Fine Dining [Ric]

[Anonymous]

The two men were silent as they moved about the camp with haste, carrying between them a weary looking woman.

Held on either side by the burly guards- one quite tall, the other a bit on the short side- her feet dragged through the soil, head hanging limp and swaying on either side. A small amount of blood drained from her temple. Her clothes were ragged and hung loosely from her thin body, obvious signs of a peasant or traveler. Her carriers grunted with fatigue, as darkness closed in around them, hanging on the edges of the campfire. They approached three horses bound outside an ornate but modest, circular tent, lit from the inside by candles and held by a pole through the middle.

The woman mumbled incoherently before the guards carried her within the rosy tent, their swords at their hips brushing away the tent flaps, which only swallowed them once again. With a final effort, they sat her against the pole, grabbed a nearby coil of rope, and began to bind her.

Bartholomew, the taller one, noticed the grimace on his partner's face. He understood, for he felt the same. "It would have died sooner or later," he muttered, trying to reassure his friend and himself. He called the woman 'it'- like a cattle or a chicken. That's all she was now. "There isn't another town for miles, and she hasn't got any money anyway."

The other, Cargan, nodded curtly. "Yeah," he breathed. Still, he was the one who had seen the suprise on this woman's face when he knocked her unconscious; and he knew what would become of her in a minute's time.

Satsified that she was tightly bound, the two rose. A third man, his height somewhere right in between the two others, entered the tent silently- though his friends could sense him there. The candles darkened, and the man, his eyes like ice, watched the woman with a strange hunger. The rest of his face was hidden from a dark scarf.

"We'll be out hunting, Lord Galanus," said Bartholomew shortly. The guards turned on heel and left the tent, leaving the cold man and the woman alone.

The man knelt infront of the woman, sniffing cautiously at her. Weary and dazed, she looked into his eyes, and the frighteningly pale skin around them. Slowly, she began to stir, writhing in her bounds and kicking her feet. Galanus grabbed one leg and forced it to the ground with a satisfying snap.

"You smell.. delicious."

The woman screamed.

[Anonymous]

Coco was miles within the forest, tracking the smoke from a fire. It was obvious to her after reaching the destination slowly reigning in her horse. A tent and even a chart implied nobles or traders.
These two men where carrying something, a person or a pile of clothing maybe into the tent. The third guy waited his posture protruding impatience, his clothing of finer stature. Now all she had to do was to thread past him towards the chart.

 The third man went inside so she ran quietly; reaching the chart before the other two came out. Her hands moved quick and silent, browsing the contents of the chart.
By her account this implied nobleman, not a single item worthy of selling unless used and poorly handled cloth had risen in popularity.

The two men came out of the tent both armed with swords yet they abandoned the entrance quickly and rode off. A woman's scream pierced the air a few seconds later. As she came closer she heard a lot of weird sounds, most likely implying rape of some kind. She hoped his attention was not at the entrance as she flickered the bottom and took a peak inside.

[Anonymous]

The sight was much more gruesome than the theif could have guessed. Blood drained along the grassy floor, almost reaching the entrance and pouring in all directions, glistening like wine in light of the dim candles. The man's face was focused around the woman's neck- and instantly, her strangled screams were cut silent and her body fell limp. He moved with a strange speed, like a lion feasting on its prey. And that seemed to be the exact case here.

Perhaps the theif spying on him had made a sound (which seemed unlikely); or perhaps the man sensed her through some strange intuition. Either way, he slowed the violent movements and eventually stopped. After a moment, he raised his head.

Over his shoulder, the woman- or what was left of her- was visible. Her head had been devoured, cracked bones lying on the woman's lap. Her neck and right shoulder were almost entirely gone, the forearm hanging by a bloody thread. The man turned his head towards the entrance, icy eyes staring, his abnormally large jaw displaying a fine array of knife-like teeth.

[Anonymous]

The scenery was grotesque, even the scariest of werewolf stories at least left the gory parts out but here it was a scene of death that could freeze any sane persons heart over. She was about to turn and dart but the practiced art of thievery would have it otherwise her eyes still scanned the environment for anything valuable while her mind was frozen in shock.
And there it was. Even with the dim lighting and the displayed corpse, even with the shock and horror of such a scene she found her target, a medium sized noble's purse, obviously stuffed full of gold coins. She quickly span, a net to seal the entrance hardly making a sound compared with the creature within.

As he stopped feasting her heart started racing, the thrill of a chase as in a manner of seconds whatever it was should according to her expectations try to come darting out.
She had her target now.

Expecting the webbing to hold and as such she expected herself to be faster. To the sides of the tent quicker then lightning she drew her knife, cutting the ropes holding it up, now all it needed was a yank at the front entrance from a roused nobleman trying to get out and all she had to do was cut a small hole in the side to claim her prize.

[Anonymous]

The cannibal's nostrils flare, searching for the scent. Yes.. very close. He could practically taste the salty sweat rolling down the figure. He glanced back at the mutilated corpse tied to the pole of the tent. It could wait a moment.

A flicker of shadow on the tent wall made his head snap back to the entrance. In one lightning fast reflex, the man shot up and sprinted toward the tent flaps shoulder-first, aiming to tackle any opponent and sent them soaring. What he didn't anticipate, was the trap. Small thin squares of net wrapped around him, binding his legs and knotting him in a bundled heap. The momentum moved him forward further, and in a flash of movement, he was on the ground and the campfire was flying in all directions underneath him. An beastly cry of pain tore from his lips, screeching through the air like metal on metal. He rolled and writhed, feeling the sun burning in his side. Pure rage and hate flowed within him, and a longing to rip more flesh.

--

The horses stopped, grinding their hooves into the ground, whinnying in pain as the cry of an animal in pain reached their sensitive ears. Even Bartholomew and Cargan winced at the screeching cry. Glancing at one another, they turned reluctantly and forced their steeds on a charge back toward the camp.

[Anonymous]

She had her prize now, quick hands spiderlike hands came in handy more often than not as a beastly cry of pain and lust for flesh filled the air. It would have frozen people dead in their tracks but not her.
She was busy giggling in joy of seeing that her perfectly placed trap with a huge success rate to the boot had worked once again.

That netting could hold an elephant so he wasn't going anywhere, if anything he would be jumping around as if it was a potato sack race. Not intending to stick around to see the show she darted off, the time for subtlety was gone now, huge strides she took as if running in the air at an incredible speed for a human.

Horses where still faster but she had brought the best horse money could buy before fleeing Arca. Sadly she wasn't the best at tying it up while going hunting, the scream had sent the horse running like it had the devil between its legs.
"Never trust a horse to do anything these days." She said silently cursing it and its offspring. As hooves approached from the nearby road she hid within the forest, silently awaiting their arrival. Hoping she would be able to run off with one of their horses.

[Anonymous]

The hooves neared and eventually, two chestnut mares emerged from the trees, and balked in fear at the sight of the writhing man. The guards dismounted, looking about the scene with shock. The tent had deflated, vaguely revealing some various objects and the corpse, currently soaking the tent with blood. Galanus's own horse had fled during the commotion too, the branch it was tied to broken. And finally, the man, now crouching on all fours, panting like a wounded beast, yanking a charred stick from his side.

Bartholomew drew his sword and knelt beside the cannibal, and, strangely enough, began talking to it. Cargan gripped the reigns of their horses tightly, both of which trying to escape. He began to tie them to a nearby tree, soothing them with a very calm voice- for a guard.

"Galanus." Bartholomew watched the man with stern eyes, dark as onyx. "Galanus.. breath. You've eaten enough to last at least a week. Get a hold of yourself."

The man's laboured breathing lessened somewhat. That was when Bartholomew finally noticed the net, stood, and raised his sword.

"Cargan."

"Huh?"

"Company."

[Anonymous]

Ha what dolts they where compared to her she thought as she quickly got around onto the riders blindside. Silently without a sound she ran towards their horses on all fours keeping an eye on them, her pulse increasing just as the thrill got bigger.
It seemed as they both cared for him. Ha, even werewolf had offspring with people and this guy was more than just a monster, he was a noble too. The coin in his purse was probably peasant blood money, it sure as hell weighted as such.

As the idiot swordsmen had finally noticed the elaborate yet thin webbing she had spun she jumped one of their horses, the spiderlike spring in her legs allowed for a rather high yet powerful leap.

She hit the saddle with carefully timed precision. Her laughter was already loose while halfway in the jump as if to taunt them while she rode off. Then the horse bucked her off and the "master thief" was sprawled on her backside, the air knocked out of her lungs.

The world was not so funny anymore.

[Anonymous]

In mere seconds, a long, slender blade rest along the theif's neck. "Move, and I'll let my horse have a go trying to sit on you."

"What is it, Cargan?"

"A girl. A young one, too."

Bartholomew sighed from beside Galanus, before turning back to the man. By this time, however, he sat cross-legged on the ground, spitting blood out of his mouth. He had managed to solve his way out of the net.

"Bartholomew," Galanus mumbled wearily in a very human voice, holding his side in attempt to stem a steady stream of blood from the fire log that had stabbed him. His face had changed. His jaw was thinner- much thinner- and refined. His skin was still pale, but normally so, probably just from the fatigue and loss of blood. His eyes hadn't changed though, and his fangs remained, only slightly shorter. He swayed a little on the spot.

As he spoke, Bartholomew approached his own horse- the one the theif hadn't tried to mount- and took a hefty pack from its saddle. "You'd think, little girl, that what you saw might have scared you off and left you with good enough stories to tell your girl friends." He glanced at her. "Now, as my friend here is very tired, and you've left us in quite a mess, I can't exactly let you run off and tell our location to anyone. We certainly don't need anyone knowing about what happened here. Understand me?" By this time, he had nearly finished bandaging Galanus's side. "And should you disagree.. Well, Cargan here wouldn't mind parting your head from your shoulders, I'm sure."

With a sigh, Bartholomew stood, helping Galanus up and supporting him on his good side. Galanus mumbled something in his ear, who then let him go to stumble into the tent, half of which remained standing. Bartholomew gripped his sword loosely and pointed it at the theif as well.

"So. Care to camp with us tonight, missy?"

[Anonymous]

She coughed lightly as the dust of dirt flew about her face a blade tightly hugging her neck.
Why had she been so stupid, curse her luck, she should have fled on foot. Still angry at herself yet keeping herself still because of the sword.
"Sure, I will stay for the night. Just point that sword elsewhere so I can get up."
She said angrily, hoping the purse she had stolen wouldn't be mentioned. It was attached to her cape pocket and quite hidden from plain sight.
The guy lifted her up and took her to the campfire, clearly the theft had not yet been noticed but that was just a matter of time a gold purse that big didn't go long unnoticed.
In face of this new adventure, she let her heart race once more. She also unbuttoned her cloak and folded it silently yet neatly as to not let anything jingle within it. Like a pillow she sat on it next to the campfire, carefully arranging her hair with her hands, trying to get all the dirt out of it. Preparing herself for the questions that where to come.

[Anonymous]

And many questions there would be.

Cargan sat by the remains of the campfire as well, which had been smothered quite a bit when Galanus fell. Keeping his sword on his lap, its point staring at the theif, he picked up a nearby fallen branch and began poking and prodding the fire back to life. It responded quite quickly, roaring back from the dead in a cheery flare. Cargan sighed and relaxed. He was confident he could move faster than this little girl, should she try to escape; but Bartholomew didn't seem to think the same. He stood behind her, sword resting an inch or two away from her neck.

"I am Bartholomew, and this is Cargan. I trust you've already met our Lord Galanus." He went silent a moment, then continued. "Listen. If you're lost, we have no problem with returning you to whatever place you came from. But for now.. You'll just have to wait until we can leave." As finished speaking, the soft whisper of the tent flaps called from the side. Cargan looked up, and seemed relieved.

Lord Galanus stood in the entranceway, carrying a sheathed longsword. He had changed, now bearing a dark blue tunic laced with silver thread and gleaming buttons and held by a thick black belt with a few pouches attached. The same colour of breeches were tucked inside a pair of black riding boots, which shone spotlessly. His face was clean of blood, allowing a mess of black hair to stick in every direction restlessly. The dark blue and black scarf from earlier rest around his neck again, covering his mouth and a portion of his thin nose. He paused there, then sat by the fire opposite of the theif, wincing as he did so.

A moment of silence passed, except for the crackling of the fire. Galanus unsheathed the sword he had been carrying, and lay it across his lap. Grabbing a smooth stone from his pouch, he began to sharped the blade, proceeding to ignore the new girl.

"..And, er. Where are you from? We'll return you safe and sound in the morning. And, what, obviously, were you trying to do? Messing with a group of innocent travellers." Innocent. Bartholomew wished he hadn't said that all of a sudden.

[Anonymous]

She smiled at the word, innocence was the way she had escaped slavery, innocence was pure, innocence where the essence of a little girl. She looked at him with big black eyes, intentionally letting them absorb the smoke feigning tears. She knew her Arca'n dialect would be revealed later on as the conversation moved on but didnt care much for it.
 
Her coat was designed to hide the mouth and as such she didn't need to do much to convey feelings, all she had to do was change her vocals, hiding childlike curiosity and the thrill of actually sitting on this dangerous man's purse, with a slight undertone of despair, yet anger.
"I know what I saw. You feed him." Letting her eyes wander towards Galanus. "Something to eat that doesn't remind me of, that." She laid emphasis on the last word there, glancing back at the tent.  "And a safe ride to Ketra, would be enough to ensure my silence." She shrugged "Who would believe in this?"

[Anonymous]

At the little thief girl's words, Galanus slowed the sharpening of his sword, his eyes distantly staring into the darkness of the woods. Cargan shot him a glance, then turned his gaze back on their prisoner.

Bartholomew, however, pretended not to notice. "Ketra. Perfect." This was implied with heavy sarcasm. "And for your information, little girl, these are exactly the type of rumours we're trying to escape." He put one hand on his hip and lowered his sword. Kicking up dirt as he passed, Bartholomew sat on the final side of the fire between the thief and Galanus, closing the circle. Just like Cargan, he kept his sword pointed at her from his lap. A quick thrust could send the sharp steel straight through her side.

With a final sigh, he turned to Galanus. "Greg.. We've taken six months to get that damn hunter off our tail. One word out of- this little menace- and we're traveling low again."

If Galanus heard Bartholomew, he didn't seem to take any notice. Instead, he turned his gaze onto the thief. His icy eyes trapped her, staring like spotlights through the waving air over the fire. In a hoarse, quite voice, he finally acknowledged her.

"What you saw in that tent, was not me."

[Anonymous]

Her spider senses where tingling, every inc of her body in solid preparation should he ever trust the sword at her, she had forgotten to mind where her eyes wandered off to and was soon rewarded when Galanus finally turned his head towards her, his icy graze sent chills down her back. she kept the stare, savouring it as pieces clicked to place.

She was hooked now, hell bent on finding out more even at the risk of her life. "If it isn't you then who is it? How do you live with yourself?"
She could barely contain herself as she had asked these two question a thousand other questions arose she barely managed to contain herself had it not been for the golden goodies in her cape pillow she would have gone up to him and asked them while flailing her arms around, giggling with exitement.

 Instead she folded her arms, commanding her body to settle down, thinking of a roaring fire within her head that she fed all the unanswered questions, she wanted to hear his answers to these two questions and didnt dare inquire further in fear of what she might learn.

[Anonymous]

At the question, Galanus merely stared coldly before Cargan, for once, intervened.

"Think of it like a medical condition. The body needs certain things to live. Water, for instance. If you're lost in the desert and you stumble upon an oaisis, you would drink from it, wouldn't you? Of course you would. Everyone wants to live. However, what if there were only enough water for you, let's say, and not another stranger in the same predicament as yourself? One of you would die in the end anyway; and in the end, the more valuable being gets the worm." He shuffled, removing his gauntlets and holding out his hands to the fire for warmth. That's what I keep tellingt myself, anyway, he thought.

Bartholomew turned from his spot to look at the collapsed tent with a large red stain along one side. Laying his sword on the ground, he rose, and began taking down the tent.

Galanus cleared his throat, looking away from the thief again to watch the fire flicker and roll over itself in tongues of flame. "That woman would have died within a few days, and there are no towns within miles of here. She was a fool to have been this far into the heart of the forest by herself, anyway. Had I not taken her, I would have run to the nearest person I could smell and take them, instead." His eyes snapped up sharply towards her. "That probably would have been you. And don't tell me you think an aging, starved woman has more opportunity in her life than you." That freezing gaze narrowed. "Which makes me wonder.. what a young girl like yourself is doing in a place like this, in a get-up like that." Then, as plainly as if filling out professional forms, he asked, "Name?"

By this time, Bartholomew had taken down the tent leaving only an erect pole, and was wrapping up the remains of the corpse inside of it. It was beginning to stink horribly.

[Anonymous]

"The name is Carol. I was on my way to Ketra looking for my father. And now thanks to not minding my own business, I have lost my horse." She looked away into the campfire, bored because she knew more questions from her side would be more than suspicious. She had told a small lie there. Her father had run off to Ketra but her true intentions of going there was not to look for him.

The only one she had to thread careful around was that nobleman these two people served she didn't know if the monster granted him anything in human form. She had to ask him hoping he would be honest. "Do you benefit any from being a monster? Like werewolves?"

The smell of corpse crept into her nose, that old woman had been his food and he had been hers in a way at least. She wanted to puke like any simpleton but kept her calm silently feeding the living flame in her imagination. "Are you going to use that or are you content with the pointless act of scaring me?" she said, defiant at Cargan hoping he would remove it.
 
 For now she had avoided giving them anything but her first name, these people where clearly not from her hometown. Rumour's about her probably had not come this far but she took no chances at least when she could avoid them.
Her black tunic was custom tailored; she had spent most of her gold on the fabric so that it would keep her warm at nights, but still look like a nobles thin silk tunic only a closer view would reveal the fine layers of wool and leather underneath.

The added benefit was that half her face wasn't visible. It had served her well during her last month in Arca and she had kept it clean by herself with a little help from her mother who spent her days washing to earn honest money. HA! She wanted to laugh out loud every time she thought of that sentence. Honest money. Money was the mercy everyone lived at. How you obtained it mattered not.

[Anonymous]

Galanus paused at her question, in some sort of deep thought. Before he could reply, Bartholomew hefted the tent and corpse up into his arms, and began to carry it away from the camp. "I'm going to bury this bugger," he called over his shoulder before disappearing into the threatening dark of the woods.

At the mention of her horse, however, Cargan's mouth formed a small 'O'. He then looked to the fire, seeming ashamed, his face reddening. Galanus noticed this and watched him intently before he spoke. "Your horse, Galanus.. It broke free and bolted in the commotion." A tired sigh escaped Galanus from behind his mouth-mask.

"..We can keep an eye out for the horses in the morning and while we move. But it's too dark, and they would be too far off by now. All we can do is hope nothing else finds them first." Galanus turned to the thief. "And as for your, question, Carol.." He hesitated, studying her with a strange amount of interest. Then, he replied quite simply, "No. It does not." It was a lie; he performed better than a regular human at most things. But to the thief who had just managed to trap him and nearly run off, he didn't want her seeing him as any threat. Not unless she decided she was in the clear to escape.

The rustling of bushes signalled Bartholomew's return, his hands empty and brushing a dusting of dirt off his pants. Seeming bored with Carol already, he made his way over to the taller of the two remaining horses and began to groom her with the brushes stored in her saddlebag.

"Catch."

A sleeping bag was flung in her direction from Cargan.

[Anonymous]

"Thanks." she said, carefully examining it. She folded it out and smelled it before she jumped into it. Using the woollen cape she had just sat on as pillow thinking on what the man had said.
He was obviously lying, any ordinary man would not take a wound like that and not still be in agonising pain.
She would pretend to sleep gripping her two knifes prepared to cut the bag open at moments notice, sharpening her ears trying to peer into any conversation between the three. She eventually dozed off as they went silent.

[Anonymous]

After Carol had settled, the other two followed suit.

Cargan sighed, resting his head down in his own sleeping bag, letting his muscles relax. He'd been helping Galanus for years now, but every time some little part of the ritual went haywire, unease gripped his mind with firm claws. He felt this was something he'd never get used to; but he knew whom his friend truly was very well, and that was not someone he was likely to abandon soon. He looked around at the messy head of black hair nearby, then shuffled back, leaving his sword on the ground beside him as sleep took over.

Bartholomew glanced at the girl. His sword was at his hip, and he felt no need for it. His face remained expressionless, though his mind was sent reeling with thoughts and questions and worries, none of which would be resolved tonight. Flicking horse hair into the air around him, he kept himself busy for the first watch.

--

"Oi, you. If you don't eat stew, you're eating stew, because we eat stew." Cargan's foot lightly prodded Carol's side, trying to bring her back to any sign of life. Behind him, Bartholomew was busy strapping the two horses to a wooden cart they had hidden in the bushes laden with supplies, and Galanus was sipping from a small wooden bowl. A heavy cauldron bubbled over the still-breathing fire.

[Anonymous]

"Huh?" Coco woke up from a prod at the sides, hair was ripe with morning dew, her hands had dropped to her sides the knives dangling out of their shafts. She quickly pushed them back in and rubbed her eyes.
Embarrassed because she had fallen asleep and ripe with shame she got out of the sleeping sack using it to dry her hair, neatly folding it together. After laying it by her side she got up on two. Accepting the bowl of stew that was handed to her and pulled down the tunics facecover tucking it under her chin.

At first she tasted it, the meat was salty and overall it was good stew. then it hit her tounge, a small sensation of spice. Her mother had always made stew, yet most of it had been a watery mush of whatever they had gotten their hands on. This stew was rich with different stuff so she ate in a slow manner, savouring the taste.
 
Once she got to Ketra loads of different meals like this awaited. She giggled at the thought of Galanus's money being spent on elaborate meals.
Maybe once she got to Ketra, she could even get a mug of ale without the tavern lady jumping her bones about where or who she had gotten the money from.

What was she going to do besides that?
She looked in the direction of Galvanus. Repeating the information she had gathered on him.
This man was a noble; at least the seasonings in the stew and the inventory in his chart gave a slight indication at that. She knew his secret, how much could she get out of him?

It had suddenly occurred to her that this was it. No matter what this man ate for dinner each week or even if he devoured people each night. He could get her towards a better life. A life that money alone could not buy. But, she would have to be carefull. The timing for souch a question would have to be better. She had to get more information about him. with a board smile around her face she asked him. "So. Galanus, what do you tell your wife before you go out to feed?"