literature

Hunters, Hunted: 11

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Ysillith grumbled to herself. The town had seemed so well laid out looking at it from out in the hills. Once inside and the newly bought horse had been stabled, she'd found dozens of smaller buildings and edifices crammed into the space between the older, larger structures. Creating a maze of alleys, switchbacks and plazas. The entryway and road leading into the town; where the inn that her horse had been stabled was located; had been nice and straight, wide and open. To her minds eye it screamed 'Killing Box'. She'd over heard about the altercation between some blow in dueler and the Lich's Pistol Wraith, her hands itched for her swords at the thought of a chance to fight the wench. With that mystery easily solved, she snorted again as the feelings against such creatures rose to the forefront of her mind, she had been freed to wander through the town looking at the layout and defenses, investigating places of 'interest' for the coming incursion, while tasked to find an address and "Deliver a message" for the Lich.

Her thoughts turned again to the dealings in the purchase of the nag that she'd ridden into town on. Paid for with ample coin from some fortified farmstead, the Lich had been emphatic about the minimizing of interaction with its forces. All the while , its minions had cautiously and surreptitiously crept around the outskirts of the complex of buildings and outer sheds and fields. To her way of thinking, a little bit of pillage and looting would have warmed her 'gels' up nicely for the coming 'tiff'. Then again, there had been the temptation of the stable lad and that thought brought on a rueful grin.

She sighed, looking around, the brew up 'tween Khardor and Cygnar must've been hurting the locals more than they were wont to let on, she thought. She hadn't seen a decent specimen since she'd left the farmsteading, nothing but young boys gangling about or stout elder business owners caring for their profits. She'd passed an open-air tavern where War veterans were gabbing and hobbling about. *At least the locals seemed to take care of their maimed in a decent fashion* were her thoughts. The eas that her 'Gels' would carve through the town brought a flush to her skin, a grin to her face and a skip to her walk.

She stepped out of an alley between two large old warehouses onto the concourse facing the river. The sight of even this small trickle of water made her feel a little more at ease. She glanced up and down the street, seeing the pier where laborers were going about the transferring of cargo on a sturdy river barge. She ambled in that direction glancing absently at the small shops and businesses poking out of converted warehouse space and facing the river. Her path wandered adjacent to a 'Gear Monkey' and a youngish waif, both rugged up in great coats against the river mist. The two enjoying a morning meal break outside a pasty shop nestled into the end of one old building.

"Mornin' Miss!" The waif called. Ysillith stopped and took full note of the pair. The gangly gear monkey, oil and well-tended patches on her coveralls. Pale face under an explosion of ginger hair, semi-contained by a scrunched woolen cap, goggles hanging about her neck. Both hands curled about a pie of some sort. The small figure of the waif was hidden under a low drawn cap and the tumble of an old great coat, the darker blue patches standing out where the insignia had been removed in its recycling. Scuffed thick cork soled boots crossed at the ankles stuck out from beneath. Yslillth realized that the pair wore machaniks boots, just the waifs had been resoled recently with the cork. The waif bounced up and proffered a hand, quickly brushed against the coat to remove crumbs and flakes.

"The names Min! Min Rindel!" The gear monkey suddenly exploded into a coughing fit of pastry.

"Geeze! Ginge! I know yer boss doesn't give ye much time off, but could ye at LEAST try an chew a fore ye swallow?" Min proceeded help the gear monkey up with much back thumping, "You'd better head back to th' barn. I'll have that knurling head for you some time in the next couple of days. Sorry about the wait, things are a bit 'tight' 'tween me an' the watch at the moment." Then heading her off with a waive and a proffered handkerchief.

"Now then, Miss?" The waif looked up at Ysillith with an impish grin, hand reaching out again.

"Lilly." Ysillith supplied; a warning flag popping up in the back of her mind as Min pumped her arm. She resisted the urge to count fingers; glad she wasn't wearing any rings.

"So, yer new to town then?" Mins face was inquisitive, sparkling green eyes flicking about Ysillith's figure.

"Yes, actually my family is just up from the coast to help out at our uncle Brinkles farm. What with the way things are goin' with the fighting about the place." Mins pale eyebrows bobbed up a bit at 'Lillys' last words.

"Things bad down that way? I could tell you's a city folk. How's it go 'The slice of yer jib's got that look to it'." She finished and stepped back grinning. Ysillith grimaced at the butchering of the nautical term.

"I think you'll find navies say 'Brace' or 'cut'." She couldn't help correcting the urchin. "Well I s'pose the raiding along the coast's a bit more spread out than the grief between Khardor and," She tried to recall places or names, "Up north." She finished lamely. "So you are?" She quickly tried to shift the conversation to Min. Who debonairly bowed and stepped a bit closer to talk quietly.

"Min Rindel. Procurement specialist, Local Lore provider, Odd job performer, Message tote'r and Tour professional." Finishing with a wink.

Ysillith pursed her lips, "Well, you're right, I am kind of 'adrift' here in town..."

"Right you are Miss! Why don't I help you get yer bearin's. After all, any acquaintance of the Brinkles is definitely a friend o' mine!" Min proffered an arm and the pair proceeded along the street.
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Yes, finally some more. :blush:

I do apologize for not shifting things over before now, never seemed a need, but with Privateer Press doing renovations the words didn't seem safe being left to disappear with the old boards.

So, soon every thing written for Hunters Hunted will be here.

Enjoy.

Cr@p, Sh!t, F@ck! Yes, I had doubled up on that one. *waits for howling mob to storm residence* :(

I do so apologize for that. When the original web site that hunters, Hunted had been created/posted on got 'revamped' and all these posts simply disappeared, I kind of panicked a little.

:blush: Okay, I panicked a LOT! So, when I was given the link back into the'old' forum from the new, I was initially, madly cutting and pasting every thing of mine in site. This lead to the problem that Hunters, Hunted as it exists on my HD has no spaces or gaps between anything. It has become all one long huge document. So now I'm trying to go back and 'chop' it down again into re-postable sized pieces.

Again, thanks to Nighthawk for pointing out the mistake. :hug:

Cheers!
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nighthawk81's avatar
I started reading this story line with this installment. Looks interesting.

However ... is it just my imagination, or have you submitted the same text twice in a row in this? Seems that the text below the line is exactly the same as that above the line. Or did I miss something?