The Hunters rode from sunrise to sundown stopping only to let the several horses horses rest and eat. Alaric found the ride over the barren hills was almost calming.

Each Hunter spoke of their homes, describing them to Alaric. They each made their home sound so wild, beautiful, and exotic. The description wanted to visit each of the places in their travels.

Chas was of a line of men and women that he called the O’irin from across the Storm Sea somewhere. He said that his ancestors had left behind their land after it was destroyed by dragon’s fire and warmachines crafted by men. This was his legend at least. It had been carried down for many generations but came from a time long forgotten. He had left his home near Rhoergard and began hunting monsters before he even knew what hunters were. He was found by Tyron shortly thereafter and became an apprentice.

Lilia was from Eirone in the Northwest, near Titanvale. She was from a long line of Hunters. She called herself a Valkyrie. She explained to Alaric that the Valkyrie are female warriors that are pledged to fight for the king as Hunters. Her family could trace its lineage back to the one of the first Hunters. Most Hunters were from that same family line.

Nathaniel and Erika were from the city of Aerlonne. Aerlonne was about a 2 and a half week ride from Baerlon to the east. They sought out the Hunters after their marriage. Apparently to them, danger and adventure were perfect in a marriage. Alaric thought that he might agree with that philosophy to an extent.

Tyron was from the capital city, Ilian. He worked closely with the Hunter General Fendrick Abigor. Tyron was considered one of the few Master Hunters alive. Alaric thought it hard to believe that the limping old man was truly a master at hunting anything too dangerous.

The group settled for the night in a small grove of trees off of the road and out of sight. They sat around the fire that Tyron had lit. The night was cold, but the fire brought life into Alaric’s soaked bones. He was grateful to Lady Fate that the rain came, but he was more thankful that it finally left.

“What do Hunters hunt exactly?” Alaric asked staring at Tyron.

Tyron sat quietly for a moment before answering. “We Hunt a many great things. There are still dragons that wake and decimate cities that have forgotten their own old law, storm drakes are seen too on rare occasions leaving the mountains, and there are a many great other beasts that hunt men just as much as we hunt beast,” the white-haired man replied casually.

The thought gave Alaric a chill. He did not wholly believe that beasts existed that could decimate entire cities. He also didn’t know that dragons weren’t extinct. “When was the last dragon seen?” He then asked. He knew it had to have been many years ago.

Chas was the one that replied with his thick accent. “I watched a Dragon decimate an entire fleet of Lord Intgarsson’s finest ships. That was less than a year ago.”

Lord Intgarsson was one of the four High Lords, along with Lord Abigor. Each of the High Lords ruled over a large portion of the country. One of the four High Lords also ruled as King. The current King was King Arthfael. Each king was chosen from the three remaining High Lords by vote after the death of a King.

Alaric shuddered again. He suddenly could not believe what he had gotten himself into. His thoughts and desires for adventure put his life in real risk.

Tyron chuckled. His eyes spoke honestly though. “Do not be afraid boy. Being a Hunter is the most dangerous profession, but I’m not sure that it is for you just yet. Tomorrow we will discuss. Rest now. Chas and I will watch first. You can watch with Lilia after us.”

Alaric sat, bored, with an old tree stump at this back. He had never been on a watch before, but he understood the point. Stay awake. Stay alert. And watch for trouble. He would have little trouble doing that. His ribs were likely bruised from where Lilia had kicked him awake.

Lilia had disappeared in the woods to grab something which was fine by him. She wouldn’t explain what she had left for, but he was baffled as to what she could find out there that wasn’t close the camp. She had been gone for a few minutes at this point. Alaric almost wanted to look for her, but he knew that his duties were at the camp.

He had heard that there were rumors bandits that roamed openly outside of Baerlon, but he never thought that he would meet one, but it didn’t seem to be be the night that he met one.

Alaric was fighting drooping eyelids by the time that Lilia emerged from the woods carrying a long branch, stripped of bark and a shorter, thin branch also stripped.

She dropped the large branch at his feet. It was straight, white, and roughly carved. He could see on the thin end notches that she had carved in.

“Stand blacksmith. I’m bored, so you get to learn how to fight,” she commanded with a crooked smile. Alaric shuddered at her cruel smile. He wanted to feel something for the girl, but she was too rough with him.

Alaric nodded gravely and climbed to his feet with the makeshift practice sword in hand. He knew what was coming, and he was afraid of it.

He decided that he needed to be patient. He was sure that she was a very skilled fighter and that he could learn much from her. He knew that he was going to hurt in the morning though. Alaric decided to himself that she didn’t know how to be gentle.

Lilia slid into a defensive stance with her stick overhead. “Stand like this,” she commanded firmly.

Alaric copied her movements carefully. He felt clumsy, but Lilia was patient for what must have been the first time in her life.

After several minutes had gone by Alaric was dripping with sweat, but that wasn’t good enough for Lilia. She faced Alaric. He saw that she once again wore a smirk. She’s not going to take it easy on me, he realized as she lunged toward him.

He caught her stick with his and pushed her back. She struck his ribs faster than he could move. Alaric was blocking her waves of attacks frantically. More often than not, her stick was hitting him, but he kept trying. His body quickly began to hurt everywhere, but he refused to show it.

He would not dare to swing his club at her. He knew that he was too slow, and he would only really open himself up to more attacks.

Lilia froze without warning and put a finger over her lips to keep him from talking. He wasn’t sure that he liked when she did that. He froze. He wasn’t sure what she was hearing, but it had to be serious judging by the look of fear in her blue eyes.

After a few seconds, he stopped focusing on what trying to hear anything and stared at Lilia. She too was sweating from their practice, but it changed nothing. She was the most beautiful women that he had ever seen. She was also the most wild woman that he had ever met.

As he stared at her, the silence was broken by a soft howl. Alaric knew wolf howls. Whatever this creature was, it was not a wolf.

Lilia darted to the camp. “Come! Quick. Grab you sword!” She ordered. They had moved just far enough away to not disturb anyone while they trained. Alaric followed her closely. He obeyed her exactly. He didn’t know what the beasts were that he had heard, but Lilia seemed to think that they meant trouble.

She grabbed her sword and began shouting for everyone wake up. They all were up and armed in a matter of seconds. She shouted something about being hunted by the Urulaki. The faces of each of the Hunters were grim.

They each spread out. They peered into the darkness intently in every direction. All was silent.

Alaric stood in the middle of the group, near the fire. H thought that he could hear a noise growing slowly louder. It sounded a lot like footsteps, but it was too fast to be anything familiar.

A strange, mist began to seep from the darkness. It looked thin, but it made it impossible to see into the darkness. The mist brought with it. The smell almost made him gag. He wanted to ask about the mist, but he was afraid of tasting the mist.

Alaric began to hear growling and snarls as the mist began to suffocate him. His grip tightened on his large sword. It felt much heavier in his hands than the stick had. It was a mix of fatigue and the sheer weight of the massive greatsword. He had paid little attention to how foreign it felt in his hands when he first held it.

A flash of movement caught his eye not too far from Lilia, in the darkness. More and more figures shifted in the misty darkness. It was hard to tell how many of the creatures were out there, but Alaric thought that he had counted at least half a dozen.

Chas lept wildly into the darkness with a curved longsword. He swung wildly compared to Lilia, but one of the beasts screamed and fell dead at his feet.

As if Chas was the queue, the others in the group began diving into the darkness, swinging their weapons. They would strike and then dance back into Alaric’s view.

A swiping claw narrowly missed Alaric’s throat. He swung his sword with all of his strength toward the beast that lunged at him. He felt the sword slow as it tore through the flesh. The beast let out a shrill scream as it is died at his feet.

The sword slid out of the corpse smoothly. He knew he would get sick if he looked at the beast. Instead he stared into the darkness. Another beast leaped from the darkness toward him.

The beast moved much faster than he. It landed on top of him. He was staring down the muzzle of the largest wolf that he had ever seen. He felt claws digging into his shoulders, pushing through the skin. Warmth filled his shirt and the claws pushed deeper into his flesh. A thin trail of drool fell onto his face. The drool ran down his cheek, and his skin began to burn beneath it. The eyes of the beast were pitch black and showed no intelligence behind them.

Suddenly the beast fell limp on him. He pushed the corpse off of him. As the claws slid from his flesh, the burning skin and claw holes began to burn even hotter beyond what was tolerable. Alaric began to scream and writhe in pain on the ground. He saw Lilia’s face leaning over him, but his vision faded to darkness.

Light poured into the camp through the trees. He started to move, but a hand stopped him. “You aren’t ready to get up yet, Ric. You should keep resting,” came Lilia’s voice. “The Mist Wolf would have killed you had Nathaniel not seen it leap,” she said softly to him.

“H- h- he…..” Darkness engulfed him again.

Alaric woke once again to Lilia shaking him.

“H- how.. long have you been here?” he asked.

She smiled a tired smile. A dark bag sat under each eye. “I am the only one that really knows their way around herbs. It had to be me that stayed with you. You were in bad shape,” she replied.

“What were those things?” he croaked. He could remember vividly face of the beast that died on top of him.

“Mist Wolves by our tongue. They’re twisted beasts from the Madlands. They’ve not ever been seen outside of the Madlands as far as I know. They are cursed things that are followed by mist like you saw. Their saliva can leave burns on skin. You’re lucky, I was able to get it off before the burns became permanent. You’ll scar nicely though on your shoulders. You’re lucky that it didn’t tear deeper.”

Alaric groaned as Lilia pulled him up. A thought flashed through his mind. “What about Baerlon? Is my family ok?”

Lilia nodded slowly as if she was in thought. “Yes, blacksmith. Even in the Madlands Mist Wolves won’t bother humans unless they are sent to do so. The Wolves came for us… for you, I think,” she stopped and then stared at him intently. She continued after a few seconds,” Erika was right to have chosen you. Her Gift may have very well saved your whole village from a raid. Even skilled swordsmen are lucky to survive an encounter with them. We faced the largest group that I have ever seen. Mist Wolves rarely travel in group of more than two or three. We had more than a dozen.”

“You’re talking about wolves as if they’re men. Wolves are smart, but not enough to be ordered around and to hunt people miles from the masters, right?” Alaric asked with a frown. His whole body ached despite his lack of injuries.

Lilia’s face gave nothing. She stood and motioned for him to follow her. “Come.”

He rose slowly. The pain was at bearable now, but it still hurt. He shuddered at the thought of the pain that he suffered from the wolf.

The rest of the group was waiting outside of the tent that had been set up for him. They were gathered around a pile of corpses. The pile of dead wolves was disgusting. Organs spilled out of the pile at random spots.

The wolves were unnatural beasts. Their rear half was much like that of a black wolf, but the rest of the body was strange. The front limbs were much longer and looked nearly human except for the fur and long, black claws that extended from the fingers. The creatures had muscled shoulders and a neck much like a human’s. The eyes of the beasts were entirely human in the light with varying colors from grey to blue and brown. The eyes that were shadowed we pitch black entirely. Grey fangs that protruded from each of the oversized muzzles as well.

Alaric has never dreamed such a horrifying beast could exist, but there they lay in a pile in front of him. He felt his stomach begin to turn as he stared at the dead. The putrid scent of burning hair and flesh made him more nauseous than the sight.

He turned away before he retched. He heard Tyron chuckled. “Don’t worry, boy. Most get sick when they see death on such a great scale for the first time. ’Specially after it’s had time to rot like these. Urulaki rot faster than most. Comes with the Blight,” the old man spoke causally as if he was commenting on the weather.

Alaric peered back and met the bent, old man’s eyes. Tyron’s face was serious despite his laugh. “Do you know why these beasts hunt you?” Tyron said with a frown.

Alaric gave the Hunter a confused look. ”What do you mean, after me? I did nothing to be hunted.”

Tyron shook his head. ”I thought not. It would seem that Erika chose well. You indeed are special.”

Nathaniel piped up. “It is likely that we are still in danger. There could very well be many more creatures behind us that are sent to kill him. We need to leave as soon as he is ready.” Alaric could see that the man was growing anxious.

Each Hunter nodded in agreement and looked toward Lilia. She pursed her lips. “I think he is as ready for travel as he needs to be. It’s not like he’ll be riding a horse. The wagon is safe enough.”

With Lilia’s word, the group gathered their things and packed it into the wagon quickly. Lilia guided Alaric to the wagon while they worked. “Wait in the wagon. We’ll gather your things for you,” she said with a gentle smile.

Alaric nodded. He wasn’t waiting long. The Hunters piled in one by one and within minutes, they were off.

“Where are we going exactly?” Alaric asked as he stared at the wrinkled man sitting across from him.

Tyron gave a small smile and replied,”Well we were taking you to meet High King Arthfael of course. We need to arrive quickly too, if you are being hunted.”

Alaric realized that the whole group was staring at him. Erika’s eyes stole his attention even from Lilia’s gaze. Her eyes had changed from green to a deep purple. He thought he saw a ripple through her eyes.

“Why is everyone staring at me?” he shifted in his seat. He didn’t love the attention that they gave him.

Erika spoke softly, but she was the one that answered. “You are special Alaric Stonehammer. I know that much. I am never wrong.”

“What do you see that no one else can?” He was growing tired of the Hunters not telling him anything.

The air around Erika suddenly began to emit heat. The heat engulfed the whole wagon. She wasn’t doing anything that he could see, but he couldn’t pull his eyes away from hers.

Her voice was soft, but her words burned Alaric’s ears. “I am a priestess of the Dragon. Only we have the power to recognize the power of those chosen by the Old Gods to protect the Pact of Dragons. You will be one such or suffer the death of all that you hold dear.”

As suddenly as the strange feeling in the air came, it left. Everything was calm. All eyes were back on him.

“I guess that I have no choice then. Not if what you say is true,” he said as he searched the eyes of his new companions. Each Hunter’s face showed a mix of emotions. Pity, fear, sadness, and expectation were the most common. Alaric’s stomach was in knots and his shoulders throbbed.

“What is a Priestess of the Dragon exactly?” Alaric asked with a frown. He had never heard of such a thing despite the fact that it sounded important.

She frowned back. “Do you country folk truly know nothing about the kingdom that you live in?” Alaric could tell from her voice that she was nearly offended.

Alaric felt a wave of frustration flow over him, but he knew she spoke some truth. He rarely ever thought of his home as part of the larger kingdom. Baerlon was mostly self-governed, but the arms of the government could only reach so far with so few soldiers.

The two stared silently at each other for a few seconds, and then Erika began speaking again. Her voice was calm.

“Over a thousand years ago, this land was ruled by dragons. Man was a young and primitive. We were treated like sheep to the beasts. One day, men grouped together and killed their first dragon. Many more fell to men after that. The men and the elder dragons that led the dragon armies met together and established peace. The conditions of this peace were that men could rule themselves but the dragons would choose the rulers of men. The first of the Priests and Priestesses of the Dragon were blessed by the dragons to recognize those that would shape the fate of mankind. Usually we see those chosen to be nobility.”

Alaric stared at Erika silently for several minutes before responding. His wrap his mind around what she was saying. He knew most of some history but magical Dragon Priestesses and Priests seemed ridiculous. Could she really claim to know him just from a look or know some part of his destiny?

He decided that he should at least humor Erika despite his doubts.

“What do you see then?” Alaric said softly.

“A bumbling idiot that knows nothing of respect!” Lilia spat with a wicked grin.

Erika shook her head and smiled. “It isn’t that simple. Only time and the correct decisions can reveal the truth. For now though, you must come to the capital with us. There your fate will begin to be determined.”

Alaric sighed loudly. He too tired to care what the others thought. Nothing was ever simple with the Hunters. “How much farther then?”

Erika shrugged. “It depends on how long you make it take, my Lord.”

Alaric smiled back. He hated how being called a Lord felt. He hoped that it was something that he would never get used to. “Doesn’t that make you all my subjects?”

Tyron cut in sharply,” No boy. A Hunter serves the crown, not the Lords and Ladies. You are neither a noble yet, nor are you a king. We are to protect you until you reach our destination, but you are no leader of ours.”

An uncomfortable silence fell on the group for after that. Alaric took time in the silence to sit and let his mind wander. It was hard to see himself as anything special. He was after all just a young blacksmith.