Preview: The Haqo Realm Chapter 1

Byln Hubtop was a simple man of simple desires. A good hunt for good money, good money for a good meal, a good meal for a good sleep, and a good sleep for a good hunt. Thus, he was more than annoyed when the deceptively strong, petite hand slapped him up the back of the head.

With a groan, he raised his head from the table to give an accusing stare at the brunette woman, giving him her own stink eye. "Odi, if you weren't so cute, I'd probably have broken your wrist by now."

"Aye, and lose you're favorite perch? I think not," she retorted, rolling her eyes at the man. "My customers pay good money to eat and drink, not to hear a putsact hunter snoring away and wonder if he drools on their table. Either order something or sleep elsewhere."

Byln snorted at that as he leaned back, gesturing to the mostly empty bar. "Please, I'm the most faithful customer the Qaubt has, especially at this hour."

She gained a fake smile at that. "Than you'll be happy to show your patronage!"

Byln grumbled as he rose from his seat. "Fine, fine, but you still owe me that free dinner from last week."

"Yes, you keep reminding me, but never cash it in," Odi pointed out curiously.

"I'm saving it for a special, or horrible, occassion," Byln answered with a grin as he turned, limping out as his left leg took its time awakening. Stepping out of the cozy tavern, he breathed the cool air in deeply. As he looked around the small settlement. Find the right tree and he could probably shoot an arrow from one side of town to the other. 

"Good morning, Byln!" the blacksmith called in passing as he polished a metal cuirass and refined the engravings upon it.

"Happy hunting, Hubtop," a young girl named as she helped her father stock their stall of sweets

"Morning, Qig, Mabi!" Byln returned automatically, his idle smile turning down as he saw the travel coach up ahead.

"Morning, Byln! Odi finally throw you out?" the man sitting at the driver seat asked as a jab.

"I don't know, Kiuc, do you have any customers?" Byln retorted, ignoring the man's coyote laugh and continuing out of town.

Nested at the base of the gently slopping Xavt Mountain, Coxxoptab was more of a passing place to resupply at than a place to make a home. After all, the Forests of the Coxxop Bippad was a chilly place where little grew or prospered. Rolling his shoulders, he made his way south with the moutain to his back. But like all places, there were ways to make a living if one knew how.

He pulled the hood up of his mypo cloak as he trailed through the trees, arming himself with a bow and reaching for the quiver of metal arrows upon his back. He trekked softly in his boots as he searched with his ears more than his eyes. His intended quarry was easily hidden, but if one knew them well enough, their shrieking squeeks were unmistakable at any distance.

Slowing his stride, he hummed as he studied some anomalies in the forests; a flurry of upturned and drodded leaves, deep gashes in a tree, and large footprints. Not a humanoid, by the looks. No, more animal, canine probably. He glanced northwest, where he knew a sloping ridge was. Wolves and other beasts sometimes chased large prey down from there, but never stayed. It wasn't much to be concerned about, but Byln hadn't made it this far by being careless.

Glancing up at the bare tree branches, he was grateful that at least there wasn't any climbing creatures to worry about. Following the direction of the paw print, he soon found another. Or rather several others. The placement concerned Byln though. The path of the prints was uneven, with sharp missteps. In his experience, this meant either the creature was being hunted instead of hunting, or it was already injured and dying. Given the lack of other impression in the soil, he was fairly sure it was the second.

His nose rinkled as something sweet and foul drifted in the still air. "Well, that's promising."

He followed the scent and the prints, growing more confident in what he would find as he went. He smiled at his luck as the rabid, rapid squeeks reached his ears. Pausing at a tree, he spied his prize in the distance: A swarm of pitsacts, the hardened rodents crawling all over a large corpse, each struggling for their own scrap of food for themselves. Snorting to himself, he raised his bow and pulled the arrow tense against the line. The metal shaft shined as he took care with his aim. Only one shot before the horde would undoubtedly disperse.

His arrow flew across the distance in a heartbeat, a hiss of static being the only warning that proceeded the flashing blue energy sparking across the pitsacts. All able fled light shadows from light, but the dozens caught in the power of his bow screached and spasmed before the woods fell silent once more.

Slinging his bow over his back, Byln moved forward with a cheerful shift to his gait. He knelt down infront of his prize, eyeing he pitsacts for any that might have survived his arrow. Seeing no obvious signs, he grabbed the arrow, plucking it from the ground to place it back in the quiver. He began to load the small corpses into a pack-pouch, pausing to study one. There was a faint green beneath the pelt. Nothing speacial, but an abundance would make up for the lack of quality. He resumed collecting them, but his eager pace slowed as he began to see more of the unfortunate creature.

It was big, but there was less fur than he expected. "Not just a Mypo, but a Lesop-Mypo," he deduced with a scowl. That was troubling, and confusing. He continued his packing, clearing the batch of critters concealing the wolven beast's stomach. He made a face as he saw the injuries, and a dead pitsact halfway inside a gash. "That is just wrong," he murmured, hoping that image didn't linger when it was time to eat. Still, looking the large and harden animal's form, he saw no color emitting beneath the pelt. The pitsacts had already sapped it of the majority of its worth. "What is something like you doing all the way out here?" he asked himself as he enjoyed the silence.