Drip-Fed – Hoarding 13 – Chimera and Cat Covert Tactics (Patreon)

Heavy beats carried Apexus through the night. Darkness so far from all proper civilization was near complete, the cover of canopies camouflaging carefully laid campfires from all but the highest of angles. Even in this land of dragons, humanoids were not generally adept at hiding from airborne observers. Largely, because it was futile to even try. Anything short of going underground did not provide enough cover to reliably hide from those monsters.

Apexus spotted the encampment he had visited several days earlier. This time, he landed directly in the middle of the clearing they used as the centre of their gathering.

The force of the chimera’s landing rustled nearby bushes and disturbed several of the deer that were combing the ground for nuts and other treats. Immediately, they went into retreat, while the two guards posted grabbed their spears out of sheer habit. Apexus straightened up and folded his wings. The spears lowered much slower. Even without his verdant feathers spread, the slime stood one and a half heads over the taller of the two guards and considerably wider as well.

Apexus fixed the band that kept his black hair confined and waited. He was not here to hunt them, so it was proper to give them the time to get used to his presence. Even though they knew he was coming back and had waited, as per their end of the agreement, the tribe of, primarily, humans eyed him with suspicion.

The spears were slightly raised again, when Apexus extended a hand towards one of the deer. He did it naturally, without any awkwardness that people unfamiliar with handling animals often had. Nowadays more than ever, Apexus understood his naturalistic side and how to express it. Most things about himself, he understood better than ever before.

What weirded out the bandits, animals found innately trustworthy. The deer walked closer and sniffed his hand. His body language had facilitated trust and his smell did the rest. The pheromone ducts had evolved considerably from their ant origin and there were many different applications, beyond just smelling good or emphasizing lustful mood, that Apexus tapped into here and there.

The deer took kindly to the humanoid chimera scratching its head. Like the others of its kind around, they were used to humanoids. The tribe Apexus stood in the centre of was distributed throughout the trees. Their camps stood among a large herd of deer. Each of these fawns was large enough to reach his shoulders with their raised heads and had nimble bodies. The males, fewer in number than the females, had large antlers and were notably bulkier.

These people migrated with and directed the herd. They picked out the optimal grazing spots and protected the deer from predators and the elements. In return, the tribe slaughtered members of the herd for food and leather. They did so with care, typically taking out the older members or males that were either particularly aggressive or utterly useless. It was an ultimately symbiotic relationship.

Many of the tents that Apexus had seen when he was last present had already been removed. Of the roughly hundred people he had found initially, watching over a herd of five hundred, less than a tenth remained.

“If you are looking for Baraba, we sent her ahead,” one of the guards finally spoke up.

“Wise,” Apexus answered. The leader of the tribe, an elderly woman, would have had trouble moving with the haste required next. “It is moving along as discussed. The marauders are resting a few hours from here. They are unskilled hunters. I will delay them until after the morning hours.”

The two guards nodded, as did a few of the crowd that had since gathered around. They had a tightrope to run. If they ran too early, it would appear exceedingly staged. Too late, however, and they would be caught by the unsavoury elements Apexus brought with him.

Under normal circumstances, no one would have agreed to this plan. It was a hallmark of pests like Kaladar, tyrants of wide reach, that they were toppled by a coalition that only existed due to them. The risk that all of this was just a ploy to steal some of their cattle was pronounced in the minds of the tribesmen. It was one they were willing to take, if that prevented the red dragon from terrorizing these lands ever again.

“Keep your word,” one of the guards growled warningly, his spear pointed at the slime.

“I will,” Apexus promised, demonstrably averting his gaze from the weapon. Instead, he looked into the eyes of the fawn still nuzzling his palm. Its eyes were clear and innocent in a way only that of animals could be. “I only kill to eat.”

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“FUCKERS!” Trellok shouted, as his axe cleaved into the neck of the deer.

Apexus did not look away, when the hit ended the life of the animal with a swiftness he was grateful for. The two other bandits that had held it let go. The corpse slouched to the floor. The spinal cord had been severed clean, what little twitches there were at the end were nothing but some random nerves firing one last time.

Raising his foot, the half-dwarf was about to vent his frustration further. A large hand on his shoulder pulled the bandit back. Growling, he raised his bloodied axe at Apexus.

The death of the deer was inevitable. One way or another, they would end as food, be it for Kaladar, the bandits, or Apexus himself. An axe to the neck was a swift death, compared to what else nature had to offer. The desecration afterwards, that was a spiritual malaise only sapient beings were capable of. In time’s past and lesser empathy, he could have let it go. With where he had come, he felt it would have malnourished part of his soul, were he to witness it unobstructed.

Staring down at Trellok, Apexus waited for the marauder to make a first move. There was less than two metres between them, enough that the bandit leader could have swung his two-sided axe at him. The entire raiding party was tense. The half-dwarf panted heavily. He had been spoiling for a fight all morning and he had found nothing here.

Tunnel visioned on Apexus, the half-dwarf looked for any move on the monk’s part that would have started the combat. There wasn’t even a battle stance. Time passed, breaths calmed, and eventually Trellok’s eye dashed off to the side. He stared at one of the other deer. They had been left with eight others, most of them well-fed and healthy. There were also two tents that were partly dismantled and had then been left. A couple of belongings were strewn about, as if they had fallen out of hastily assembled backpacks. The tribesmen had put together a convincing picture of a hurried evacuation.

The display reminded Trellok that, despite the lack of violence, there was no lack of loot. He glanced back to Apexus. With the rage diminishing, he remembered what this man had done to others. “Prepare this thing!” Trellok barked at one of the bandits. “Might as well enjoy a second breakfast.”

With that, the half-dwarf stomped off, to take his share of the loot. The quartet relocated to a different part of the torn down camp to sift through what had been left behind themselves. They partly did it to keep up appearances and partly because there could have been something actually useful in there. Either this went to the bandits or to them. To return it to the tribe would be practically impossible.

Eventually, Trellok had calmed down enough to organize the distribution properly. Everything they found that looked even remotely useful or interesting was thrown into a large pile. He and the leaders then picked out what they wanted the most. Afterwards, the rest of the raiding party took turns grabbing something out of the pile. The order was mostly based on Trellok’s whims. A contributing factor was if someone was willing to break a nose over a particular item.

Unsurprisingly, the quartet was dead last in the order. They still made out with a few interesting trinkets. Skewers of hard wood, a carefully crafted necklace made from leather strips and pieces of antler, a few new hairbands for Apexus, and a wooden bucket.

After the loot was distributed, everyone’s mood was considerably higher. Minds parted on whether the lack of a fight was a good or a bad thing, but after the one slaughtered deer had been devoured, no one felt like giving chase to the tribe. The accepted story was that they had been spotted by a scout and that the hours they were ahead would make it difficult to catch up. Besides, they had gotten several deer and two whole new tents that were decisively larger and less leaky than what they had back home.

They assumed they could always raid this area again.

The extra luggage, as well as the deer, slowed the party on their way back. Although the fawn were used to human contact, the bandits had made the mistake of slaughtering one of their kin right in front of them. That, combined with their unfamiliar smell and loud demeanour, did not make for cooperative animals.

They slaughtered one more on the way back, leaving them with a total of seven. Although there were numerous attempts to escape by the animals, they were ultimately dragged, shoved, and guided over the mountain range. After five days of travel, they were back at the treeless, craggy slopes.

Reysha laughed at a terrible joke one of the bandits had made. Every single one of the chuckles was earnest, but only because she imagined slipping her dagger between his vocal cords at the same time. For the entirety of the trip back, she had been socializing with the bandits. Of the quartet, she was the best equipped for this and it was paramount to the final step of their plan that she was in the know.

“What’re you going to do with these anyway?” Reysha asked, pointing at the deer. By now, they were compliant, if only because exhaustion made them unwilling to attempt another escape. “Eat them, obviously, farming is for losers, but how?”

“Prolly gonna smoke them,” the bandit responded, openly leering at her cleavage as he did. This time around, the display of sexiness was not intended whatsoever. Reysha just looked that good in casual clothes. “Trellok wants to give the biggest one to Kaladar though.”

The biggest one was the sole male of the herd they had been left with. He was a prime, healthy example of a deer. Had been, at least, until the marauders had separated his antlers following a particularly rebellious charge. Reysha felt least bad of the quartet for what these animals were going through during their final days and even she would have started a fight over this had they not bigger animals to slay.

‘So that’s my target,’ she thought and asked. “So ya going to slaughter it or does Kaladar prefer his prey alive?”

“Trellok wants to kill it tonight. Keep it fresh without having to drag it in front of the fuck-off dragon, you know?”

“That makes sense, yep-yep,” Reysha nodded enthusiastically and then swiftly made an excuse to step away. She had gotten what she needed and now she just had to wait for an opportunity to arise.

It would take until the night to arise. Trellok had made the decision to sleep one last time outside the camp, so that his entire clique would be ready to fend off whoever would try to ‘tax’ some of their spoils.

“I’ll be back in a bit,” Reysha whispered to the rest of her party, then Sneaked out. The magic, distributed all over joints, masked her presence. The brightness of her red hair, the only part of her that did not harmonize with the darkness of the night, blurred with her brown skin and dark grey armour. The black of her eyes shifted around, as she arched around the outskirts of the camp.

There was some activity still. The leisurely pace of the trip back had left most of the bandits with energy to spare. They devoured what was still left of the two deer they had slaughtered so far, which was little more than half dried chunks they could chew on while talking.

Reysha paid them little mind. Moving between the many covers of the craggy slope, she made her way to the natural stone formation the fawn had been shepherded into. Although they had laid down, they were clearly stressed. Sometimes, one of them got up and tried to scale the rock. The only other way went right through two guards.

Reysha perched herself on the upper rim of the confinement and waited. Inevitably, Trellok himself went out there. He joked for a little bit with the guards, before stepping into the herd. For ten minutes, the half dwarf amused himself by chasing the male buck around the area. When he had cornered and utterly exhausted it, he finally gave it the death blow.

‘Man, I just really want to stab that guy,’ Reysha thought, playing with the handle of one of the throwing knives on her belt. Dwarves had thick bones, so taking him out with one of these would be near impossible. She still considered it though. Only when he left, was she certain that she wouldn’t do it.

The dead fawn was left in the grass, among the six that remained. Another display of exceedingly poor taste on every level, yet one that was to the advantage of Reysha. She waited until the guards were distracted. Carefully, she scaled down the two metres of natural rock and snuck over to the corpse. She pulled the vial of poison out of her adventurer’s bag and then pushed the still sealed container into the axe wound. Her hand and part of  her arm were bloodied by the process. She shoved it deep into the gaping wound of the animal, ensuring that it wouldn’t be found.

A dragon’s stomach acid could take care of a lot of things. Glass was too much even for it, but the cork sealing the vial could be easily managed. ‘Just need to hope he takes it now,’ she thought and started her way back. She only took a detour to wash her arm off by the ocean.

Within a few hours, the next day, they returned to the main camp. Everything was as they had left it, filthy and violent. While Trellok’s new tent was erected, the half-dwarf slung the offering over his shoulder and, alone, entered Kaladar’s lair. He came back out without a deer and a content expression.

That was as good a confirmation as the quartet would get.