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Adventures of Dusty Yote

Chapter 5 - The Fear that Lurks in Shadows

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Upon his return to town, Dusty found it too early even for the Guild hall to be open. He waited at home a bit then headed to the markets when he saw people in the streets. At the market he bought a steamed bun with sausage and egg and ate it while sitting at a fountain in the market square. When he saw that the Guild hall still wasn't open, he dropped off his shield and sword at a blacksmith's to have them cleaned and sharpened before heading off to the church and the Order.

Brother Thomas was not present when he arrived; the mouse was not an early riser. He did find one of the local reverends, cougar John Hale, supervising the clean-up of the church. He was not the oldest member of the clergy present, but still had gray fur sprouting around his muzzle and worn-looking eyes. When he heard Dusty approaching, he turned around and extended a hand to him.

"Creator's light and grace be upon you, Master Yote," he said as they shook hands. "I've heard you've taken up with the Guild recently."

"You are correct, sir," Dusty said. "Deacon Haven allowed me to send the letter to the head of the church in Irilian and they approved. I have already been on two hunts and have helped solve two of the beasts' problems."

Reverend Hale smiled and his pale-green eyes shone with approval. "Good to hear. There are few better representatives of the Order I would have from here in the Guild's ranks. I remember you in the classes and how well you took to the Scriptures, both your reading and analysis."

"It has saved me and others once or twice," Dusty said. "Both literally and figuratively; I may have brought two souls back to salvation and found the strength to calm rampaging beasts."

Reverend Hale clasped a hand warmly onto Dusty's shoulder. "Dear boy, it is good to hear of one of your profession who walks in faith as much as you do. Sometimes I worry that some of the Order are in it for the glory of a warrior's profession, but you have the strength of faith to be humble despite of it. All the better when those beasts are out there causing temptation for those who encounter them."

Dusty cocked his head in confusion. "I've heard of them draining magic, but what do you mean by 'causing temptation'? This is new to me."

The cougar sat down in a pew with a sigh and the crow's feet on his eyes became more wrinkled. "Those who survive the encounters with beasts lately often go off and become beasts themselves. Sometimes they go out and gain their powers, learning new magics that are unholy and abominations to the tenants of the Guild. And sometimes they become tainted by corrupted energies, losing their memories as well as their feelings."

Dusty was almost about to tell him of his encounters with Reeve and Bernard, but something about Reverend Hale's disparaging tone made him stop. It would not have been right to explain it. Perhaps to Brother Thomas - the mouse was a font of advice both faithful and good - but not to the cougar. He settled on: "Then it must be getting worse, for I have now faced down two of them that showed signs of corruption."

Reverend Hale still perked up. "What did you see?"

Half the truth wouldn't hurt. "Their eyes became glassy and almost devoid of color, and there was a dark aura around them."

Reverend Hale nodded slowly. "Yes, those are signs of but the early stages of corruption, a sign that one has fallen from the path of grace. Eventually, the memories fade, the person becomes as mindless as a feral. They become gaunt and filled with pestilence, covered in sores and bruises and scabs as mange, and hunger not for food or drink but for magic within - for lifeblood. And from the moment they sense a being nearby who has it, they will not stop until it has become their own."

Dusty decided to try a simple question to see what Reverend Hale thought. "What if the corruption could be reversed?"

"I don't believe it could," the cougar said without much thought. "Not that it can't; just as there is always a way for a sinner to come back to the path of grace, so I believe that the corruption isn't a death sentence. I just think that the amount of magic it would take for that to happen is far more than the Creator has endowed any of us with. Even those who have shone proficiency in blessings like the Order do not have the strength on their own to solve an issue like that."

Dusty thought about the Restoration spell that Brother Thomas gave him. Comparatively he had needed more energy to launch off a shock-wave or store power in his sword than he did to pull off a relatively small healing spell on Reeve's tail. And the results it gave were quite surprising for how little effort it took. One more prying question was needed. "What about something like the Prayer of Restoration?"

"A surprisingly advanced blessing, one that would likely draw most of the power out of an individual and leave them weak for a long time. Similar to the magic-draining, but without the problem of a mind tainted by corruption. And often we do not have the energy or the opening to use it; some have tried but without success."

"A copy was given to me upon my entrance into the Hunters' Guild. It must have been approved by the higher-ups."

Reverend Hale looked at Dusty with astonishment. "Though I am surprised, I understand the logic of the church. You place yourself right into the path of the beasts, it is worth it at least to try and see if it might work. Still, I would advise against it; it very much is an all-or-nothing sort of blessing, one that you'd better hope it works or else you might not have the energy to defend yourself afterwards."

Now is when Dusty refrained from saying any more. "You have given me much to think about in my hunting of beasts, and of the corruption. I thank you, Reverend."

"If you have already rid us of two of the beasts, then that is far more than most can say. The Order has chosen their candidate well; I pray for your continued success."

The conversation with Reverend Hale had been enlightening in a fashion, though not in the way Dusty had expected. The strange magic Dusty had encountered seemed almost wound up with the growing corruption he was facing. Both Bernard and Reeve had soon turned corrupted and unleashed their magic without tempering it in the slightest. Even without the magic-draining happening in either situation, both of them had displayed something significantly magically wrong with them.

Not only that, both of their spell types seemed designed to disorient, confuse, and dissuade, something that did seem to align with Reverend Hale's interpretation. Bernard's spore-creation had made him feel drunk and almost drawn to the skunk, while Reeve's magic bound him up in strange ways and made it rather difficult to fight back. The magic seemed to not just attack people physically but make them lose their will to fight.

So despite Dusty thinking of ways to escape for seven hours, what kept him there? There was an old tenant of magic that Dusty had learned from his classes with the Order that seemed to hold true: if you wanted to perform a certain magic, the more powerful the effect would be. If you did not want to perform that same magic, you could still draw out the power to create it but it wouldn't be as strong. If, for example, Dusty wanted to bring power to his sword but accidentally caused a shock-wave, the pulse and range of the shock-wave wouldn't be so large as if he had meant to do it. This was even stated by Reeve himself; he wanted to keep Dusty out-of-commission for as long as possible.

But that meant this strange magic likely followed most of the same rules and regulations in its use and that Reeve's "strange" magic was closer to the blessings than Dusty once thought. He'd even poked at it with his own magic and found it not indistinguishable, merely a different classification. The thing that denied this use was the even stranger magic spell that had allowed Dusty to break free at a time when all other spells were blocked off.

The more Dusty thought about it, the more a second circumstance seemed to pop up. What if magic was a two-way street? Dusty had been restrained but not uncomfortable during his time around Reeve's magic, and it was only when he realized the overarching danger that Reeve's corruption placed them all in that he broke out. Similarly, there was a surprising drop to calm and peaceful relaxation when he had let himself succumb to Bernard's sleep-inducing spores when but a few moments earlier he had been fighting against them. So what if it worked that effectively because Dusty had a vague interest in it and allowed himself to be logical, and didn't work when he figured there was a more pressing matter?

Dusty had to stop himself. If that latter one was true, then according to Reverend Hale's logic he was fine with associating with beasts - who seemed to be the only ones with this power - and could be branded a heretic. Also the general rules of magic had been mostly known for years and this sort of call-and-response theory of magic's effectiveness could also brand him as a heretic. Besides, there was enough legitimacy to the first part of it to explain most of what happened anyways.

But a second thing had also cropped up. Dusty wondered how an otherwise normal person and simple petty thief would suddenly gain a rather astounding magical boost in order to cast something like that. His only clues were that Reeve was hiding something and refused to tell what he had done with his years in exile. Dusty was sure he'd gained it then - evidence from the Whitewater informants led to him not having it before - but where did he learn it and from whom?

It was quite clear to the coyote he would need to go back and pay a visit to Reeve Thomas. And he would willingly subject himself to that power again if he needed to bargain with... hold on a minute, how did THAT thought jump into his head so easily? Obviously he would if it was the only way, but there was no sense in going crazy and suggesting it. The rat seemed otherwise amenable to his return and wouldn't need any coaxing or convincing. Quite clearly it was not a good idea to go back so soon, at least while the encounter was fresh in his mind.

Reeve's encounter did, however, give an extra perspective. Neither Bernard's nor Reeve's magic had ever been explained in the church's records and it would require the extra insight. It seemed to operate on the same magical tenants, but if there were more types of this new and unresearched magic out there, then someone needed to go talk to the rat and see where that was coming from. And that person was, in all likelihood, going to be Dusty Yote himself.

But now Dusty had made the rat a promise, essentially, to not sell him out. If Reeve really did stop his crime spree and only targeted genuine criminals, then he would be betraying his end of the bargain. If only he hadn't spoken so foolishly back in the fortress! The only way now would be to know for himself and spread that knowledge with those he felt secure with, or use it himself to dispatch beasts for the Guild. Either way felt like deceit and breaking the rat's trust behind his back.

Dusty resolved, heading up to the Guild headquarters, not to do that for now. He would not go back to Reeve unless a series of events conspired such that the rat's abilities were no longer an isolated case. If a trail of beasts or a trail of magic began to emerge, then the rat may be the only way to find a route back to the source.

---

It was now nearly midday and the Guild hall was open for business. The bull seemed pleased to see the coyote and quickly ushered him over to his desk. "Well, have you anything to report on the case of Reeve Thomas?"

"Yes, sir," Dusty said. He pulled out the cut piece of the rat's tail from his pocket. "Here is the tail-tip of Master Reeve. And I have further news to report as to his train of thievery."

"The tail-tip alone is impressive, and within only a few days." Guildmaster Radan got up and went to affix a small bronze clasp to the tail-tip, apparently to be worn as a token in the same manner as the skunk tail. "But you may regale the details of how you came by it later. What is the news?"

"Master Reeve is convinced that his actions were overstepping his boundaries and disproportionate to what happened. He will no longer target coaches along the road between Whitewater and Riverwood and keep to genuine criminals, returning the stolen goods as he would before."

"Excellent, most excellent news you bring! At a time when I have been receiving dreadful news since yesterday, it is most welcome." He gave the token back to Dusty as part of the "payment" for the completed mission. "Were you able to broker a pardon agreement with him?"

"Forgive me, sir, but he did not seem keen on coming in to do so yet." Dusty pocketed the token as he continued. "I think it is partly due to his reputation and partly due to his deciding to lay low for a while given what I told him. He may also have a general distrust of the guards due to his background of false accusations, so it may be a while before he comes around to it."

"A fair enough interpretation of events," Radan said, sitting down again. "So long as he keeps his end of the bargain you made with him, we may be able to consider him solved for the time being. I would say 'tamed', but I am hesitant to do so without knowing much about his powers."

"To be quite honest with you, sir, I also have questions about his abilities. But I don't think he'll give them away so easily. He may need time, and it may also be one of the reasons he wishes to stay away from any pardon as yet."

"And I doubt his guard will be lowered at all, either. I may have to send you to him at some point, but I am quite full with more pressing matters. If Master Reeve keeps his word, then knowing where his powers come from will be the least of my problems."

"Have you another hunt for me, sir?"

Radan ran a hand over his head. "I've had enough problems keeping trackers on this particular situation that I don't dare call a single Hunter to this duty without reasonable assurance. I won't say any more for the time being, but give me a few more weeks and a few more chances on this one. If it doesn't work out as well as I'd hoped, I may call you in for tracking duties given your string of recent successes."

"I should like to see the tracking side of things, sir," Dusty said with his tail wagging. "I quite enjoyed my experience learning about it with Miss Julienne."

"And you may work with her again soon, but for now she's one of our best Trackers and I'm not sending her on this one, either. That should keep you satiated for how dire I consider this. But never mind that. You have more than earned your continued work with the Guild. Wear your new token with pride, and I shall contact you as soon as another mission presents itself... for good or ill."

Dusty and Radan stood up and shook hands with each other. Dusty left, but did not pin the token to his belt. He kept it in his pocket as a reminder of his promise, and figured it best not to boast about it. Though he didn't know how fickle the rat could get, it felt like another way of betraying Reeve, and it did not sit well with him.

Dusty figured it would take a while after he had left before Guildmaster Radan would find him another mission. Radan keeping him towards more sensitive targets might have been a good thing in that regard, as he was not often required to test his mettle. Less often did he think about Reeve after a while, and so the coyote enjoyed a few weeks of relative tranquility. As time passed, however, Dusty became unnerved.

It started with the missing persons' bulletins appearing more often in town after about a week. Woodsmen or gatherers, mostly, but as time went on, some of them started to show as farmers or town guards. Dusty noticed they all seemed to have the same circumstances in their disappearance. They heard a voice or saw something that they felt compelled to figure out what it was, almost like a magical pull in that direction. Once they had gone a certain distance, something came from shadows or behind a bush, grabbed them, and dragged them off. No sign was seen of them afterwards except maybe a few things dropped in surprise at the site of their last known location.

Individuals were noted as about to go about their normal task outside of town before they just never came back. Though people were often encouraged to go along with partners, sometimes one of a group of three or even four would be lured off. None of them seemed to fit with Reeve's description, which heartened Dusty that maybe the rat had taken his word. Besides, it did not seem his style.

One of the "missing persons" bulletins about a week later took Dusty off-guard. The "missing" was put up for one skunk by the name of Bernard Cooper. Taller than average, seemed to live inside the woods, but the woodsmen had seen no sign of him lately. They seemed to suspect he had been taken away by the same thing, but at the bottom was another note. "Bernard may have been rowdy sometimes, but he was our friend, and seemed to protect us from whatever this thing is. We need our friend back."

At this Dusty felt extraordinarily guilty. He had meant only to stop the skunk from draining the magic from the woodsmen or else not using his strange magic if it was tied to the corruption. Had he known how crucial the skunk really was to keeping the woodsmen safe, he may not even have attacked or accused as fast as he did. Despite his supposed "delicate" handling of it, even that had been a bit too harsh as the fallout spread.

A week later, it got worse from a sign that was supposed to mean things were getting better. The missing persons bulletins were being torn down. Dusty initially passed one them joy thinking that the subject had come back, but upon closer inspection realized that it was torn as though in anger; shreds still hung to the public notice boards.

The church bells rang as though in a funeral. Dusty, knowing his membership with the Order would allow him to stand vigil along the route from the church to the cemetery, found the procession and made his way to an open spot along the route. He took off his circlet and held it respectfully at his breast and bowed his head as he normally would. The procession came forth with the open casket; at the cemetery they would be allowed to perform last rites before the coffin was closed and buried.

His spot along the route and the open coffin allowed him to see within at the face. What might once have been a healthy young man was a drained and emaciated husk, and what little of his eyes Dusty could see were glassy and without color. Once the procession had fully passed, Dusty asked one of his fellow Order members what the man had died of; the member replied that they had experienced a brutal magic draining and were found outside of town, but it was too late to offer healing services. Corruption having spread through him too fast and his magic too drained, he died the night he was brought back into town.

---

Over a month after Dusty had come back from Reeve's hideout, it seemed the church bells were going off every other day. What processions he managed to see were all those who had gone into the woods and been drained. The coyote was not about to sit idly by, and immediately stormed to the Hunters' Guild hall to see if Radan was available.

The bull was sitting at his desk pouring over papers looking quite disturbed. He looked up and sighed. "I'm sorry, Dusty, I don't have anything for you at the moment. I have a major problem on my hands and I don't know how to solve it."

"Please, sir," Dusty implored, "let me help you. I have faced two cases of a strange magic lately and I want to know if a third is on the loose. Both Bernard and Reeve had powers I've never seen before, and Reverend Hale thinks these new powers might be related to the aspects of corruption we have seen around the village."

Radan sighed. "Well, any information is good at this point. What have you forgotten to tell me?"

"Sir, I beg your pardon, but both Bernard and Reeve showed aspects of corruption when I stood against them - glassy and colorless eyes, a strong dark aura, and golden lines like veins around their heads. They were both corrupted, but Reeve was cured when I healed his tail."

The bull nearly fell out of his chair and his horns drew divots in the wall behind him. He quickly gathered himself up and looked at Dusty with wide eyes. "Wh-what are you saying, Master Yote!?"

"I have been brought back to two things about my conversation with Master Reeve. The first is that I have checked the Order's library and not found anything related to his or Bernard's magic. Reeve placed me in magical bounds that seemed to require a special spell to remove. Bernard summoned up various types of spores out of thin air. The second is that both have showed signs of corruption and I was able to free them both from it; Bernard through show of force and Reeve by healing and sparing his life."

"What do you mean?"

"Sir, most of the bulletins recognize it as a sort of magical compulsion that draws people away. If this magic is at all related to the spells the other two have shown, then there may be a connection between the beasts, the magic-draining, and the strange magic the other two have had. Bernard's, for example, had a type of spore that made me feel drunk and compelled me towards him; perhaps it is something similar."

Radan leaned on the desk and bit at his nails.

"Please, sir. If I can find more evidence of this strange magic, I might be able to bring it to Master Reeve as evidence of an epidemic and find out the source of it. And, given my own ability to escape without problems twice now, I may be able to find this creature and subject myself to it enough to know where it comes from."

Radan sighed again. "Dusty, against all doubt, I believe you, for were you actually joking, you might have been more serious. There is no need to convince me. But I am trying to figure what I can say to talk you out of it. Perhaps you got lucky before, but what now if death is being added in to what is caused by these magics?"

Dusty glared at Radan. "I think I know what bothers you. You have been trying to send people off beforehand but none of them have succeeded. Is that not correct?"

"It is, but it is far worse than that. Not only was your information about Bernard's own beast correct, but it is far worse than anything the skunk ever did. What lies in the northern woods is very serpentine, and quite large as it seems to absorb magic to increase its own power. One or two of the missing persons are, in fact, trackers of our Guild, and one hunter who tried taking it on at a lark has since been in convalescence."

Radan stood up and began pacing about the room. "In truth, I would have questioned your theory about the strange magic if not for our trackers saying the same thing. It felt like a compulsion, that they needed to follow, but also they had felt similar things when they had gone to the Order for healing magics. They are having trouble, but know not the power they are facing against."

"Give me a sample. What has been going on?"

Guildmaster Radan said nothing. He looked out of one of the windows of the Guild hall onto a small plaza. After a while, he turned around to Dusty with a look of grim but renewed determination on his face. "I am not assigning this to you as a Hunter, Master Yote. I am going to assign it to you as a Tracker. It is still gathering information, but I need a complete chain of events and you will have access to poke at the strange magic without too much risk."

"Then who is to be the Hunter?"

"It may be you. It may be another to whom I am trying to send a letter. But he has disappeared for a while on a personal quest and I have not seen him since. I shall wait until I believe him to be beyond correspondence, and then send you if you should feel up for it."

"Well, let me do the Tracker portion at least and see what that kind of business is like. What information do we have so far?"

"In all honesty, nothing specific apart from what you have surmised. There is a serpent-like beast out in the woods. Bernard might have been protecting the woodsmen from it, which is why they entered that truce with him. Some of the woodsmen might be better aware than we do about the circumstances. But all we know so far is that there is an almost compulsive need to investigate something before they are taken away."

"Alright. As a Tracker, what is my job aside from piecing together who and what the beast is?"

"Well, this one is kind of obvious. We have perhaps two leads in the woodsmen's camp and in Bernard - if he's still around. We need the full story if we can, and since they both share a similar magic it may be good to ask him what the difference is and why it scares him. The loggers may be able to give you some of that information by proxy. Figure out what the beast is, its targets, its hunting grounds, and how formidable it is. From this we can assemble a profile that you or other Hunters can have on-hand to figure out how best to take it down."

"Very well. I will start with the wood-cutter's camp and see what they know about either the beast or Bernard's whereabouts."

"As good a place as any. And Master Yote... thank you."

"It is the duty of the Order to protect this village however possible, sir. If that includes placing myself in harm's way so that others may know how to better protect us, then I am willing to do so."

---

Dusty waited until the following morning to begin his mission. His first order of business was to go to the woodcutter's base and see if they knew anything about Bernard. He woke up bright and early while the light was still muted and the air crisp and cold. He put on his armor and an extra cloak for protection and headed off north towards the woods.

He arrived in good time. The men were heading out from a wooden hall with smoke rising from it - likely a mess hall, Dusty reasoned - and were heading to their respective buildings to gather and sharpen their tools. They likely would be heading out soon, and Dusty asked if he could tag along and ask a few questions about things seen out in the woods lately. Noticing his Hunters Guild badge, they allowed him to pick a group and follow along.

He saddled himself with a gruff and somewhat grizzled gray dog almost as tall as himself with a bristly mustache. He introduced himself as Bron. He was one of the older members of the group but now mostly served to keep new recruits in line. He was still a strong fellow and wielded an ax as good as anyone else and they kept him to good work. It was dangerous work, according to Bron as he went over his ax with a whetstone, and easy to hurt yourself. But the pay was good for a hard-laboring job, and so long as you were careful a week's tenure in the woods was usually rewarded well.

"Do you know of the skunk Bernard?" Dusty asked. They had finished preparations and headed out on the road to the forest's edge.

Bron, who carried his ax over his shoulder and a small satchel on his back, thought a bit. "I've worked with him once or twice. I've heard of some men who'd go off with him, but not much more."

"What do you think of him as a worker?"

"Good, strong lad," Bron said, shifting his ax. "Could outstrip a beaver in how quick and efficient he was, and often did as much by himself as may take two or three men to do. Seems he would buy the wood at a discount price and take a few logs home with him in a sling as his 'payment'. Cheaper than most of us make from this, really, but they kind of let him have his way."

"What do you know about his magic powers?"

"I never really noticed anything. He didn't cast anything like you guys would do from the Order, at least. But there was something about him that I can't place my finger on. Almost like he had some sort of strange charm about him."

"What do you mean?"

"I ain't quite sure how to put it," Bron shrugged. "It's like... when he came up we were all glad to see him 'cause he put in his work. Then he'd sometimes roam around and check in on us, make sure we were taking breaks, sometimes giving us food and water if we looked like we needed something. Like a senior foreman, only we knew he wasn't from the logging company. And when he pointed out one of the men in particular and told us he needed to go with him that night we just... kind of let him do it. Oh, we always asked if the guy would agree to go, but even if he knew what was about to happen he'd almost always say 'yes'."

"And what would happen when you all went away for the day?"

"That's when the grumbling would start. Who is he, what does he think he's doing, what exactly is he taking that guy away for anyways. Wouldn't tell us nothing about himself or his reasons, just that this is the one. Then the guy would turn up in a day or two feeling a little out-of-sorts, take a day or two of sick, and head back to work. But it'd take a while for them to get picked again."

"Is there any reason you might guess why someone would get picked?"

Bron shook his head. "None that I can say, no."

"Okay. Now I want to move away and ask you: have you seen anything strange recently?"

Bron hummed thoughtfully and went silent for a long while. Dusty waited patiently for the gray dog to speak. "Well," he finally said at last, "there's been a lot of guys what think there's something crawling around out there. Or they keep hearing these strange noises and some of 'em want to go out and investigate it."

"What kind of noises?"

"It's never anything specific. They speak in cryptic phrases. They hear something rustling in the underbrush, or 'whispers on the wind'. Or sometimes they'll hear a weird hum paired with something glowing off in the distance. There ain't any musicians among us so far as I know, and no one brings any lanterns or any magic shining stones with them, so I don't know what they're talking about."

"Has anyone gone off to investigate?"

Bron puffed his chest out proudly. "I'm usually able to keep my charges in-line - a stern bark and a few choice words and they're back to business as usual." The dog's chest deflated. "But it's been getting harder lately, and a few of 'em have just gone and disappeared lately. Same reports, but something strikes me odd lately."

"What's that?"

"The noises are very specific. Only one guy who hears 'em at a time. Forty men are out there, all of 'em chopping and shouting and running and crashing. We make a fair amount of noise. You have to, either to warn 'em of something going wrong or just general safety. And then some of that noise is just to get over the rest of the noise. But then one guy hears something quiet, like an undercurrent, and that's all he wants to hear, until one of us gets him back to work with something sharp."

"Give me an example."

"You hear how loud we're talking right now? Normal conversation? Can't hardly hear that once the work gets going. It'd be like someone whispering from ten feet away. So something off in the woods whispering shouldn't be heard at all. Yet they are." Bron shivered. "I ain't normally the type to get spooked easily, but the more I think about it the more it makes me just... uncomfortable."

---

They had soon reached the forest's edge and it was Bron's job to get his recruits in order. He excused himself and Dusty let him get to work.

He wandered about a bit exploring the operation. There seemed to be four teams of woodcutters, with one foreman and eight or nine workers to a team, as well as another main foreman who went around checking everything. The supervisors would get their men and gear together, head to the main foreman for their plot, and start working. Most of the team was divided into cutting down trees, two at a log, while the remainder had bags of seeds and would go behind and plant new trees.

"Well, I see there's already a member of the Order here," came a purring voice as Dusty watched the proceedings. "It seems like the situation is covered, then."

Dusty turned around to see who had addressed him. His eyes widened on seeing the big cat behind him. He was about a head taller than the coyote, with fur the color of parched grass with a lighter muzzle and chest, a large darker brown ruff of fur with red highlights that surrounded his head, and fire-orange eyes. He was relatively-well built as Dusty saw through the armor on his arms, but he had a slight belly, enough to see he likely wore larger than what his body would suggest.

He was also ridiculously handsome. Though Dusty had never seen such a ruff of fur around a face like that, it was well-tended and seemed to have been washed and brushed recently, flowing down around his shoulders to his chest. His face was well-defined, sharper than the cougars around but somehow smoother, with warmth from the small smile on his face and a spark of something in his eyes. It was well-accentuated by his armor: dark and ruddy leather with dark bluish-green jacket and pants, and some strange hat of puffy cloth almost like a turban on his head. A spear he wore in a fitting on his back, and a small buckler shield - slightly smaller than Dusty's heater shield - was slung over it.

And at his breast, the sigil of the eye on the winged stave: the mark of the Beast Hunters' Guild.

At Dusty's turning, the big cat gave him a once-over and he saw the cat's eyes widen as they looked from his breast to his belt. "A fellow Hunter!" he said in a voice clear and warm and smooth. "I did not expect old Radan to have sent someone out here so quickly. I meant to come and lend my aid sooner, but it seems we are in good paws here already."

"A fellow Hunter is a good sign with what we are dealing with lately," Dusty said. "But you will have to excuse me. I haven't seen anything like you around here. If you don't mind me asking, what are you? I've never seen a cat wear fur like a crown."

The big cat laughed. "The confusion is obvious, but I quite enjoy that comparison! Back home, I would be known as al'asad, but I am what you might know as a 'lion'. A cat of the savanna am I, my people as large and proud as myself, but truthfully here in the west is my home."

"Lion..." The word rolled neatly enough off Dusty's tongue and it seemed fitting for something like the big cat standing in front of him. But there was more time to puzzle over that later. "Ahem... it seems you are already aware of what is going on here. I do not mean to be brief with you, but as it stands I am here not as a Hunter but a Tracker, trying to figure out the very things you mentioned. But based on what I've picked up so far, it may be better that there is a second one of us out here."

"Then do not be brief!" said the 'lion'. "Let us acquaint ourselves with one another, and perhaps we can help each other out. I know this area well and have much information to give. But if Radan sent you as a Tracker then perhaps you might know something I don't." He bowed. "Kuroga Asteran at your service: veteran Hunter, avid explorer, and occasional student of sorcery. And who might our newest recruit be?"

"My name is Dusty Yote," the coyote replied. He bowed back, feeling it proper that he did so. "You have guessed correctly in what I am. I came originally from the Order of the Holy Cross, but have joined the Hunters Guild in defense of the people. Though my status within the Guild is strange lately, for I have talked down more than I have beaten in combat, though I am not defenseless."

"No indeed!" Kuroga exclaimed. "Even standing here, I sense a well of magic within you that is far larger than many others here. I am quite surprised as yet you are not a beacon for many of these beasts and one has not popped out of the woods right now. And while it is good to talk down rather than to engage, I believe, it is certainly not without merits that the Guild needs strong fighters."

"So it seems," Dusty said. "For what I have heard so far, this one may need it."

"Come then, my friend." Kuroga extended a paw and beckoned. "Let us walk and follow the woodsmen, and we shall trade our information."

The offer was agreeable to Dusty, though he felt an odd flush in his cheeks at the way Kuroga seemed to purr while saying "my friend". That aside, the 'lion' had fine manners and it was no difficult decision to walk with him.

As they walked, Dusty gave everything he had cleaned from the missing persons posters in town. He also told Kuroga about Radan's information from the last Tracker to come back alive, and that the last Hunter who had encounter it was dead. He chose to leave out a great deal of his encounters with the strange magic types aside, though the impulse to tell the lion was great and he did not know why.

Kuroga, for his part, was an attentive listener. He nodded at points and occasionally double-backed for clarification, but mostly kept quiet and let the coyote ramble about what he had learned so far. At the end of it, with the new information gained from Bron and Dusty finally going quiet, Kuroga spoke up again.

"I had not expected to get so far and learn so much in so little time," the lion said. "Of course, that one piece of information was weeks in the finding, but otherwise you have picked this Tracking business up quite fast. I should expect so from one who has spent time with the Order. I do not like many of their aspects, but they do have quite the learning and research skills... if it fits their motives."

"I shall momentarily forgive your slight at my Order," Dusty said, feeling simultaneously prideful and peeved at the comment. "But I have given you all but one piece, and then I might need your help to fill the gaps."

"I suspect two pieces are missing, but I shall satisfy myself with one for the moment."

"It is somewhat ironic that I am the one out here doing this," Dusty confessed. "You see, upon my introduction to the Hunters' Guild some couple of months ago, I have now been on two prior missions. And the first of which was to seek out a skunk that was causing trouble upon the woodsmen. But it seems the skunk may have been blamed for damage that this actual beast is doing, and does so far more maliciously than we had originally thought."

"Please tell me you did not wallop poor Bernard," Kuroga said. "I've had the fortune to meet with him a few times and found him quite wonderful company."

"No," Dusty said, "though he initially thought I had come to accuse and pass judgment and I did have to spar with him a bit. Though in the end, the differences were settled without much more than a scratch or two on either side."

"Now I shall forgive you for sparring with him," Kuroga laughed. "I have long known our dear Bernard and can tell you he would not lay a finger on anyone out of dark designs. There is much that I can tell you, but I sense that Bernard figures more into your plans today than just correcting a mistake."

"Apart from such," Dusty said, "I need more information on our current quarry from what I can assume is a direct witness. But the woodsmen have not seen him since our previous encounter and I have little idea where he might be."

"Then perhaps it is a good thing I am here after all," Kuroga said. He gently laid a very large paw on Dusty's shoulder. "I know where he lives, and if he is not home, we may have some clues as to his whereabouts. It will also be better to talk away from the woodsmen as to not trouble them any further. Will you accept my partnership on this?"

"It... it would be my pleasure." Once again Dusty felt his cheeks get hot at the statement. He sensed that Kuroga would be as likely to take him to the tavern for a drink as join him in the woods. But the lion's sense of duty seemed to keep the prior feelings reigned in until the mission was finished. Amused by the lion's attentions, Dusty followed behind into the woods and could only hope he would act the same and not let it get in the way.