonia, and the other powers that dwelled in the west and to the south, spilled the blood of each other in the greatest war to ever sweep the lands.

“So you tell we that we actually to mingle with those unwashed sheep lovers?” she said with clear disgust on her face as she imagined sitting next to one such individual in some smoke filled and stinky tavern.
“I had hoped for a more elegant choice of path and possible surroundings, but then again, going the less obvious route may be a smart thing too” she muttered under her breath.
“I would keep such sentiments to myself I where you Sonja! Don’t mistake the lack of fancy cloths and the smell of perfume as a sign of weakness or uncivilized manners! Such things are likely to get you either killed or worse in your case.” her companion said with a dark look on his face.
After that exchange of words the pair fell silent for a long time as a new storm loomed on the horizon. Meanwhile far away out on the roiling steppes that awaited them someone else was making its way trough the almost abandoned farm lands and tilled fields.
The paws that ended in long ditty claws propelled the great beast fourth as it shadowed the duo that rode northwards.
Yellow eyes that radiated a bestial cunning mixed with something far more unsettling followed the grey haired man as he turned in his saddle to answer the woman.
The sight drew a low rumbling growl from the barrel like chest of the immense hound.
It growled as the scent of horse and man flesh reached its nostrils but it dismissed the rumblings of its hungry belly as it once more began to shadow the pair like a hungry cairn wraith.

As Sebastian and the lady Sonja put behind them mile upon mile as they rode north east the sky began to crack with sunshine for the first time in weeks.
The cold rays of the sun found a damp farmland and two travellers that welcomed the break in the foul weather as they began to see signs of spare habitation break up the seemingly endless pastures and the now barren wheat fields.
The homesteads where small and built of either stone or timber, with low roofs and squat chimneys.
The people they now caught glimpses of where made of hard stuff, and where no strangers to hardship and long periods of bad weather and the harsh toll life took of them. The many cairns that dotted the fields near the small settlements bore proof of this.
Sonja took in these sights with a somewhat casual manner or so she tried to display at least. But she felt the idea of her own people, those whom she had undertaken this journey for deserved far better than to dwell in such misery and hardship. Generals and rules could claim that it was they that made a nation grate, but she knew otherwise. Without the common man and his hard labour no empire could ever be built, or realm defended from its foes.
She decided at that moment that she would do her best to make their life’s less filled with just hard work and sorrow.






As they reached the first decent sized village her companion spoke with a somewhat weary tone in his voice.
“I don’t know about you my lady, but I could murder for a cold beer and a respite from the saddle. Seeing how we have been riding since dawn without a break more or less. So I suggest we begin looking for a place to stop before evening fall, unless you feeling like sleeping under stars.” he said with a slight smirk finding its way to his weather worn face.
“That sounds like a suggestion I could support, lord know my butt is in need of some respite from this damnable saddle, I hate to think of the road of ahead of us if every evening will feel like this one dose. Lead the way to whatever sleeping quarters you see fit to serve our needs” she said and patted the neck of her horse.
To this he only gave her a wolf like grin and a slight shake of the head. No doubt he thought her a soft darling from the noble court not used to riding, or the saddle for that matter. But his attempt at humour showed her that somewhere inside that old grizzled war dog a decent man still lived.

They rode down the muddy road that ran trough the small hamlet and set their eyes on the small inn that would be their resting place for a few hours.
When they dismounted in the small courtyard a tired looking boy appeared out from the stable, and took the reins to their horses with very clear instructions to feed and water them well in exchange for the promise of coin. The lad nodded and with a somewhat discrete look at Sonja he lead the two horses into the warmth of the stable and began to see to their needs.
With their horses taken care of and the need for both warm food and drink making itself known the pair entered the tavern.

The common room was filled with weary looking farmers and travellers whom seemed busy drinking way the evening, the buzz of voices and the smell and feel of a warm room made Sonja relax and take a deep breath of relief. Although the smells that assaulted her nostrils where far from well perfumed they made her feel at ease.
In addition to this a collection of rather unpleasant looking men seated around a great table near he bar counter made her shiver in disgust. The men looked like sell swords of some sort, wearing heavy mail and with weapons within arms reach. The amount of empty beer mugs and plates told her that they had been her for some time, and that they where deep in their cups by now.
“Il find us a table, you get us something to drink will you?” Sebastian said and set his course for a free table at the far end of the room, near the warmth of the fireplace and, more likely away from the spying eyes of all those here that he did not know or trust.
Undoing her riding cape and pulling her glows of, she wandered up to the bar Sonja waited for the person in front of her to receive his own order before she could order.
The bar keeper whom was a man well passed his prime and with a fading hairline grinned as he looked her up and down, his eyes pausing particulary at her bosom. She had felt several of the men giving her that treatment, she supposed there where seldom women like her travelling this way, or that the local selection was not much to cheer about.
“So darling, what can I get you? “ he said with a smirk on his face.
“One mug of beer and a glass of brandy if you please” she said with a smile, pretending not to notice his lusty eyes,
the man poured the drinks and placed them on the counter before her, she paid him in glimmering coin and thanked him for the serving and headed for where Sebastian sat with his back to the wall, eyes drifting around the room as if looking for a point to focus on.

He took the beer mug from her and took a small sip, before setting it down on the table and producing his pipe from his belt before stuffing it with strong smelling tobacco and lighting it. The almost sweet smell of pipe tobacco soon filled the space around them, and the shine from the embers seemed to reflect in his eyes.
“So did you hear anything interesting while you waited for the innkeeper to serve you? Any rumours or such that the local raffle spoke about?” he asked Sonja in a low tone.
She took a deep sip of the brandy before answering while letting her hair fall down, giving her a almost mystical and quite sensual look as the glow from the fire reflected on her pale skin.

“ Notting out of the ordinary it seems, from what little I heard. I don’t think anything noteworthy have happened around here for ages, let alone these few past days before our coming. If you are so interested in the local gossip you could always just ask you know, I am sure one of the serving maids would love to sit on your knee and tell you all you need to know eh?” she said with a glimmer of amusement in her eyes as she eyed the reaction her slight jab got from her companion.
“Hehe well if you say so miss, but I would not place a bet on just that. Well unless you volunteer to sit on my knee” the bounty hunter answered, not missing a beat while taking a deep sip from his beer mug.
To this simple but yet rather audacious proposal the lady Sonja felt a very strange feeling well up inside her, and her cheeks turn warm. She had thought herself immune to such feelings or that he could affect her in such a way. But there was something about the old wolf that made her think of things that a lady like her should not fill her mind with at times like this.
But her train of thought where interrupted by the noise produced by the group of sell swords, whom now where busy playing cards and harassing the serving girls while still putting away large amounts of the strong ale served to them.
“Quite the lively bunch of lads are they not?” she heard him say as he drained his beer mug and got to his feet with a course for the bar with the empty mug in hand.
“More like animals in the disguise of men, and with the body odour to match” she said with a clear tone of disgust in her voice.

As I've said before, a good chapter. Now give us all the bar brawl that we know is coming.

Someone's going to be thrown through a window.

Thanks for the update Trondheim - always a pleasure to see another installment. I like the leisurely pace of character development - you're giving us the time to get to know your protagonists.

The by now rather unhappy inn keeper looked at the tall and grey haired fellow that stood and waited for it to be his turn to be served. The man stood out amongst the rest of his assorted crowd of both sell sword and common farmers alike, there was a palatable aura of the vague promise of violence around the man. His cold eyes where fixated on the beer mug he gripped in a vice like with one hand, while his other rested on the hilt of a well used sabre by the looks of it.
“Damned bandits one and all of that lot” he muttered under his breath as he reached for the beer mug held by the grey haired man.
“You want a refill I assume? Or something else perhaps?” he asked, trying to keep his voice quite calm as he always strived for, no point in risking ones life when dealing with men whom clearly had a lot more experience with cold steel than him. That and a willingness to use it too but such where the hazards that a inn keeper had to deal with at times.
“Yes if you don’t mind inn keeper, and I would also like a bottle of your finest brandy brought to my table.”
“Sure wont take more than a few hearth beats, but the brandy is going cost you some silver. Its hard enough to get it up here as it is, without the war and all.”
“How much exactly?”
“ twenty silver for the whole bottle, two coppers for the beer”
But as his customer where reaching for his coin purse and paid him the named price something made the silver haired man stop cold in his tracks. A broken piece of conversation was what had caught his attention, the mention of the brutal treatment they had delivered onto helpless refuges as they sought to fill their own purses with what few riches such people perhaps have hidden away. More so the particulary mention of how they had hounded a spindly girl as she fled trough eh rain soaked woods, only breaking of the pursuit when she had flung herself of a cliff and into the churning waters far bellow. Maybe that was set the fires of anger in the man that stood before him.
Then the inn keeper saw something he would not forget until the day he died, the eyes of the man went almost black with hate, left smouldering for a long, long time. And finally allowed to break free and onto the world around him.
“I suggest you and your serving staff make yourself scarce now. The men behind me will soon catch a unfortunate case of death! And I would hate for any stray shot to harm a bystander.” the man said as he turned and paced towards the tables where the sell swords sat.
Sebastian felt his anger swell up inside him and threatening to overwhelm his self control. His blood felt like it was on fire and he could have sworn he felt a slight trickle of sweat beginning to gather in the palms of his hands.
He cursed himself for not killing this gang of murdering thief’s and looters when he had the chance. Had only the voice of cold practicality not held a firm grip on him that day the river would have run red with blood and perhaps some lost soul would not meet its end at the hands of these dogs in the guise of men. But he knew such thoughts where of no use, try as he might he could not undo the events of days passed and decisions made in the past.
Sonja felt a sense of ease seep into her bones after she had changed her cloths. Having gotten out of the rather wet and damp riding gear and slipping into something a bit unfit for a lady like her but oh so gracefully pleasant to wear she smiled as she walked down the stairs and back into the common room. The table still stood there as she had left it and she was glad to see that none of the locals had occupied it, in her brief time of absence. Although her glass had been removed, and a new one plus a bottle of rather expensive looking brandy now occupied it instead. And as for her comrade she did not see due to the hustle and bustle near the bar.
As she was about to sit down she did however catch sight of him once more, and now the man looked positively like the myth folks made him out to be. His eyes gleamed with a unhindered smouldering hate and a lust for murder and blood shed.
She then saw whom most likely had roused his inner demons, the same group of sell swords he had commented on before departing their table to get more to drink. But she did not expect the events that unfolded after that moment in time.

The first to feel his anger never saw the blow coming, the scrawny looking man sat on his chair with beer mug in hand, and where busy boasting about the things he had done to some noble son when he felt a pair of hands seize him by the hair and haul him up and locking him in a vice like grip. The the gruesome sound of snapping bone as the looming stranger broke the neck of the sell sword and tossed the lifeless body aside while panic and shock rippled across through out the room. People yelled and the comrades of the man took a moment to react but when they did they did so like a pack of rabid and snarling beasts, whom just had seen one of their own killed by a rival that dared to raise hand against them.
“Ah gentlemen! Good to see that even your inbred self s are able to keep some measure of attention to the task at hand.” the bounty hunter said and drew his own blade as the remaining sell swords fanned out in a almost half moon shaped formation around him, their sights set on blood and vengeance for their dead comrade that lay in a heap on the floor.
“You may ask yourself just why I wrung the neck of the now heap of cooling gak laying on the floor, well seeing how I would hate you all to die in ignorance I will shed some light on your fate soon to be, you all have committed crimes that sentence you all to death. But seeing how no yeomen or other law upholding men are to be found I will act as jury, judge and executioner this day! Say my greetings to the fiends of hell when you get there.”
that was as far in his speech as he got, for at that moment several of the sell swords rushed towards him with daggers and sabres drawn.
The first to reach struck fast and hard aiming low as if to disembowel on the first strike, but his strike was parried and answered with a brutal blow to the face, followed by a equally painful kick to the groin that made the man drop like a pole axed oxen, his eyes watering and a almost whimpering tone sipping from his mouth.
But he had no time to look down on the man had that he just had dropped, for doing so would have been the end of him as a gleaming axe swirled past him and bit deep into the wall on the opposite side of the room. Then came the axe thrower with another axe ready to spill blood.


The axe man and another of his comrades hurled themselves at this devil that dared lecture them and not least strike down their comrades. His blood would be spilt and his head hacked of if they had their way.
Ducking one furious swing and parrying another from the other bandit armed with a slender cavalry sword and a long dagger, he ducked and weaved while pressing his own cold mannered and persistent attacks. Then as he exploited a opening in the axe wielders defence, and buried his sword in the guts of his foe a flash of pain blossomed in his left side.
As the dying man impaled upon his blade gurgled blood and spasemed he felt blood trickle down from a long but shallow cut across his left leg, accepting the price of the kill h just had made he did not pull his sword out of the still warm body it sat in. but instead drew one of his pistols and without taking time to properly aim presses the trigger hard.
The gunpowder ignited and a heartbeat later all the sounds of the now chaotic tavern is drowned out by the roar of the weapon. The smell of sulphur and the wet sickening sound as the heavy lead ball catches the sword man that had wounded him in the shoulder, and sent him crashing to the floor while clutching his ruined shoulder.
It was then that the leader of this band of violent and downright unpleasant men stepped fourth and looked the one that had disposed of his comrades so brutally over.
“Fine showmanship I must say, although if you wished to join us for some relatively easy gold I can think of several other ways that you could have done so, instead of murdering some of the lads. And making a invalid of poor Ingvar there” said the rather massive and quite unpleasant looking leader said as he stood with feet apart and a hand resting on the hilt of a very well used cavalry sable.
“I have no wish for any of your ill gotten gold, the only thing I am interested in is the price that stands on the head of you and your fellow drunkards.” the grey haired fiend said as he spat blood before wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.
“Quite the hard man ain’t you old man?” the leader said as he raised his sabre and pointed it at the lone bounty hunter. “ Whomever kills that old buzzard I will buy six bottles of brandy!” he said as if to spur his underlings onwards.
The remaining men that had not yet crossed blades with the bounty hunter began to spread out around him, and cutting any escape ways of as they grinned from ear to ear.


Sonja watched the bloodshed from the back of the room, and where not amused by what she just had witnessed. It was not that she hated or could not stand the sight of blood and violence, in fact it was a very well guarded secret of hers that she took much satisfaction in watching men and women die for crimes or betrayals committed.
But she did not need her guide and a man she had begun to develop a sense of respect for dying in front of her, torn apart by a bunch of savages armed to the teeth.
With one slender hand she drew her rapier and with the other her curved dagger and slipped towards the circle of mercenaries that where busy glaring bloody murder at the soon to be dead bounty hunter that where busy fending of a series of brutal attacks from several of their comrades.
Like a lioness stalking a grassing antelope she picked her first target when she was half way across the common room.
And then with the speed of a snake striking a mouse she lunged forwards and buried the curved dagger held in her right hand deep in the burly man that held a blood stained sword in one hand.
The blade bit him just below the neck and made him almost yelp in surprise and pain before slumping down onto the already bloodstained floor.
Before his comrades had time to react she wasted no time in engaging a second man, but this one had seen her coming and parried her initial trust with a smack of his own rapier before returning the favour and delivering a series of rapid jabs and strikes at her.
But if he saw her as just a noble woman with some skill with a rapier he was gravely mistaken.
For as he pressed the attack once more a sharp pain blossomed in his groin, and he felt his feet start to give way.
“Oh bloody hell, killed by a damnable hag of all things” he muttered as the return blow sliced his throat open and a fine mist of red filled the air before his dying eyes.
As Sonja lowered her rapier to better grip the hilt a blow that knocked the wind out of her, and sent her flying backwards struck her. Her eyes watered and her left hand hurt like hell as she struggled to regain her senses when she realised just what had struck her.
Looming overhead was a absolute giant of a man armed with a great two handed axe raised to deliver the killing blow.
She barely managed to roll to one side as the axe fell and cleaved the solid oak table in two, gasping for air she got to her feet and felt noting but cold dread grip her hearth.
For a smell she knew all to well seemed to fill the very air around her, her foe on the other hand did not seem phased by the stench of wet dog that had suddenly filled the room and assumed it was the courage of the woman in front of him giving out. But she knew the odour all too well,
“Scared eh little beauty, lay down that tooth pick and I will show you a good time before you die alongside your bastard over there eh?” he said grinning and revealing yellow teeth.

As he had spoken those words a eerie sound reached the ears of all those assembled in the now bloodstained and chaotic common room.
It sounded like someone dragged a set of knifes across glass, followed by a deep and unearthly mournful howl that froze the blood in the veins of all those that heard its tune.
Then the large glass window that faced out towards the courtyard of the inn exploded as something was hurled trough it with great force.
The few that remained in the tavern dove to all sides to avoid the shower of razor sharp glass and the bloody form that slid to a halt.

Sebastian had avoided the storm of glass and picked himself up from the floor, he noticed that most of his foes also had managed to do just that. But for now it seemed the will or interest in the fight had been whisked away by this interruption.
As one of the ones that had been near to the now ruined window, and also the bloody figure on the floor started to edge towards it, with steel in hand the evening took a definitive turn for the worse.
For as the man knelt down beside the figure on the floor something that resembled a creature from the deepest pits of hell itself sprung into view, and wrapped its massive paws around the man before with a tortured howl ripping the man apart and tossing the gory chunks aside in a shower of blood and the horrid death cry of the man.
While the life blood of the already dead stable hand and the now dismember sell swords still dripping from its wicked looking claws the beast snarled and revealed a maw filled with yellow teeth and a pink tongue.
Its eyes smouldered with bale-fire and a unearthly hunger mixed a bestial cunning that was not of this world as it stood there for a moment, as if to allow these weak and feeble things that surrounded it to behold its unholy form.

Bar fight! I enjoyed this playful slap and tickle and appearance of a werewolf right when it's needed. Though I have my doubts on weather even Sonja can tame this beast.

Have a read through as once or twice you expalined things twice like 'he said'.

'The man behind me will soon catch an unfortunate case of death!'

Best line so far.

 Necroagogo wrote:
'The man behind me will soon catch an unfortunate case of death!'

Best line so far.

Well glad you enjoyed it,