Scout ran for her life from the madman that had just emerged from that cave, crunching dry red and orange autumn leaves beneath her feet. The shock of seeing the bloodied human had made her steps clumsy, and she quickly corrected her stride. Despite her renowned stealth, she had been spotted. Not by goblins, but an honest and true madman. He ranted and raved incoherently as he pursued her, not letting up his chase. Scout had just wanted to confirm the existence of a goblin cave in this area, she hadn't been expecting this! How had a human spotted her in the dark? Even under the full light of the twin moons, it should have been impossible. Her body glove was enchanted in a way that allowed it to change color to match her surroundings perfectly.

She had been hard to spot by normal humans; even in broad daylight, but that human had somehow seen her!

"I'll fucking kill you!" He shouted, weaving between trees and hopping over brush as he went "Put your head on a stake bastard!"

How was he still on her trail? Why was he so damned fast? He was a human. His kind should have never been able to keep up with her in the forest. This was her domain, yet he moved with as much skill as any elf through the trees. His clothing dripped with blood as he ran, and his strange axe looked as if it had a razor-sharp edge. Scout had never seen one quite like it before. The haft was long and was as black as the axe head. In contrast, the knob was a bright yellow color, though it looked to be made of the same smooth-looking material. The knob curved up sharply toward the belly of the axe, giving the madman an excellent grip on his weapon.

One could deliver a powerful swing with an axe like that, and based on the heavy set thickness of his hairy forearms he was accustomed to that task. Chunks of red and white gore clung to parts of the blade, dripping with blood. Had he killed all the goblins in that cave? He must have. Scout saw a bouncing green head tied to his belt as he chased her through the woods. They ran beneath trees, green and pink moonlight shining down between the autumn leaves above. Thankfully autumn had only just started, leaving the ground beneath their branches mostly clear of the colorful flora.

Scout weaved through the trees, but the madman stayed on her no matter how many times she tried to misdirect him. Who was this man? Was this that Goblin Slayer she had heard about? Did he think she was a goblin? Scout glanced back again, seeing his feral form dogging her steps. She doubted it, she had heard that he always wore a full suit of armor. This man wore clothing, not armor. She looked back ahead, knowing that the land held a few obstacles just ahead that she could use to shake the madman off her trail.

Scout hopped over a large rock, smoothly rolling to her feet and continuing her flight. She heard a grunt from behind her followed by the sound of landing feet. Had he not even rolled with his jump? It didn't matter, she should have widened the gap with her maneuver.

Much to her horror, she felt fingers brush against her back. She turned her head to see that the madman had gained on her and was only an arm span away. His hand returned to grip the handle of the axe. He had touched her. It may have only have been for an instant, but the fact that he was even capable of getting that close...

It was then that Scout, for the first time on this trip, felt genuine fear. She saw no humanity in those wild eyes of his. Frothy slobber coated his beard as he screamed at her. The fear gave her the shot of adrenaline she needed, and she widened the gap, legs working harder than they ever had before.

He screamed in anger and she heard something sharp swing through the air. She looked back and saw him swinging his axe with feverish intent through the air as he went. He did not slow doing so, but his breathing was starting to get labored. That was right, her suit covered her head to toe… she may as well be invisible to his naked eye. He had to be swinging like that because he thought that Scout was within reach. Scout wondered then, just how he was still on her like a hound. She leaped over a fallen log, and she heard the madman copy the motion, heavy feet hitting the dirt behind her. She stepped lightly despite her frantic sprint, not kicking up any leaves or dirt as she went.

Her eyes widened with realization, but she dared not slow down now. This madman was following her trail as she made it! Her light feet were almost impossible to track by anyone; any trail she left would be nigh invisible. Her footprints would have only left the smallest of ridges in the soil. Could he see those faint footsteps?

If so, then there was only one way to lose this guy… Running faster than she ever had before, she widened the gap again, seeing a tree with low hanging branches ahead. As she approached, she leaped, hands expertly wrapping around the wrist-thick branch as she swung herself up atop it. The branch hadn't even shifted under her weight as Scout spread her mass evenly over its surface; her chest flat against the wood as she wrapped her limbs around the branch.

As she suspected, when the ground trail vanished to his eyes, he paused his pursuit. Scout didn't breathe despite the burning in her lungs. Had he seen the branch shift? Scout had pulled off that move perfectly… but he has proved full of surprises. If he did, then she needed to scurry up this tree and hop to the next one fast. He didn't keep running through the forest or make any other sound besides enraged breathing. He looked in every direction around him and howled like some kind of feral beast. He then looked up, almost making Scout jump. He was looking right at her.

The madman cocked his head as he narrowed his gaze in her direction. By the gods, he could tell that there was something wrong with the branch!? He grabbed the long black light-casting device he had placed in his pocket upon leaving the cave and pressed a button near its end. Bright light engulfed her, and she shut her eyes in response.

"Die you freak!" He screamed.

Scout rushed across the branch just before she heard something bite into the wood. That had been where she just was a second ago. He screamed again, hacking at the branch until it collapsed. Scout was already off that branch and onto another one in a different tree. Confident with how high up she was, she continued to observe him. Seemingly frustrated at his lost catch, he kicked at the broken branch, knocking it away by a few feet.

Scout's instincts were screaming at her to get away that instant, but another part of her wanted to see what he was going to do next. She was scared yes, but she was possessed by a strong curiosity to learn more about the madman. That intense feeling of curiosity was a curse that she had been trying to defeat her entire life, but she knew that in the end she wouldn't be able to overpower it. So she observed.

He took a deep breath suddenly and straightened his back. The madman continued to breathe deeply, seeming to try and calm himself. He pulled the large bag off his back, and began rummaging through it. Scout moved silently to another nearby branch on her new tree. The limb was thinner than the one she had escaped on, and several leaves shuddered as she passed, stopping directly over the madman. Scout estimated that if she were to fall from her current height, there was a good chance that she would die. Heights had never bothered her though, so Scout didn't think much of it.

What was inside that sack? Had he found treasures down in those depths? The treasures that she had been searching for? She was unable to see past that untamed mop of long brown hair into the bag, unfortunately. He made some adjustments, his motions looking as if he were wrapping something. He then slung a smaller bag over his shoulder…

Oh no.

That was a quiver, she was certain of it. Meaning that he had a bow. Deciding that her curiosity was sated for one day, she moved to go back to camp. She had much to report back to Prowler. Bright white light then filled her vision, and something whizzed through the air next to her. She froze in shock. Sharp pain then erupted from her left forearm as a black arrow found purchase within her flesh. The point emerged from the other end. Blood oozed from the entry and exit wound. She yelped in pain, clutching her wounded arm as she darted across the branch, no longer caring for stealth.

What had tipped him off? She risked a glance back and saw a couple of leaves descending in the pink and green moonlight. Had it been that simple!? A single fallen leaf exposed her!? More arrows flew, several coming dangerously close to hitting her. Two arrows thunked into the trunk of the tree, where she had just been a second before. If he could find her as easily as he had before, then the madman would barely have to try now that she was leaving a bright red trail for him to follow. The white light followed her as she hopped from branch to branch.

Her only hope was the trees, if she tried to escape on the ground then the madman would kill her for sure. Scout would have to hop branch to branch for the rest of the night, and she still had to lose this psycho if she wanted to get even that far. Ignoring her pain, she began hopping from branches and ascending as she did so, favoring her uninjured limb. Eventually, the arrows stopped firing, as there were now too many branches in these high trees for him to be able to hit her.

Would he climb after her? Maybe he would, but she sincerely doubted it. She let out a soft whimper of agony as she clutched her wounded arm. She had to remove this arrow. It was made of a material she had never seen before… It was very flexible. Best to just get back to camp and get it removed there. Medic would have a potion for her, she just needed to make it back. She kept the pressure on the exit wound as she went.

Scout looked back to see the white light scanning the trees, thankfully nowhere near her. Angered screams echoed throughout the forest, and she moved away from the light as the glow moved off in the opposite direction. Finally, she had lost that loon. Her heart was still pounding when she got back to camp. Sunlight was just beginning to peak on the horizon, a calm gray color setting in on her surroundings.

She felt pale from the blood loss, and looked forward to the potion that Medic would provide for her. A dozen black canvas tents flapped lightly in the soft wind, their occupants moving in and out as they carried out their duties. Several stumps of what had once been trees surrounded the site like a graveyard. Scout averted her eyes from the gruesome sight, reminding herself that these trees didn't have souls like the ones in her homeland. Living wood, but without a soul, that made it okay… right?

The logs had been sharpened and set in a circle around the camp as a barricade against potential monster attacks, with only one break in the line for entrance. Other corpses- logs, sat stacked evenly next to that break. It was a pile that dwarfed her five times over. This had once been untamed forest before the Blackwings came.

They had made a clearing by murdering- harvesting the trees, and used the logs to make the barricade. There was talk of setting up real walls with what was left, but Prowler wasn't sure if he wanted to be a frontiersman. He had been playing with the idea, but he hadn't made a decision. His tent was the largest, dominating the center of the camp. Scout would need to go there eventually… but for now, she needed that potion.

Several men stared after her but didn't greet her as she passed through the entrance. They saw her of course, as she had pulled down her mask and hood. To them, it would look like a disembodied head was floating into their camp. Surely it was an unsettling view. She probably looked terrible, her short black hair slicked down with sweat. The tips of her sharp ears were irritated from chafing against the inside of her hood, meaning they were probably a bright red. Her eyes felt heavy as she hadn't slept last night in her scramble to escape back to base. The horrid black bags beneath her bloodshot green eyes likely hinted to her fellow mercenaries how hectic the previous night had been.

Then of course, there was the big-ass arrow sticking out of her arm. No one offered to help her to the medical tent. Men glared at her as she passed through the camp, barely taking note of the arrow sticking through her. These men were all rough-faced and heavily scarred. They found her annoying on the best of days. On the worst… She shook her head, finding her way into Medic's tent. The smell of antiseptic and boiled bandages hit her nose, a now familiar scent these days.

Medic was hunched over a muscular brute of a man in a wooden chair, threading a needle through a deep gash across the brute's shoulder. The northman glowered at her, brow low as the candlelight overhead reflected off his bald head. Like all northmen, Holom did not go by a title, but rather his true name. To Scout, that was no different than if she were to strip naked and prance about the camp, but it was the northmen's way.

Scout wasn't sure if he hated her or was merely annoyed by her, but he maintained the glare. She glared back, not letting herself be shaken by the idiot's attempts at intimidation. Medic coughed, drawing both of their attention to him.

"Would you both stop it? Can't you see that my work is hard enough without the threat of a brawl over my head?" Medic said, a frown on his clean-shaven young face "Honestly, we should have thrown you both to the goblins to make sport with, it's the least you deserve."

Medic didn't exclusively dislike her. He seemed to hate everyone in the Blackwing's. That was fair, considering that he wasn't really a member. Prowler called him a Blackwing, but really membership had been forced onto him. Prowler had needed a Medic, and since none wanted to join up with him, he had to… improvise. Medic had apparently just graduated from his studies with high honors when Prowler got a hold of him.

Now Medic couldn't leave the Blackwings. They had long since broken the poor youth after just two escape attempts. Now all that remained in Medic's dark brown eyes was hate for those around him. He wore a long black wool coat with silver buttons at the cuffs and chest. The back of the thick jacket bore the coat of the Blackwings; twin symbols in the image of red dragon wings mirrored one another, stretching from shoulder to shoulder. The other men in the camp wore the same coat, though those ones lacked the long twin tails of Medic's coat.

Medic snipped at the near-invisible stitching with a pair of small scissors, wrapping a bandage over the wound. Holom grunted when Medic finished, and stood from the chair. The brute wore a sleeveless black shirt, leaving his tree-trunk arms bare. He looked down at his bandaged shoulder, squinting at it under his low brow. Those blocky features almost made him look like an orc. Scout wouldn't be surprised if the towering man had an orcish ancestor somewhere. He smiled, and nodded at Medic. The smaller man scowled in response, and Holom frowned.

Medic lifted a finger under Holom's nose, a bulbous thing that had been broken a fair few times in the past "Take it easy or you'll tear it open. I'd rather not see you again for as long as possible. Now get out."

Holom frowned again but nodded, pulling his Blackwing coat on. He made eye contact with Scout again, the glare from the mute moron likely would have sent someone with a weaker will fleeing. Again she stood firm, and she heard Medic growl. Holom broke the glare, and shoved his way past her into the camp.

Despite Holom's apparent hate of her, the shove was surprisingly gentle. If she wasn't Prowler's favorite would Holom have tossed her to the ground? Probably. Medic looked to the arrow in her arm and rolled his eyes.

"Well, if it isn't the 'untouchable' bitch." Medic said, curling his fingers with air quotes "Looks like you finally met your match, too bad they didn't finish the job. Now get over here so we can get this over with." He finished, gesturing to the wooden chair Holom had been sitting in.

Scout bit off her retort and complied, plopping down weakly in the seat. He gently grabbed her arm, dragging a small nearby table over to them. He set her forearm on a thin metal tray and observed the wound.

"Clean through, must have been a good shot." He said, more to himself than her "But what is this made of?"

He pulled off his elastic glove and brushed a finger over the black arrow's surface, a deep frown on his face.

"Fascinating… I'll be keeping this after removal. Seems to be a semi-flexible material. Hold still, I'll use the bone saw to remove the head."

He grabbed up the aforementioned tool, the sharp teeth freshly cleaned. He tilted her arm sideways, and she gave a small grunt of pain.

"Quit being a baby." He told her scornfully as he began sawing through the shaft.

He paused his work when he noticed the fine dust falling from his sawing.

"Best not to breathe that in, keep powder away from subject..." He muttered to himself as he finished removing the head.

A small pile of fine black powder sat under the cleaved-off shaft. It had been a clean cut. He gripped the other end of the shaft.

"This is the hard part. Put pressure on the wound after I pull. We'll need you to take off that body glove to dress the injury properly-"

"No," Scout said, cutting him off "Give me one of the healing potions. Prowler will need me at my best and ready to move. You know he'll make you do it anyway, I just want to save you the trouble."

Medic scowled and ripped the shaft out of her arm without warning. Scout screeched with agony and gripped the wound to slow the bleeding. No one came to investigate her screams.

"Damn elf scum! Don't you dare pretend this is for my benefit!" He screamed at her, tossing the broken shaft on the operating table as he moved to the other end of the long tent.

A large wooden cabinet stacked full with various alchemical potions dominated that end of the tent. She grit her teeth as she saw Medic take his time finding the potion she needed. Scout knew the bastard was as familiar with the cabinet's contents as he was with his medical instruments. Finally, he picked up a small vial with a roiling red fluid within. He slowly walked over to her, and clicked his tongue with feigned frustration as he read the white tag.

"Sorry Scout… this seems to be antivenom. My mistake..."

She growled at him, and Medic sneered back, returning to the cabinet. After slowly putting the antivenom back where it belonged, he finally retrieved the correct vial. It was the same size and the color was the same as the previous vial, but this one's liquid did not roil, staying stagnant and still. He uncorked the lid and gestured for her to open her mouth.

She did, and he poured the contents down her gullet in one go. Scout almost sputtered but was expecting the immature behavior, gulping it all down.

"Reminds you that much of Prowler's cock eh?" Medic said as he placed the vial on the table.

Now he went to far. Pain retreated from her arm as the wound knit itself together. Her dizziness vanished as her lost blood was replenished. Feeling fully rejuvenated, she promptly punched Medic right in his balls. Prowler wouldn't be happy with her, but she was as indispensable to him as Medic was, he wouldn't hurt her.

Medic gasped and collapsed to the canvas floor of the tent. He wheezed as Scout towered over his slumped form.

"Never say such a thing again. The others only put up with your spite cause they aren't as important as you are." She kicked him in the face when he looked up at her, not powerful enough to knock him unconscious but strong enough to split his lip "I'm as high up as you are; Prowler won't touch me and you know it."

He looked back up to her with a particularly hateful glare "You people took my life from me!" He shouted "I was gonna get married and live out my life in the capital until you bastards conscripted me!"

Scout looked away from that glare at Medic's words. They were all true. Scout had been the one to find and stalk him to learn his schedule. Prowler had wanted a young Medic that hadn't made a name for themselves yet in any social circles. They hadn't enough money to hire a Medic honestly, so they had planned a kidnapping. Prowler hadn't liked that term, instead preferring 'Conscripting'. Scout had been the one to tell Prowler of Medic's transfer. That had been two years ago… and Scout still felt guilty for it. He had been such a happy young man back then… Would his friends and family recognize the hateful person he'd become? Scout deserved his hate, but she would not let him get away with saying such vile things to her.

"What's all this yelling about?" Said a gentle booming voice from behind her.

She quickly turned to see a towering armored form looking down at her through the narrow slits in his visor. Prowler's immense size made Holom look like a dwarf in comparison. Medic looked to the floor and did not meet the massive mans piercing gaze. Prowler's bucket helm almost brushed the top of the high tent, and as he moved forward Scout couldn't help but take a step back. He crouched down next to Medic, the black metal-plated behemoth offering a gauntleted hand to the younger man.

"Now… Children," Prowler began, his voice like rock grinding metal "What caused this?"

Scout took another step back as the helmeted head looked up at her. She could hear the disappointment in his rough tone, but not anger. Red dragon wings were painted on either side of the bucket helm, the tips touching at the back of the helmet. Otherwise, the black plate armor was smooth and unadorned, the bulky plate barely making any noise as he shifted his weight around. Medic did not look to the proffered hand, instead opting to lay there in silence. Prowler sighed and stood back up, a rising black tower of metal.

"Wings should work together to fly. You are a part of this band, my family, my Blackwings… Do not let this happen again."

Scout nodded firmly as he approached her.

"Now… I would like to hear what you have to say. What happened out there? I refuse to believe that goblins got the jump on you."

He looked to the table as he spoke, sighting the broken black shaft of the arrow. He moved over, picking it up in his gauntleted hand and bringing it up to his visor.

"No… No not goblins..." He murmured "Another band trying to move in on our job perhaps?" He finished, looking back to Scout.

Scout shook her head "No sir." She said, keeping her voice steady "It was a single human, a madman."

Prowler dropped the bow to the table in what seemed to be shock, though she could not see his face.

"You were spotted by a human?" He mused "Perhaps you are getting rusty..."

Scout shook her head again.

"No I'm not sir!" She shouted.

"Do not ever raise your voice to me Scout." Prowler said, his voice shifting to a low and dangerous tone.

Scouts breath caught. Was he threatening her of all people? Had he lost himself that much? Before she could open her mouth to apologize, he cut her off.

"Report. Now."

And so she told him everything she had found in the forest last night, his interest in the madman taking the forefront of the following discussion.