Ymiden 17th, Early Morning
Jonathan needed to hit practicing. Again and again until he got it right. Hob seemed to be settling into their arrangement quite nicely. If he acted the part of whatever Jonathan needed to whip, he was rewarded with Jonathan's rest time. No matter how exhausted Jonathan was he enjoyed slipping into sleep and finding the Harvester on the other side. Hungry and wanting. Today he wanted to indulge the Harvester a little more. He took his whip, settled into his boots, and took off into the Willow Woods. This time, deep. Past where he had found and destroyed the hunter and his daughter. As they headed along the dirt road and passed the blackened spot where both had met their end, he paused. Looked at it. Was her little crossbow still there, flung into the woods somewhere? Rotting while termites and the rain assaulted it?
'I find it best to tell my mages not think about such things.'Hob told him gently. Jon nodded to himself and kept moving. That had been the past. When the addiction of his second discipline overtook him anything was possible. He loved cruelty with Aberration in his head. He changed...he was far from the gentle scholar he showed most people. He was sadistic, drunk with power. As much as he hated to admit it sometimes he mulled over the look the little girl had given him seconds before he'd forced her to shoot her own father. Full of confusion, that childlike sense of innocence he'd destroyed with one click of a tiny, ill-made crossbow. Yet...he'd enjoyed it. He'd flung himself in bed and into the arms of his ravenous Harvester with no sense of guilt. In fact, that night had been one of their better dreams together, and he'd woken up aching in satisfaction. Violence and sex were becoming slowly entangled in his head.
As usual, Hob had to do little but urge him to move on. He did so, shouldering the small pack he'd brought and continuing to walk. The walking was strengthening his legs. He had to go further and further every time to hide his transgressions from Alistair. The hiking was starting to do his body good. Mile after mile the aches in his legs took longer to manifest. The burning stitches in his sides he'd learned to manage. He'd even started to enjoy them a little bit. It meant he was getting stronger not just in magic, but physically. His endurance was increasing and he could go farther. If he could go farther, that meant he had a smaller risk of getting caught. Getting caught by Alistair wasn't in the plan at all. All aspects of Aberration had to be hidden from his instructor. Hob had wisely refused to manifest in Kaelserad for a little while. Humans tended to be out of sight, out of mind, and it was both Jon and Hob's hope that without the visual affects of Aberration becoming obvious...Alistair would begin to forget.
Or at least, destroying Hob wouldn't be at the forefront of his mind anymore.
Jon shook the idea and picked up his pace. He began to jog, his arms and legs pumping. Feeling the road underneath him and the exhaustion in his legs. He would tame that exhaustion. He would crush it under his heel like he had the souls of so many transients on this road. This time there would be no deception. No games to play. He was the horror of this forest. He was a hunter and the men who dared to tread here were his prey. The idea of it was exhilarating. He barely even noticed the small group of men on either side of the road until an arrow whizzed in front of him. It had been well shot, timed just right to flick right in front of his eyes and bury itself into a tree on the other side of the road.
Jon slowed himself to a stop, panting. He froze, eyeing the three men who came out of the bushes to his left. Highwaymen, probably from Ironridge. They weren't uncommon this far from Ne'Haer and this deep into the Willow Woods. He eyed a familiar insignia on their armor. Ironridge. Just like the men who had attempted to rob the boat on his way to Yurrova. He straightened up, catching his breath, and looked at them. Three men in their mid twenties. Perhaps a little younger as hardship tended to age men like this prematurely. They were wearing various patched pieces of iron and leather armor. Repaired over and over again until the original leather looked more like a five year old's first attempt at a quilt than armor. It probably still served to protect, but far less than a quality piece would. Jonathan eyed them. A redhead, missing most of his teeth and looking far too pleased with himself looked to be the ringleader.
Maybe a little game. He wanted to wipe the smirk off of that man's face.
"Where are you going in such a hurry?" the redhead asked, settling a crossbow onto his shoulder. Ah, that explained the arrow. It was a clever trick to get his attention, and the man probably had enough skill with it to be confident of whatever poor traveler they assaulted. Jonathan was recovered now, his breathing slowing and his eyes studying the men in front of him.
"Just a little run." Jon said carefully.
"Let's hope you took your purse with you."
Jon cocked his head. "I don't think I'm going to be giving you anything." his voice was a little more serious now. The highwaymen bristled. The redhead handed off his crossbow to be loaded by the second member of the group while a third brandished a knife. Jon stepped back slightly, and let the whip uncoil on the ground.
"The hell's that thing? Your mom's tail?" the redhead mocked with a nasty grin. Since he'd done himself the inconvenience of disarming himself, Jon decided to teach him exactly how nasty that tail could be. He brought his arm up quickly, twirling the whip around his head and snapping it forward toward the thug struggling to reload the crossbow. The whip's knot struck the man across the knuckles and he dropped the crossbow with a loud yelp. Jon withdrew the whip and the redhead snarled at him.
"Pick that fucking thing up!" he snapped at the man nursing his bleeding knuckles. "Listen you. You have exactly five seconds to give us your coin before I shove that snake down your throat." He eyed the man with the knife. Jon stepped back a little further and built momentum again. When the bandit stepped forward to engage him with the knife, Jonathan snapped the whip toward the man's face. The strike wasn't deadly, not with his skill level, but the loud crack across the man's cheeks was enough to make him stumble back and sit down. Hard. The knife-wielder howled in agony and rubbed the burning welt raising on his skin. That was terrifyingly close to his eyes, and if Jon had been any better at it he might have been blinded. Jon decided to ferret away that little piece of information. If he could slice a whip across a man's eyes he could disarm any opponent. A man's chief use in weaponry was his eyes.
"Alright enough fucking play." the redhead seized his crossbow and made to load it.
Jon's whip snapped across his fingers. The redhead wasn't about to be deterred. He drew back for only a second and with a loud curse, but moved and seized his weapon. "You fucking shit!" The bandit roared at him. The man who had first attempted to reload the weapon looked hesitant to charge Jon. Jon chuckled coldly.
"I'll let you go, if you give me your coin." Jon proposed with a grin spreading across his face. His lips spread wide, and the split in his face opened like a strange chasm.
"What in the-" the knife-wielder scrambled up and away from him, but Jon wasn't about to allow that either. He lifted up a hand and an orb spread wide, the size of the knifeman's head. The orb trailed to the ground, gently like a bubble, and grazed the man's foot. Hob took the opportunity to be a little artistic. The Harvester lunged out of the small portal and tore the man in half. Neatly, like someone breaking a cracker to start a meal. The bandit had a few seconds to scream, staring as the bottom half of his body separated at the hips and the shining ropes of his intestines spilled out onto the road. Then he died, flopping onto the ground. The bubble vanished, and the bandit's soul with it. Hob tore it apart easily, shredding the man's demise. Any judgement that knifeman had waiting for him at the hands of Immortals disappeared into the horror of Hob's throat.
This was the first time the redhead looked utterly and completely rattled. The second man tried to run. Hob liked to chase. Jonathan opened a conjunction for him. It was coming easier and easier each time, and he kept the portal open long enough for Hob to tackle the man to the ground and flay him. He crushed the bandit's head like a rotten melon. It made a sickening wet crack that paled the skin of the now one-man ringleader. The dying bandit's body curled up, paper in a flame, as Hob consumed his soul and shared the meal with Jonathan. The conjunction closed, and Hob vanished. Satisfied, happy, and looking forward to the last man.
"Now..." Jon flicked the whip. "...what did you say about my weapon? Something about my mother's tail?"
The redhead's throat worked. He stared, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. Jon waited, patiently, while the blood from the knifeman seeped into his boots and wetted the soil. He stared, frozen, the whip flicking occasionally with little movements of his wrist.
"P-please...I didn't know..." the redhead finally choked out.
"Listen. I'm going to give you one little chance." Jon rolled his shoulder, and Hob stepped out from behind him. The redhead looked like he was about to pass out at the sight of the creature. His eyes fixed on Hob and stayed there. Horrified.
"If you agree to spread the word that this is my forest. Mine. Then I'll let you live." Jon said coldly. "I want the highwaymen of this forest to leave me nel. Not a lot. Just enough to pay for your sins. Leave it along the river where plants turn into stone. You'll find the place easily enough. Break my sculptures, or leave nothing, and I will hunt you down. This...is Hob. Hob doesn't like bandits. Hob likes little redheaded shits who listen. Step foot in Ne'haer ever again...and I will take off your limbs one by one. Do you hear me?"
An acrid odor rose in the air, along with the sound of water. Jon pursed his lips and looked at the large wettening spot spreading in the redhead's trousers. "Well you're certainly making yourself less appetizing." Jon joked. Hob laughed, that choking horrible sound that would burrow deep into the highwayman's nightmares.
"Go. Tell them. If I don't get my tithes on the fifth of each season, I will hunt you down. I might not kill all of you. I might just hollow out your heads and turn you into stumbling horrors. If you ever go into a city again I will raze this entire forest to the ground and use you as tinder." Jon growled. "Shoo."
The redhead was frozen. He shook and trembled. Jon sighed and raised the whip, building momentum and bringing it down with a large, loud crack. That seemed to break it. The redhead fell over like Jon had punched him, and scrambled back into the woods. Jon could hear him crashing through the underbrush, and little cries that probably meant his new crony had hurt himself on something. He didn't care about the nel. He drank in the new fear and power like a drug. He stepped over the body of the man who had been torn in half.
"What a mess." he chuckled.
'Mm. Next time you should enforce it. Make him suck your cock, or cut off a finger.'Hob laughed.
"You think I want those rotten teeth anywhere near sensitive bits of my anatomy?" Jon joined him, mixing the relative normality of his own laugh with the hacking wheeze of Hob's. "No, they won't listen to him. Maybe when he brings them here to show them. Or maybe he'll run. Far away from here. Either way...I'll see him again near Ne'Haer and I'll kill him if he runs."
'I think you're going to fit this lord of the woods thing very well.'
Jonathan needed to hit practicing. Again and again until he got it right. Hob seemed to be settling into their arrangement quite nicely. If he acted the part of whatever Jonathan needed to whip, he was rewarded with Jonathan's rest time. No matter how exhausted Jonathan was he enjoyed slipping into sleep and finding the Harvester on the other side. Hungry and wanting. Today he wanted to indulge the Harvester a little more. He took his whip, settled into his boots, and took off into the Willow Woods. This time, deep. Past where he had found and destroyed the hunter and his daughter. As they headed along the dirt road and passed the blackened spot where both had met their end, he paused. Looked at it. Was her little crossbow still there, flung into the woods somewhere? Rotting while termites and the rain assaulted it?
'I find it best to tell my mages not think about such things.'Hob told him gently. Jon nodded to himself and kept moving. That had been the past. When the addiction of his second discipline overtook him anything was possible. He loved cruelty with Aberration in his head. He changed...he was far from the gentle scholar he showed most people. He was sadistic, drunk with power. As much as he hated to admit it sometimes he mulled over the look the little girl had given him seconds before he'd forced her to shoot her own father. Full of confusion, that childlike sense of innocence he'd destroyed with one click of a tiny, ill-made crossbow. Yet...he'd enjoyed it. He'd flung himself in bed and into the arms of his ravenous Harvester with no sense of guilt. In fact, that night had been one of their better dreams together, and he'd woken up aching in satisfaction. Violence and sex were becoming slowly entangled in his head.
As usual, Hob had to do little but urge him to move on. He did so, shouldering the small pack he'd brought and continuing to walk. The walking was strengthening his legs. He had to go further and further every time to hide his transgressions from Alistair. The hiking was starting to do his body good. Mile after mile the aches in his legs took longer to manifest. The burning stitches in his sides he'd learned to manage. He'd even started to enjoy them a little bit. It meant he was getting stronger not just in magic, but physically. His endurance was increasing and he could go farther. If he could go farther, that meant he had a smaller risk of getting caught. Getting caught by Alistair wasn't in the plan at all. All aspects of Aberration had to be hidden from his instructor. Hob had wisely refused to manifest in Kaelserad for a little while. Humans tended to be out of sight, out of mind, and it was both Jon and Hob's hope that without the visual affects of Aberration becoming obvious...Alistair would begin to forget.
Or at least, destroying Hob wouldn't be at the forefront of his mind anymore.
Jon shook the idea and picked up his pace. He began to jog, his arms and legs pumping. Feeling the road underneath him and the exhaustion in his legs. He would tame that exhaustion. He would crush it under his heel like he had the souls of so many transients on this road. This time there would be no deception. No games to play. He was the horror of this forest. He was a hunter and the men who dared to tread here were his prey. The idea of it was exhilarating. He barely even noticed the small group of men on either side of the road until an arrow whizzed in front of him. It had been well shot, timed just right to flick right in front of his eyes and bury itself into a tree on the other side of the road.
Jon slowed himself to a stop, panting. He froze, eyeing the three men who came out of the bushes to his left. Highwaymen, probably from Ironridge. They weren't uncommon this far from Ne'Haer and this deep into the Willow Woods. He eyed a familiar insignia on their armor. Ironridge. Just like the men who had attempted to rob the boat on his way to Yurrova. He straightened up, catching his breath, and looked at them. Three men in their mid twenties. Perhaps a little younger as hardship tended to age men like this prematurely. They were wearing various patched pieces of iron and leather armor. Repaired over and over again until the original leather looked more like a five year old's first attempt at a quilt than armor. It probably still served to protect, but far less than a quality piece would. Jonathan eyed them. A redhead, missing most of his teeth and looking far too pleased with himself looked to be the ringleader.
Maybe a little game. He wanted to wipe the smirk off of that man's face.
"Where are you going in such a hurry?" the redhead asked, settling a crossbow onto his shoulder. Ah, that explained the arrow. It was a clever trick to get his attention, and the man probably had enough skill with it to be confident of whatever poor traveler they assaulted. Jonathan was recovered now, his breathing slowing and his eyes studying the men in front of him.
"Just a little run." Jon said carefully.
"Let's hope you took your purse with you."
Jon cocked his head. "I don't think I'm going to be giving you anything." his voice was a little more serious now. The highwaymen bristled. The redhead handed off his crossbow to be loaded by the second member of the group while a third brandished a knife. Jon stepped back slightly, and let the whip uncoil on the ground.
"The hell's that thing? Your mom's tail?" the redhead mocked with a nasty grin. Since he'd done himself the inconvenience of disarming himself, Jon decided to teach him exactly how nasty that tail could be. He brought his arm up quickly, twirling the whip around his head and snapping it forward toward the thug struggling to reload the crossbow. The whip's knot struck the man across the knuckles and he dropped the crossbow with a loud yelp. Jon withdrew the whip and the redhead snarled at him.
"Pick that fucking thing up!" he snapped at the man nursing his bleeding knuckles. "Listen you. You have exactly five seconds to give us your coin before I shove that snake down your throat." He eyed the man with the knife. Jon stepped back a little further and built momentum again. When the bandit stepped forward to engage him with the knife, Jonathan snapped the whip toward the man's face. The strike wasn't deadly, not with his skill level, but the loud crack across the man's cheeks was enough to make him stumble back and sit down. Hard. The knife-wielder howled in agony and rubbed the burning welt raising on his skin. That was terrifyingly close to his eyes, and if Jon had been any better at it he might have been blinded. Jon decided to ferret away that little piece of information. If he could slice a whip across a man's eyes he could disarm any opponent. A man's chief use in weaponry was his eyes.
"Alright enough fucking play." the redhead seized his crossbow and made to load it.
Jon's whip snapped across his fingers. The redhead wasn't about to be deterred. He drew back for only a second and with a loud curse, but moved and seized his weapon. "You fucking shit!" The bandit roared at him. The man who had first attempted to reload the weapon looked hesitant to charge Jon. Jon chuckled coldly.
"I'll let you go, if you give me your coin." Jon proposed with a grin spreading across his face. His lips spread wide, and the split in his face opened like a strange chasm.
"What in the-" the knife-wielder scrambled up and away from him, but Jon wasn't about to allow that either. He lifted up a hand and an orb spread wide, the size of the knifeman's head. The orb trailed to the ground, gently like a bubble, and grazed the man's foot. Hob took the opportunity to be a little artistic. The Harvester lunged out of the small portal and tore the man in half. Neatly, like someone breaking a cracker to start a meal. The bandit had a few seconds to scream, staring as the bottom half of his body separated at the hips and the shining ropes of his intestines spilled out onto the road. Then he died, flopping onto the ground. The bubble vanished, and the bandit's soul with it. Hob tore it apart easily, shredding the man's demise. Any judgement that knifeman had waiting for him at the hands of Immortals disappeared into the horror of Hob's throat.
This was the first time the redhead looked utterly and completely rattled. The second man tried to run. Hob liked to chase. Jonathan opened a conjunction for him. It was coming easier and easier each time, and he kept the portal open long enough for Hob to tackle the man to the ground and flay him. He crushed the bandit's head like a rotten melon. It made a sickening wet crack that paled the skin of the now one-man ringleader. The dying bandit's body curled up, paper in a flame, as Hob consumed his soul and shared the meal with Jonathan. The conjunction closed, and Hob vanished. Satisfied, happy, and looking forward to the last man.
"Now..." Jon flicked the whip. "...what did you say about my weapon? Something about my mother's tail?"
The redhead's throat worked. He stared, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. Jon waited, patiently, while the blood from the knifeman seeped into his boots and wetted the soil. He stared, frozen, the whip flicking occasionally with little movements of his wrist.
"P-please...I didn't know..." the redhead finally choked out.
"Listen. I'm going to give you one little chance." Jon rolled his shoulder, and Hob stepped out from behind him. The redhead looked like he was about to pass out at the sight of the creature. His eyes fixed on Hob and stayed there. Horrified.
"If you agree to spread the word that this is my forest. Mine. Then I'll let you live." Jon said coldly. "I want the highwaymen of this forest to leave me nel. Not a lot. Just enough to pay for your sins. Leave it along the river where plants turn into stone. You'll find the place easily enough. Break my sculptures, or leave nothing, and I will hunt you down. This...is Hob. Hob doesn't like bandits. Hob likes little redheaded shits who listen. Step foot in Ne'haer ever again...and I will take off your limbs one by one. Do you hear me?"
An acrid odor rose in the air, along with the sound of water. Jon pursed his lips and looked at the large wettening spot spreading in the redhead's trousers. "Well you're certainly making yourself less appetizing." Jon joked. Hob laughed, that choking horrible sound that would burrow deep into the highwayman's nightmares.
"Go. Tell them. If I don't get my tithes on the fifth of each season, I will hunt you down. I might not kill all of you. I might just hollow out your heads and turn you into stumbling horrors. If you ever go into a city again I will raze this entire forest to the ground and use you as tinder." Jon growled. "Shoo."
The redhead was frozen. He shook and trembled. Jon sighed and raised the whip, building momentum and bringing it down with a large, loud crack. That seemed to break it. The redhead fell over like Jon had punched him, and scrambled back into the woods. Jon could hear him crashing through the underbrush, and little cries that probably meant his new crony had hurt himself on something. He didn't care about the nel. He drank in the new fear and power like a drug. He stepped over the body of the man who had been torn in half.
"What a mess." he chuckled.
'Mm. Next time you should enforce it. Make him suck your cock, or cut off a finger.'Hob laughed.
"You think I want those rotten teeth anywhere near sensitive bits of my anatomy?" Jon joined him, mixing the relative normality of his own laugh with the hacking wheeze of Hob's. "No, they won't listen to him. Maybe when he brings them here to show them. Or maybe he'll run. Far away from here. Either way...I'll see him again near Ne'Haer and I'll kill him if he runs."
'I think you're going to fit this lord of the woods thing very well.'
