The Way of the Hunt - The pack moves

[Vogelens]

It was time to move. Kara had decided to move the hunting grounds of her pack, it had been on her mind for many days now. The woods near Thelnam were not sufficient enough to support them and it would mean the pack would not be able to grow. The two young brothers, the survivors of a rival pack who joined her instead were uncertain still. They knew these grounds, it was their home. But, they trusted their alpha. Why would they not? Their alpha walked on two legs at times too, which was a strange thing but she was still a wolf. She had shown she knew how to hunt and she cared for the pack. She was strong and stern, but kind to them when needed. They trusted her. The pack truly had become a family.

The march was a long one, a strange one. The four of them moved near the roads, not quite on the roads. Kara had taken the shape of a wolf herself to walk with them as they moved, and people would get jumpy if a wolfpack would be seen on the roads as they travelled. Especially at night, with stories of predators coming from the woods to eat them. No, they avoided the road, but it did lead in the same direction they were moving. Both pack and road moved south.

They passed the settlement called Outentown and moved through the farmlands. They did not care for the livestock that got nervous in their pressence, it was understandable. Prey should get nervous when predators are near. But the prey was not this pack's target. At least, not all of them. They did kill one of the cows. Kara avoided farmlands and the livestock there when it came to hunting for food, but her pack needed to eat for the long journey ahead, they needed the strength. Their meal was a hearty one, and little was wasted of the fat cow, merely the bones and some gore and blood were left for the farmer to find in the morning. He would panick and there might be a witchhunt, adventurers and militia alike calling for wolves to be hunted as they posed a danger to people. Kara did not much care for that, her pack would be long gone by then.

The farmlands of Outentown were cleared and the four wolves moved further south. The Huntress knew these paths well, she had travelled them often. They would pass the camp travellers often gathered and where she had met the Lion for the first time. As they passed through, Kara did make sure to have her pack keep a distance. She saw people at the campfire, though from her distance. She figured these were travellers seeking warmth and shelter for the night, though Kara could not quite make out who they were, the distance was too far.

The huntress did stop briefly, and raised her nose to the sky. She then howled into the night. It was a blood curdling howl, the howl that clearly meant a predator was nearby. The three other wolves joined in and howled with her, a chorus of cries that ringed through the night. Kara could have argued that it was a warning for the travellers to not dwell too far from their fire as predators hunted that night. Perhaps the Huntress could have claimed that this was a reminder to them that the wilds are dangerous so they would take care on their journeys. She might have twisted it as a greeting to fellow travellers on the road.

But in truth, she was being a bitch. There was no purpose to the howl, she merely felt like making the travellers jump and nervous. Perhaps it was due to having taken on the aspect and form of the wolf this night? Perhaps, but amused her greatly nonetheless. The howling did not last too long, Kara let it die out in the night before moving on once more. She and her pack still had much distance to cover.

They reached the small settlement near the plains at dawn. Whitesome Bridge the townsfolk called it, and it was a name that would have to do. A name like that would not say much to the three others in her pack, but they would only pass through anyway. The huntress had hoped to pass through at nightfall, but there was no such luck for this part of the journey. The first rays of light were shown through the trees already and the people who lived there were stirring awake already. Kara pushed on nonetheless, they would cross the wooden bridge. She knew of other places to cross the river, where they could swim or had shallow waters to wade through but it would be out of the way, and her pack was getting tired. Swimming through the currents would be too much to ask of them, now.

As the four wolves moved along the homes, a woman's cry sounded not far from them. A dog's barking followed nearby, along with the shouting of a man not too long after. The pack had been spotted, and a wolfpack moving so close would be cause for concern. The stories about wolves killing humans were not all untrue, after all. But this pack had no interest in the humans, or the small pup. Kara silenced the pup with an intimidating snarl as they passed by. The wolves kept going, to cross the bridge and brave the river, with the help of the dead wood the humans placed there.

Would the humans here share the tales of what happened this morning? A pack of wolves, led by one with black fur that passed by their town just as human travellers heading to Filur would? Would they see their pack passing through as a blessing because no blood was spilled, or would it be seen as a curse, that predators would come so close to their homes? Kara thought about it for a while, even as she let her pack rest near the other side of the river. They earned the small rest and the four of them took their fill of the cool waters as well. Long walks can make anyone thirsty.

The respite was brief and the huntress led her pack onwards. It was not long until they reached ther Lion's Plains. The sun had crawled up higher in the sky, casting its soft warmth on the cool soil. Kara knew the plains well, they were her home briefly as well before the Lion settled in. Many moons passed since then and her pack grew from two to four since then. The four wolves made their way across the grasslands, though unlike with the small settlement, their trek was not without bloodshed. One of the deer that had dared to move across the plains fell victim to the hungry wolves, and they feasted on its meat.

These plains were watched by the Lion, but Kara did not care much to hide the fact they hunted there. These wildlands were just like any other, for a hungry predator. Not much of the kill was wasted though, the wolves feasted on their price. And what remained would be a feast for the birds that made the plains their home. Though there were not many birds in the sky that morning. Just the one, a large eagle that circled the grasslands in a long, wide circular pattern. It also meant the Lion knew they were there, though Kara never had an intention to sneak and hide. She respected the Lion, but he was not her leader or alpha. After the feast, Kara pressed the pack on. The black wolf scoffed slightly before moving on. He could at least have landed to greet them if he saw them.

After crossing the vast expanse of grasslands, the pack reached the outskirts of the settlement there, the town that the humans had named Filur. It meant they were close to their destination, but not quite yet. Kara moved onwards, crossing the outskirts and the farmlands. She kept her pack a healthy distance from the town itself and any people, but close enough to be seen. She wanted to be seen, and to have her pack be seen as she moved across the town. The huntress wanted the people to talk of her pack and to wonder what it meant. After all, she would not be just some nameless visitor this times, like all the times before. The sun stood high in the sky, there should be plenty of people to spot her from the distance during this midday.

The pack kept going, towards the woodlands west of the town. Their destination. These woodlands were wild, at least compared to the ones around Outentown, or that city. They would make good hunting grounds for her and her pack. The wolves did not go too far in the woods, yet. Kara led them to a good place of shelter where the three of them could rest, they earned it after the long journey. Kara herself could not rest yet, though. She had to move through the woods, to mark her territory. Her territory bordered the Lion's plains, and as much as she respected him, these woods would be /her/ hunting grounds. She had to make sure the Lion was aware of the border too.

And after all that work, she would have to visit the town too. But that would still wait, for now.

[Vogelens]

Kara would spend the days following her pack's journey to mark her hunting grounds and to properly claim the woods. The Bear-God would be respected of course, and Kara would work towards get at least an understand an alliance going. No bears were brought, that would not be the Beastmaster's way. But an offering of meat that she hunted would be given by the wolf, as a show of respect.

Kara would let her pack mostly leave the bears be. As long as they did not bother her she would not bother them, and she made sure her pack knew to treat them with a healthy respect as well. She would keep an eye on the activities that took place around the Bear's domain, that not too many bears would go that way. The forests, her hunting grounds now, could support only so many predators. Kara would prefer to make them grow and prosper to honour the eternal hunt rather than raze them or bleed them dry.

Audience with the Bear-God itself would be sought after if appropriate, though she would attend the Bear's Court not as a human like last time, but in the shape of a wolf. She had to represent herself and her pack properly, after all.

[Vogelens]

The howling of wolves would be more and more common at night, in the woods west of Filur. A pack of wolves, one that travelled from north across the plains had made their home there now. The huntress made it no secret to the people in the town, either. The pack moved in plain sight along the plains, and the howls at night hinted at it too.

Some of the townsfolk or travellers who dared to enter the woods or travel the roads cutting through the woodlands would also be gifted with storied about being watched on their walk near the trees. A wolfpack, or in some cases the lone member of the same pack keeping an eye on them. Still, despite that no blood of people was shed nor did the wolves act hostile or offered threat. Their interest was merely to keep an eye on their new domain and the visitors to it, it seemed.

Some tales might say that a wolf's howl hints at these beasts hunting, and in the case of a Beastmaster leading these predators it might not be far from the truth. These howls however were not for that. These howls came in response of the harsh winter, to any wolf in the woods, along the coastline, the foot of the mountains or even the plains who struggled or lost their pack. These howls were an invitation, to join Kara's pack. To thrive under her lead and become part of something greater, the thing wolves tend to yearn for.

[Vogelens]

Kara made her way into the town of Filur not long after her pack settled in. She figured the Lion would talk with the people and put them at ease regarding the wolfpack in the nearby woods, he was the diplomat and the one who enjoyed being amongst people more than she was. The Beastmaster had wanted to visit sooner but too much work was to be done in the forest itself and make sure her pack was at home there.

Kara picked one of the evenings to visit, a time where the Garrick's would be crowded with the townsfolk, to enjoy their ales and meads after a long day of work. She did like the tavern, it had a certain rustic charm to it she could appreciate. And of course, they served good ale. The huntress suspected ales in the city were watered down at least, or simply had a lack of care when they were made.

The huntress headed to the bar first, with her cowl brushed back to reveal her features. She did not seek anonymity this time like previous visits to the town, after all. Then again, her particular appearance might have drawn eyes before, there were not many like her. And she had been known to aid the town before, some moons ago and even recently. She helped save two Warswords once with the hin ranger, what was her name? Trish Winterbrooke, though Kara figured she would be dead somewhere by now. The ways of the wild are harsh, after all. And she was present when the townsfolk needed help with the Bear God. And then there were the Lion's words, if he indeed did speak in her favour. But Kara did not rely too much on that.

With an ale in her hand, Kara turned towards the townsfolk enjoying their own drinks. Her throat was cleared, and she made sure to draw attention to herself before adressing them. Her tongue was not that of a foreigner, Kara spoke to them in the Easting tongue. Though she had an accent as can be expected from one who is not a native speaker, she did speak the tongue like someone who was taught to by local people over the course of many moons, rather than from books or texts. Her voice was raised to carry through the common room of Garricks, and over the conversations of others.

"People of Filur. Hello." She paused to make sure she had the full attention of those who had not given it to her. "I am Kara. A huntress. Some may know me already, but many may not. You have a guardian watching over the plains, the Lion. The Lion and I are allies, and because of this I bring the favour of the Hunt to the nearby woodlands. These forests are now my hunting grounds and under my watch." Kara paused again. She figured not everyone would care about this, but she also figured these words had to be said before getting to the point. "The wilds are dangerous, you know this as well as I do. I am not a guardian, nor a protector like the Lion is. I am a Hunter. One who knows the Ways of the Wild and the way of survival." Kara let the words sink in, a smile on her lips. She then continued. "Any who seek the favour of the Hunt, or wish to learn more about hunting game to support their families or community can seek me out. To learn to live of the land more, with snares for small game or spear and knife for large game." There is another pause, as the huntress looked about the people who listen to her. She then continued in that Easting dialect. Her words were spoken with confidence, with a hint of authority when it came to the Hunt. The Hunt was her's, and her patron's domain after all and Kara knew this. Not everyone would approve of her patron, but it couldn't be denied that there were no better Hunters in the world. "If there are those who look for another to hunt game for them instead, we can make a fair bargain for this too. If I need to be approached, look for me in the woods. Or approach the Lion, he can carry words to me as well." Kara paused briefly again, before smiling some once more, raising her mug of ale lightly. "Or speak to me when I am here, enjoying the ale. We lack this in the wilds, and this one is one to visit the town for." A little bit of praise was given to Garrick, but Kara did enjoy the ale.

She took a swig of the drink, and let the words sink in and let the townsfolk go about their own business again, she had said what she needed to say. The Lion had spoken before about his work with the townsfolk, though the huntress did not care as much about it as he clearly did. That was his domain, to unite man and beasts. Kara did not care much about speeches and adressing crowds of people either, she had bad experiences with this in the past. Not all tend to take well to the Hunt, or one who embodies it. Many hunters were bloodthirsty ravagers, something she was not. She was a wolf. She was a cunning hunter, and a social creature like all wolves tend to be. Kara did not care much for speaking to crowds, but she at least saw the use in it to avoid misunderstandings. She did not expect much of it either, but at least adressing the townsfolk was out of the way now.

[Vogelens]

Not long after the huntress called Kara made the woodlands near Filur her hunting grounds, a shrine to "The Hunt" would be erected in those woods.

The shrine itself is basic, compared to other shrines or holy sites. Half a dozen of sharp, jagged rocks are set out in a circle, slightly curving to the inside of the formation. In the middle is a larger rock with a flat surface at the top, often with some dried blood staining it after an offering or tribute left there. Rumour might spread that the occassional wolf would be present near the shrine, though these canines would not harm any townsfolk. They would be there more as guardians and attendents to this shrine, perhaps even feeding the mystery and superstitions about the place.

Kara would make it known to the townsfolk of Filur that the shrine was for all to visit should they wish, and for hunters to offer tribute to "The Hunt" itself, for favour when they would hunt in the woods themselves. While not specifically mentioned by the Kara, the shrine would also serve as a place for people to offer tribute to placate the wild beasts in the woods.

Superstitions of commonfolk regarding the Beastlord would take their course as they always had, but that was not much of Kara's concern or purpose with erecting this holy site in the woods. Instead the huntress focussed on good relations with the nearby townsfolk, and to show them The Hunt has many aspects, not just reckless bloodthirst.

[Vogelens]

It was a clear night, with the moon high up in the sky to shine her silver light down on the land. Slivers of moonlight managed to break through the canopy to touch lightly upon the forest floor, to loosen the grasp of the dark night. It has been a while the sky was as clear as this, but it was a good sign. The night was favoured, or rather... the Hunt this night would be favoured. It could be said it was a poor time to be prey but then again, when would it be a good time for that? These men had earned to be marked however. They deserved it, Kara had learned. Men who preyed on others themselves, while hiding from the law in the woods. And while the laws of the city could not reach these men, there were other laws to follow here. Hunt or be hunted. And these bandits would find out what that meant this very night.

Five wolves stalked through the woods towards the old ruin where there men were hiding out. It was a good location to take shelter, it was out of the wind and mostly dry. It was out of sight and close to the road too. Of course it also meant they had cover to defend themselves and had an advantage, but this was no ordinary pack of wild animals. Kara's pack consisted of five wolves in total this night. First there was Melion, her loayl companion, he was one of the stronger of the pack. Then there were Grey and Fang, thew two young brothers who had joined her some moons ago, after Kara had slain their alpha who was a rival at the time. And lastly there was the largest of them this hunt. A tall, fierce looking wolf with fangs like daggers, meant to exist for one purpose and one purpose alone; to hunt. Kara had called upon this Hound of the Hunt to join them this night and it answered the call. And last there was Kara. She walked in the shape of a blackfurred wolf to lead her pack against these brigands.

The tower stood tall, but not as tall as it once did. Many of the stone walls were crumbled, a fact emphasized by the orange glow that danced along some of them. While the fire would keep the men inside warm, it was hardly a subtle source of heat in these cold months. The fire and the glow that gave their location away would not be the men's undoing, even in the dark night with just the moonlight to dispel their cover they would have been damned. And between the two options, at least they would die warm. Small mercies still seemed to exist after all, even amongst the harsh ways of the wild.

The five wolves fanned out when nearing the ruined watchpost. They kept their distance for now, until they had the place surrounded. Kara's keen eyes pierced the gloom as she waited for her hunters to take position. They knew their role well, it was in their nature, and with the pack close and united as it was, everything fell into place with just her subtle guidance. The Beastmaster saw shadows of the men dance along the walls as they moved about. There were not many of them, just a small handful. To know that she and her hunters outnumbered her quarry gave her an exciting sensation. Whenever she shifted her shape she did not merely take on the form of the beast, she embraced its entire aspect. And some things would be able to tug at her bestial instincts more after this embrace. Kara had learned to use those to her advantage a long time ago already.

Kara moved only slightly after giving her hunters the time they needed to move into position. Grass and foliage rustled slightly as her form stalked through the growth. She was patient, as the cunning wolf has to be. There would be an opportunity for them to spring the trap, and this night as they walked with the favour of the Hunt itself, they did not even need to wait long.

One of the men offered himself to have blood spilled first. A large man stumbled out of the cover of the ruined tower and made his way to a tree. He leaned against it and mumbled something to himself. He had fur on his head, Kara noticed. A lot of fur, but it did not say her much. Humans tend to look alike to a wolf like her. She could not make out the words, but there was no need to. The cloth around the man's legs dropped and he started to mark the tree as his own. Kara lept forwards in a small sprint, with a snarl released by her. One of the nearby wolves needed no further encouragement to join her in the sprint. The human let out a small cry of suprise, but both the Beastmaster and Grey were on him before he could fumble for his steel. Grey let his fangs sink deep in the man's leg and gave it a strong tug to make the man fall over. Kara was upon him light lightning, her own fangs finding the human's bared throat within just a split second, to tear it open. She tasted the blood, both in her mouth and carried as a strong scent on the cool nightly breeze. It felt good, it felt invigorating. And more will soon spill.

Kara and Grey let out a long and piercing howl after their kill, though the remaining humans were already fumbling for their own steel. Three more lupine voices joined in with the howl to add to the chorus that would be their battlecry. Two of the men stepped forwards out of their cover, with their fake claws glinstering as they caught the moonlight upon them. Humans and their tools. She and her hunters would show them true tooth and claw this night.

The two wolves dashed forwards towards the men that presented themselves. Their lips were curled back and teeth bared in a vicious snarl. The humans did not get a chance to wield their shining tools against them though, as the Hound crashed upon one of them from the flanks with a boneshaking snarl that echoed throught the night. Its fangs tore at the human's flesh and ripped right through the leather skin he was waring as if it was not even there. His companion swung his tool at the Hound and left a bleeding gash, but this only stirred up a frenzy in the hunter. The man did not get a chance for his second strike, as Melion was upon him already to halt such folly. Melion bit deep in the human's hand and he cried out which caused him to drop his sword.

The things may be sharp but ultimately they were also still just tools, true claws would not be lost so easily the Beastmaster observed. The man kicked and screamed as he tried to fight the two wolves off, but two became four as Kara and Grey reached their prey too. The man drowned fur, teeth and blood as he was torn to shreds.

A gleam of silver shot through the night and struck the hound in the side. It let out a sharp howl, a perfect blend of pain and fury. The pack's eyes snapped towards the last of the men. He had a strange device in his hands, and Kara had a strange feeling she should know what it was. Had she seen such tools before? And what was the man doing with it? She maybe would have known was she not a wolf, but her instincts clouded her mind right now. Was this device used to shoot the feathered claw into the Hound? It did not matter, as both Melion and she herself sprung to action immediatly. As the human was fumbling with his odd object, the two wolves had him pinned to the ground already while their fangs tasted the crimson that bled from his wounds. The Hound was not far behind, and his laege jaws crunched into an arm to shatter the bone. All that was left for the man to die was die now, slain by superior hunters than he could ever be. All the last thing the man left behind for the world, was his blood curdling scream that echoed into the night. Neither his device nor his feathered talons did him much good, in the end.

---


A display for travellers was left the following day, in the wake of the hunt. A man in dark leathers, obviously dead with wounds inflicted by wild animals would hang suspended against one of the trees. No rope was used, nor was he nailed to the tree, oddly enough. The man hung by the branches, that had grown tightly around his arms to keep him hanging there and keep him up for display. Near this gruesome sight a sign would be find. It was a crude sign, though not in the way savage beasts like orcs would have one set up. This sign was made by one who lacked or did not use the tools of the town, with the smooth, inner surface of a piece of bark serving to share its message. "Brigands will be hunted." was written in the Easting tongue on it.

It would not take long to conclude the brigand's corpse and sign were a warning, even if it was a grisly one. Someone did not tolerate brigands, highwaymen or bandits along the forest road of Filur. Whoever that someone might be. Was it the Lion who took position as guardian and protector of the nearby plains? Or were these adventurers wishing to do good? Or was it the huntswoman who came to the woods recently? Or perhaps even the forest itself..?

One thing did offer certainty however, any bandits or criminals that used these roads to prey on travellers would meet a similar fate as this bold band. They too would be hunted down and slain, when discovered. Grim as the end of these criminals may be, at least it meant someone was watching over the roads and working to keep them safe for normal travellers.