Tales from Brushfire – The Hunter and The Thief of the Night – Part 1

8th of June, 1821 AF
    Outskirts of New Muriccio, South Vespuccia
 

I never got used to South Vespuccian summers. Mare-Civitan winds cooled my coastal home, and even Fort Ste. Ermina had a dry heat in the summers. Here, unfortunately, the humidity felt like a wall one had to walk through everywhere they went. I felt it soon after getting off the boat and my fur quickly became matted and gained several pounds of water weight. I looked more like a street urchin caught in the rain and less like a Combat Engineer.

    In years past I had designed many of the currently employed weapons of the Venture Company, a mercenari group assigned to protect both the city-state of Venture and it’s holdings along the border with Aquitar, the power hungry country to our north. Since my younger years I had also begun studying the art and science of battle reconstruction. Many conflicts had happened with the Aquitarans and it was my duty to determine the size and makeup of enemy forces, after they had attacked outlying villages or wiped out some of our smaller forces patrolling the area.
   

I was unsure of why my services had been requested in New Muriccio. The last Jaguero warlord had been hunted down about a decade ago, leaving no foe to fight on the continent. I was unsure, until I saw the first body baking in the sun.

I had been led up the hillside upon which the port town had been built upon. Though it felt like we had climbed up the stone steps for a league or so, the heat and humidity did not relent. When we reached the landing, the smell of death was already hanging in the air, likely expedited by the scorching heat. No matter how many times you view violence you never truely become immune to it’s nauseating effects. The only trick I had learned was to focus on thinking and doing my job. My analysis of the scene told me only bad news about the culprit. The weapons used were identical and always paired; the wounds shared symmetrical patterns. The jagged edges of the cuts indicated well used, badly kept knives or swords.

I surveyed each body outside as quickly and thoroughly as I dared. I circled the outpost taking a moment to view the surroundings as well. No other structures were built here. Trees had been cut down around it to give archers a chance to take down assailants. The guards outside had not been given that chance. Each still gripped a bow over their shoulder unprepared for an attack. One was even facing toward the tower, close to a window, possibly talking to someone inside when he was slain. Our killers were fast, to dispatch the half dozen soldiers outside without one able to put arrow to string.

Stepping inside, out of the beating sun, I surveyed the remaining bodies. Many were in different states of undress. The Guard-post served as sleeping quarters for the soldiers who operated it. Only one Civitan weapon had been drawn and It’s owner lay slumped in a corner, never to move again. I picked the sword up gingerly, studying the liquid that coated it. Instantly obvious was that it wasn't blood, at least as I understood it. He was covered in blood other than his own, and I guessed this was the soldier that had been conversing with the guard outside. Perhaps the others were too slow to fight back the haze of sleep to comprehend why he was covered in blood, or, why he had drawn a weapon, what little good it did him.

The polite coughing of my liaison Chequal slowly entered my realm of attention, and I turned to look up at him. “We have one checkpoint left…..un-accosted, but with the lateness of your ship into port, we wont make it there before sundown.” The Capybara shifted slightly attempting to stand with the least violence in his view. “Any conclusions before we make for the next likely target?”

The outpost was gruesome. I couldn’t blame him for feeling squeamish. “I take it the usual predators down here don’t leave such a mess?” I’d found that making light of the situation, while callous, often helped shake soldiers out of shock. It didn’t work with Chequal and he quickly fled the room to relieve himself. If I’d had the stature of a Capybara instead of a Chipmunk I would have patted his back as he wretched his Vespuccian cuisine onto the cobblestone. I fell back on sharing my conclusions.

“The assailants have only hit military targets and no bodies were taken, so they are not predators in the usual sense. The weapons used are not made of metal, the wounds are too jagged and wide, stone or talon is more likely.” I dropped the sword after taking a bit of the ‘blood’ between my gloved fingers. It was a lightly translucent grey substance. I could not comprehend what it belonged to.

My bodyguard Enrico, assigned to me before I left Fort Ste. Ermina, still crouching over a puddle where I left him, took this moment to join the investigation. “Assailant. Not Assailants.” He stated succinctly while trailing his finger from the doorway of the outpost out towards the jungle. “A single blood trail leaves the scene. If there were more foes; two outcomes: Either other attackers would have been injured in the tight quarters, or none of the guard-mice would have had time to draw weapons. A single attacker taking out sleeping or tired targets leaves enough time for one soldier to strike once.” I nodded in agreement, purchasing the Sons of Sardus mercenari group was a wise decision for Venture Company. “Two other issues though.” He stuck a finger into the puddle. It was filled with the same liquid from the sword. “This isn’t mammalian or reptilian blood. We’re dealing with something new…or old.”

He paused, letting the unspoken “and issue two?” hang in the summer air, “Judging from the amount of blood lost, but no corpse? This creature is big and tough.”

There was silence for a minute after he finished his corrections. The Sardan tracker had been to this continent more than I, and his experience would prove useful. More-so than the other mercenaries I had brought. With little detail given in the request from the Governor, I had picked a team with a variety of skills. With the evidence before us, I knew we would be tracking this beast into the jungles before long. “The rest of our entourage is waiting at the docks still. Send word for them to meet us at the other outpost.” Chequal nodded to my command and signaled to one of the city guards that had escorted us. The soldier nodded and ran off down the stairs.

To Be continued…