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Wolf Hunters

Rain in Yorick was barely ever a cause for alarm. Most inhabitants of Trevain had come to expect it so much they dare not leave the house without proper gear to ward off water, so the visuals of the gray clouded sky and the torrents of water battering the old window panes was just another scene.

Young Ms. Roslyn Shuck sweeps the tattered floorboards of her place of work, the old bookstore in Old Yorick, humming pleasantly to herself as thunder looms gently in the distance. Her mind is not fixated completely on her chore, however, as she finds herself accidentally sweeping in one spot longer than is needed. Her bright green eyes staring almost vacantly at the floor like they’re supposed to be, but her mind wanders beyond what is immediately physically possible. She corrects herself, uttering a small “oh!”, before shuffling to a different spot to focus on. She wills herself to her chores, but its a difficult shift in focus.

Not too far from her sitting hidden behind a tall retail counter cluttered with candles, incense and small oddities is her employer, who seems to be lost in a world of his own. Mr. Serj Legrande chews his lip, sharp mind calculating behind a mess of dark curls. Long fingers tracing words in an old antiqued tome marked with dark ink symbols of a foreign tongue, he puzzles quietly but gives a small hum of his discontent with confusion. He considers asking his employee for her opinion, but stews on it a few moments more instead to see if he cannot figure it out.

They were both thinking of the same subject, the one that had brought them together in the first place and one that had been the obssession of Mr. Legrande his entire life. Still for the afternoon, the silence between them is calm and comforting.

Serj lifts his head up over the counter, craning his neck to look for his assistant, but as hes about to speak heavy booted footsteps against wood breaks his concentration. Roslyn perks at the intrusion and they both stare as a tall, soaked, broad chinned man in a tattered cloak swings the front door open, splashing water across the freshly cleaned floor. His clothes are muted tones, and the cloak around his shoulders and protecting his gray hair is clasped with the image of a pewter wolf’s head. He shuts the door behind him as quick as he can, rattling the framework of the storefront slightly from the force. His eyes scan the room, expression terse before brightening once he sees the two curious pairs of eyes on him.

Though curious, Rosy was not at all pleased with the new mess of wet leaves and fresh mud tracked in by the stranger and bites her tongue gently with her arched brows high up on her forehead. She forgets to focus on any other determining features on him and instead her focus goes directly to his huge hunting boots, drenched in water and caked in...outdoors.

“Uhh.....bonjour.” The traveller addresses in a deep, inviting voice in a very flat Trevainian accent. The greeting immediately labels him as a foreigner. He seems only somewhat interested in the books surrounding him, but Serj’s eyes were fixed on that cloak he wore over his broad shoulders. Though it was hard to discern what he was focused on as his hair hid most everything on him.

Serj nodded in response and offered a polite smile before replying “Bonjour, welcome. ‘ow are you today?” while Rosy looks directly at Serj as if asking him with her eyes if he was witnessing the same thing she was. Serj gives a gentle nod to her, acknowledging her, but doesn’t remove his gaze from the cloak, causing Rosy to take her time and inspect the visitor as he was. She offered a small welcoming smile on her dark lips as well.

The traveller steps forward slowly, weight creaking the floor. He was tall, muscled and grizzled in the face, with a very warm overall feel. “Doing well,” He replied, crossing into the threshold of the old store. “Was wondering if you all could maybe give me some ideas of where I could find some things. Ain’t from here, this is my first time in Yorick.”

Serj nodded. “Of course, of course. I am knowledgeable for zat sort of sing and can ‘elp you. But ehh.....excuse me for asking but...where did you get zat cloak?” and Rosy’s eyes snapped into focus on the pewter wolf head clasp on his shoulder as if suddenly understanding why this man, despite feeling warm and friendly, should be met with suspicion. She shuffled gently behind him, broom in hand, pretending to busy herself with sweeping beside the door.

The traveller lowers the hood off his head and grins brightly. “You have a good eye!” He tugs at the worn furred leather of the cloak as he speaks, attempting to give a better view of the garment. “This here is a cloak given and passed down to wolf hunters. Its a badge of honor, I guess you’d say. Given only to hunters who proved their worth to wear it. I was hopin’ you all could give me some pointers on where to look if I was lookin’ for some wolves.”

Serj is silent with his lips a line, eyes cold and fixed, but Rosy gently steps forward to clarify. She replies “Wolves? A wee bit too far into the city to be lookin’ fer wolves ah thenk.” but something in her knowing voice says to Serj she knows exactly what hes talking about. The hunter misses the subtext and laughs warmly as he shifts his attention to her.

“Ain’t like that miss, I’m lookin’ for the shifters. The ones that wear human skin durin’ the day and hunt the innocent at night. Heard Yorick is supposed to be filled with ‘em, got a real problem y’all do. S’why I’m here. I don’t think y’all deserve to suffer under the jaws of those monsters.” Rosy keeps her warm, polite smile and nods a bit, though its obvious her mind is elsewhere far more sentimental and her jaw is struggling to not clench.

“I see...you thenk the lycanthropes are monsters, aye?” She offers him a chance to elaborate and he simply chuckles as he replies. “Lycanthrope, miss, is the word we use medically. Politically correct, even. Ain’t nothin’ medical or deservin’ of reservation either. You call ‘em lycanthropes they’ll start fightin’ to be human. But there ain’t nothin’ human about them. They may have been at some point miss, but the ones I seen lost the shine to their eyes. And far as I’m concerned, I seen all of ‘em. Ain’t none of ‘em can be saved, ain’t none of ‘em can stay alive for the safety of mankind.”

“Ohhhh I see...well, yanno we might know a few places ta look.” her eyes meet with Serj’s as hes put on the most disarmingly warm smile she’s seen on him in a while. He pushes himself against his sturdy cane to stand, grunting gently from the effort before calmly swaying his way in front of the counter. His motions are somewhat hasty, as something in him has definitely clicked and Rosy understands immediately. He chuckles gently, getting the hunter’s attention on him again as the tip of his cane grinds into the wood under him.

“Oh yes, we can ‘elp each ozehr out quite a bit I sink.” He shuffles to be beside the hunter, who’s height makes even the tall Serj look average. Serj’s fingers motion behind the hunters back to Rosy, motioning for her to get the door and she’s quick to react and bustles behind the two of them as Serj places his hand on the hunter’s shoulder. “But fehrst, you must come upstairs so I can fix you some herbal tea. It is a special blend my good friend makes, he is an aposecary you know. You must be tired from your travels, aftehr all.”

The hunter warmly chuckles and obliges. “Oh, that’d be nice. I don’t remember the last time ah had somethin’ warm to drank, or somethin’ that wasn’t rain water. Its been dismal for days on horseback.” Serj nods sympathetically, guiding the hunter in front of him towards the stairs.

“Ah, oui. Trevain she is so unforgiving in zis way. She may one day drown us all. But eh, though cold, she is nevehr ehh....cruel or unjust. She mostly is fair.” The hunter nods, accepting the weird comment as local charm and pride in home.

“I feel thats how we should all be, sir. By the way, whats your name? If I’m havin’ tea with y’all I should at least know that.”

Serj grins with sharp white teeth as Rosy flanks the hunter’s other side, her emerald eyes bright and warm as she gently pads with them in front of the

“Of course, ‘ow rude of me. I am Serj Legrande, and zis is my lovely assistant Roslyn Shuck. And we are so pleased to ‘ave company wiss you.” The hunter’s interest was piqued at the mention of Rosy’s last name, but he couldn’t place his finger on why. Instead he smiles at her and she smiles right back as Serj lingers back somewhat behind the two.

“S’been real nice meeting you, Ms. Shuck and uhh-”

Mid-sentence, Serj grips the front of the retail counter and whips the hook handle of his cane out in front of him, catching the front of the hunter’s ankle and snaps his arm back to his side. Off guard and unexpecting to be assaulted, the hunter topples and staggers forward, falling flat on his face. Dazed from the collision, he quickly tries to muster to his knees but Roslyn meets him bluntly with the handle of her broom against his temple, a loud cracking sound projecting against the old walls. Just the sound was enough to cause a stinge of pain in Serj’s back. Again, the hunter staggers to try and stand but Rosy meets his tenderest meat and bone with the ragged wood of her broom until he fails to retaliate.

Not dead, but definitely not in good shape.

Serj leans gently against the counter, waiting for the pain in his hip and leg to subside from the physical force of the assault, and stares at the poor unconscious fool on the floor. Rosy was gently out of breath as she recognizes her actions may have come from a deeper place. She looks to Serj and he gently looks back.

“Never ded tell you about my uncle did I.” he shakes his head gently with his palm against his hip, willing the pain to subside.

“Was zat for him?” Rosy looks at the hunter, his ribs expanding with his breath though he was far gone. Her mind races back to a few fateful encounters from childhood, remembering her family torn in half because of men who think like the one on the floor. She nods softly and inhales deeply.

“YEAH. It was. I didn’t expect to project tha’ much unto this poor idjit but. Hearin’ him talk aboot them not bein’ worth mercy, somethin’ jes. Went off. Anyway. Shouldn’t keep this sod here.”

Serj nods and chuckles darkly as he slowly lowers the tip of his cane back into the wood. “If you would not mind ‘elping me get him to ze basement.”

It took some trying to get a man his size for both of them to lumber over to the cellar doors. With a slight heave they flip the hunter into the cellar and allow his body to roll and tumble gracelessly down the stairs into the unforgiving darkness. The vision of him laying at the bottom, blood starting to pool against the stone of the basement floor with the darkness creeping in should be unsettling.

Serj ends the vision by slamming the doors shut and re-setting the padlock, cancelling out all light and all life for those below. He would not want Rosy to be scarred, but she’s proven multiple times that she is not one to falter. Gentle hissing and scraping of nails against stone can be heard from behind the heavy cellar doors, threatening but preoccupied.

Serj doesn’t stick around, he leaves the minute he gets the lock fixed but Rosy can’t help but dissociate gently at the sounds. She remembers seeing the imps that live in the cellar. Their imagery mixed with flashbacks of her younger days of crying with fear at the mention of Dogwood and Wolf Hunters. The hard crack of bones breaking snaps her back and she turns her back on the cellar doors.

Her mentor looks to her with sympathy and smiles genuinely for the first time since he had arrived. “I sink for today, we should close ze shop early and maybe ‘ave some tea. I spoke of it earlier and now I ‘ave a strong craving for it. Monsieur Sparrow makes ze best herbal blend.”

Rosy smiles back at him, relaxed despite her vulnerable internal feelings. “Aye, sounds goot. I could use somethin’ t’eat as well.”

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The rain had finally let up the day following, leaving the world a little bit damp and the air filled with the aroma of wet churned earth. Small rivers of water would slosh down cobblestone and finally drain into the sewers below.

The cracked black paint of the old bookstore door creaked open in the early white morning light, and would have Serj make his debut for the day in his broad brimmed hat and long black overcoat. His cane dug into the wood below him and he closed and locked the door for safety sake before he proudly carried himself to the street. He had a very particular destination in mind.

Coming to the windows of the apothecary shop, Serj allowed himself inside and subjected himself to the strong, musty yet spicy smell of herbs and powders. His gaze scanned the room and he was immediately met with a gruff greeting.

“Oh, hey Serj. What in the world are you doing over here so early? Ain’t even open yet.” Serj beamed at the gruff visage of his dearest friend, eyes glancing over his rough manly features marked by his bright honey-golden eyes, peppered hair and soft pointed ears. He had been busying himself with dusting the shelves behind the counter. Serj hurried gently as he chuckled.

“Ah, monsieur Sparrow! I know it is early but I could not resist, I ‘ad to see you as soon as I could today.” He waited till Sparrow had wandered out from behind the counter, his big bushy brow quirked on his forehead, scrutinizing Serj’s excited behavior.

“You feelin’ alright? You look a lil more squirrelly than usual, are you up to somethin’?”

“Ah, non Monsieur. Why must you sink I am always up to somesing? I cannot come visit my dearest friend in ze world and tell him I loved his ‘erbal tea? Rosy and I steeped it yestehrday and it was.....magnifique.” Sparrow’s expression lightens a bit, touched at the sincerity.

“Aww well thank you Serj. I wasn’t sure if it’d be good, I don’t usually make tea and such. It was more me just dabblin’ with leaves if we’re bein honest. If you like it so much I figure I could get you some more.”

Serj’s smile shone brightly under his hair at his dear friend. All he could think of was fondness for this man and all they had done for each other over the years, how Sparrow at one point was all he had in the world on his darkest days, and nights spent sheltering him in his wolf body from antagonizers and Dogwood hunters. “I would love zat.”

He extends his arms and motions with his fingers asking for Sparrow’s hands. Sparrow slowly obliges and offers them, letting Serj run his fingers running over the silver burn scars in his fingers gently. Mr. Sparrow’s hands were larger and thicker than Serj’s, most everything on Sparrow was larger, though Serj would claim the honor of being the taller of the two, but the hands really put it into perspective.

He gazes at the justification for his actions the previous day with bittersweet empathy, before his eye catches what appears to be new scars and he lifts his hands closer to inspect them. Sparrow draws his hands back. “Uhh.....yeah. Kids today. They started this new thing where they like....paint over silver coins in brown paint so I think they’re copper till I touch ‘em. Its real annoyin’ cus I thought I could stop wearin’ gloves at work.”

Serj’s face twists with disgust at Sparrow’s new predicament, crossing his arms over his narrow chest.

“Am I going to ‘ave to kill some kids?”

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