B20

It was mid-morning when Bronwyn headed out the northern gates. She had packed up her belongings, stopped by Olivia’s campsite, and found that she’d already left with Morgan. She was a little sad that she didn’t get a chance to say goodbye, but she was excited for her. Going to meet a new type of people, essentially making first contact with an alien society, sounded pretty damn exciting. She had her task, though; she needed to find out more about these Urghat, where they were, and what kind of numbers they had. She was also hesitantly excited about some plans she had thought of involving her new title of “Underclaw” and what she could maybe do with it. She’d have to find the right opportunity, though. For now, she tightened the straps on her backpack, waved goodbye to the guards, and started jogging out into the open fields.

With all the points she’d invested in agility, her jog was starting to feel more and more like a sprint. She loved the feeling of the wind blowing against her face as she ran, her hair blowing back behind her, though Hops was less of a fan and ducked inside of her backpack whenever she was running.

She had been traveling for quite a while when she came upon the large stone pillar in the field - the site where she had dueled Bloodfang. Bronwyn slowed down as she approached the pillar, looking out for any signs of Urghat. She walked to where she had laid the body of Bloodfang. The two dead Boyii hounds were still there, little more than skeletons picked clean by scavengers, but there were no signs of the Urghat pack master or Bloodfang. Someone had retrieved their bodies. She activated her tracking skill and found faint footprints leading away from the site. She followed them for a few meters to the Northwest, and a small gray window popped up in her view, “Urghat.” She smiled at her discovery and began to follow the tracks.

The tracks were difficult to follow in the dense grass of the plains, and she lost them and had to backtrack a number of times. She had been following them for about five miles when she saw a handful of faint trails of smoke rising into the sky from behind a large hill. She crouched low in the grass and slowly started making her way up toward a large mossy boulder at the apex. She put her back to the stone and peaked her head around it. She saw the ruins of a small village, about a dozen stone buildings surrounding a central square. Twenty to thirty completely dilapidated homes were spread out to the north. Inside the ruins, she saw what had to be close to thirty Urghat going in and out of buildings, cooking at the fires, and practicing combat drills.

She crouched down behind the boulder and started drawing a map of the route she’d taken, a few distinguishing landmarks, and a more detailed drawing of the inside of the encampment. She pulled away from the stone to take one last look at the camp, making sure she had all the details right. She couldn’t fight this alone and would need to come back with some help. She tucked her crude map and charcoal into her pouch and began to turn away when she felt the sharp edge of a blade press against her neck.

“Well, well, what do we have here, a li’l spy taking notes?” The harsh raspy voice of an Urghat whispered from behind her, his breath hot on the back of her neck. “Wonder if I should kill you here or let the boys get some information out of ya first.”

Bronwyn raised her hands in front of her and started to speak, but the knife’s pressure immediately disappeared, and she could hear the Urghat scrambling backward.

“M-my apologies, Underclaw. Please, please forgive me. I had no idea, I swear it. I have no intention of making a claim.” His voice sounded panicked, and when Bronwyn turned around, he dropped the knife, his eyes transfixed on the band around her arm.

“What’s your name?” Bronwyn stood at her full height, puffing out her chest and trying to seem as intimidating as possible.

“Umberpaw.” He looked down when he spoke and hesitated for a moment before continuing. “Please, I meant no disrespect; I have four cubs at home. I would never mean to challenge an Underclaw. I-I can give you information. You’re not Urghat; you must have questions about your title.” The Urghat was practically begging her at this point, his brow furrowed and his hands clasped together.

“Stand up, Umberpaw. I have no intention of killing someone unarmed. However, I do have many questions, and I would appreciate you telling me what you know. For starters, what does it mean to be an Underclaw? Who am I under? Also, why didn’t you just kill me while you had that knife to my throat?” Bronwyn led Umberpaw around behind the boulder so that they might talk fully out of sight from the ruins. She sat down and motioned for him to do the same.

Umberpaw followed Bronwyn and sat himself in the grass across from her. He still had a concerned look on his face as he looked her in the eyes for the first time. “To be an Underclaw is an honor and also a threat to one’s self-preservation. You have the right to lead any Urghat who would follow you, and you obey only the commands of the Overclaw. However, once a day, any Urghat who feels as though he or she is deserving of your station may challenge you to single combat. This combat is always fought to the death. This means that anyone who challenges an Underclaw must be so sure of themselves, and their right to lead, that they are willing to risk their lives for the title.” He paused for a moment, sighing. “Had I killed you just now, ran my blade across your neck, that armband you wear would have turned to onyx and wrapped around my neck; I would be branded a coward and exiled by my own people. This is also why I swore that I did not wish to challenge you; I would have no hopes of winning a fair fight against the one who bested Bloodfang.”

He looked deep into Bronwyn’s eyes before continuing. “Yes, we know of you, Blodwyn. Underclaw Bloodfang sent a sparii carrying news of his quest and his impending duel back to camp. Many Urghat will be after your title now; outsiders do not keep it long. If you manage to live, and, more so, if you manage to get other Urghat to follow you, your title will grow in power. What else do you wish to know? I want to help, but I cannot tell you anything that would betray the trust of my own lord.”

Bronwyn sat there for a moment, thinking, “You’ve been very helpful, Umberpaw. There are a couple of questions I’d like to ask. I don’t think they are compromising in any way. What would happen to me if I were to walk into that camp down there? You also mentioned convincing other Urghat to follow me; how could an outsider possibly do that?”

Umberpaw scratched at his chin as he pondered the questions. “If you walked into that camp this very instant, I doubt they would do anything. Any of them that challenged you, and mind, it could only be one a day, would be committing suicide. I suppose they would undoubtedly send word of your arrival to the other Underclaw and possibly to Overclaw Spineripper. They would not be openly hostile and would allow you to rest at their camp, I’m sure. If you, however, were to attack the camp and start a conflict, they could all defend themselves honorably without risk of being outcasted. An Underclaw outsider is a tricky situation and one that happens very, very rarely. Technically you have the right to request an audience with the Overclaw, should you desire it.”

Umberpaw was deep in thought for a moment, his eyes staring off into space. “Tricky situation indeed.” He refocused on Bronwyn, “on the question of how you would get Urghat to follow you? I haven’t the slightest idea.” He let out a barking laugh, “I suppose you prove your worth in battle and try to get them to follow you that way. Though convincing new unsworn warriors to follow you over any other Underclaw would be exceedingly difficult, I would imagine.” He shrugged his hairy shoulders and held his hands upward.

Bronwyn chuckled with him, “Hah, I suppose following an outsider would be quite the rebellious choice to make.” She held her hand out toward him, “Well, Umberpaw, I thank you for your honesty, even if it was out of some sense of duty or self-preservation. I don’t suppose you want to walk into camp with the outsider Underclaw, so why don’t we part ways here, and maybe I’ll see you down there. If I’m feeling risky, anyway.” She laughed again and grinned at the large beast-man in front of her.

Umberpaw bypassed her hand and grasped her forearm, so she did the same. “I hope you somehow make it through the challenges ahead, Underclaw; thank you again for sparing me. Perhaps one day we can meet on better terms, around the fire.” He let go of her arm and nodded one last time before heading down the hill toward the ruins.

Bronwyn waited behind the old mossy boulder for a while after the Urghat left her. She spent some time reflecting on what she learned and how it might affect her mission going forward. If the Urghat really couldn’t fight her, except once per day, it almost gave her free reign of the area and the ability simply to walk through all their camps unimpeded. However, her fight with Bloodfang had not been easy, she had barely won in the end, and there were undoubtedly Urghat more fearsome than he. She felt safe, well at least, somewhat safe, entering the camp down the hill from her. Umberpaw had been confident that none of the Urghat down there would pose a threat to her, even if one did make a challenge.

She slipped off her backpack and set it down in front of her, pulling the top open wide and peering inside. “You okay, buddy? I know you’re not the biggest fan of these guys.” She reached down in the pack and scooped Hops up in her hand; he peered up at her, poking his head out of his shell. “I’m gonna be heading down into that camp, but don’t worry, I won’t let any of them see you. Let’s have a little lunch first, though.” She set Hops down on her lap and retrieved some dried fruits and cured meats from her pouch. She also handed hops a small handful of nuts and berries. Hops sat happily in her lap as they ate, the sun high in the sky and the grass soft beneath them.

“You all done eating, cutie? She smiled at him as he turned around to reveal a blue-stained face and bulging cheeks packed with food. Hops finished his mouthful and chirped up at her happily. “You wanna ride in the backpack again or up on my shoulder? I won’t let anyone hurt you, either way, I promise.” Hops looked like he was thinking about climbing up on her shoulder for a moment, but then he hopped off her lap, diving into the opening of the backpack. Bronwyn chuckled, “No worries, buddy, I understand; they can be pretty scary sometimes.” She slung the straps of the backpack over her shoulders and dusted off her pants.

As she turned the corner around the boulder, she noticed a glint in the grass beside her and knelt to examine it. Umberpaw had never retrieved the knife he dropped; the blade was made of some sort of stone, perhaps obsidian. The edge was sharper than glass, and golden runes floated inside it like it was filled with liquid. The hilt was made of dark wood and wrapped with white leather. She slipped it into her pouch - maybe she’d meet the wiry Urghat again, and she could return it.

Bronwyn took a deep breath, straightened her shoulders, and walked down the grassy slope to the Urghat camp below.