A Hunter's Quarry

A Hunter's Quarry

One woodsman bent close to the ground, examining faint prints in the earth, while the other stood guard, bow raised, watching right and left. Unusual early light made its way into the otherwise dark forest, peeking through the trees.

Just beyond their position, a line of trees formed an impenetrable wall of green and dark gray. The kneeling man signaled that their quarry was ahead in the brush, but the other ignored him; already taking aim.

In an instant, the thicket shuttered, and his arrow was quickly loosed. A metallic clang resounded as it was deflected away from its target. Then a great centaur emerged from the trees, a look of stern disappointment etched across his features.

The great half-man’s horse body was huge, looking stronger than a destrier. He raised his bow—itself as tall as a man—with two menacing arrows nocked. He crossed the distance between them in precise movements, leaving the ground mostly undisturbed by his passage. “You think yourselves hunters, but you are not. You fools! You are close to Klik’s domain. Do you know what that means? The goblins are on the move. They’re setting fires. Do you see that glow? It’s not the rising sun. They are lighting up bushes, trees, behind you. You will soon have only burning ground to read, and your escape will be cut off. They will be here soon. Go.”

He paused shortly, carefully measuring his tone, controlling his frustration: “And next time woodsman: you ought to know your quarry before you take shot. Know your target first. Then and only then will it not escape.”

An Oracle's Reading
The Halfling's Warning
The King's Lieutenants
The Living Storm
The Megapede
The Siren's Call
Mountain Top