S
Strangebuddy
Guest
The baron pulled his gloves on and then straightened his mighty helm as he walked over to his night-black steed. The horse tried not to look at its master but failed, releasing a whinnie as it saw the large horned antlers and eyeless sockets that stared back at it.
The baron chuckled and then looked down at his clothes. Tonight was special so he had worn fitting garb. his shirt and pants were made of forest green cloth, the same shade as the lush vegetation which surrounded his lands and would be the site of tonight's hunt. His gloves were made of bear skin and ended in small claws while his long cape was made of the finest wolf-pelts. His masterpiece, of course, was his helmet, which bore the antlers and skull of a great stag. His face was hidden behind carefully woven cloth. which did not impair his vision but made it appear as though he was an upright stag.
He went to the stable door and flung it open into the night air. The stallion stood rigid as its master returned and then swung himself onto the steed with ease, despite the cumbersome gear he wore. There was only a small saddle on the horse, though it seemed more for the odd items that adorned it rather than the menacing rider. Around the saddle's horn were a number of small ropes that had rounded balls on them. A foreign king had once given them to him as a gift.
"My lord Titus," he had spoken in a thick, pleasant accent, "These are bolas. They are used to captured the giant birds and animals of my lands...although," he said with a lingering hunger, "they do have tastier prey that I've heard you have an interest in."
How right the king had been. His hunts had become far more interesting. The coup would be delivered by him with his own body but the bolas allowed him to leave his prey struggling.
The second item was a large ram's horn. While Titus would have preferred a trumpet, such a thing was far too unwieldly for the hunt. The baron rode out of the stable and pulled his cloth mask up, placing the horn to his lips and blowing out a warbling note that squirmed into the ears and brain of every animal and man that was in ear shot. Even as Titus finished the piercing note, he saw a distant doe bolt into the forest and several servants run to their hovels.
"Foolish ones, you are not my prey tonight."
Titus kicked the heels of his naked feet into the stallion's sides and the horse bolted off towards his serf's fields. Titus's serfs were healthy and strong. though the fertile dirt made anything grow with ease. The baron took care of his serfs. He protected them from attack and made sure they shared in the glory of his conquests. However, it came at a cost.
Titus blew the horn again, signalling that the hunt would now begin. The rules of his hunt were simple:
1. after the second horn blast, the hunt would begin.
2. Anyone who gave the prey asylum during the hunt would be flogged.
3. However, anyone who helped capture the prey or hindered it would be flogged and then dragged back to the baron's castle as a trophy.
Of couse, the prey was nothing so simple. She would be a young serf, healthy and fleet of foot.who was given free reign to use the fields, forest or lake while he pursued her. If she kept away for the entire night, she would be freed...but no one had beaten the hunt. 7 years the hunt had occured and ten years all that was left of the women were torn clothes, hoofprints, and the signs of a struggle.
Titus grabbed a pouch from the saddle and loosened the chord which bound it. He breathed deep from the aroma which spilled forth from the pouch and smiled in ecstasy as the feeling of rushing blood overtook his body. His eyesight and other senses seemed sharpened as he tightened his grip on the reigns. He could feel his inner beast come to the surface.
Titus charged into town, looking for the sign of his prey.
The baron chuckled and then looked down at his clothes. Tonight was special so he had worn fitting garb. his shirt and pants were made of forest green cloth, the same shade as the lush vegetation which surrounded his lands and would be the site of tonight's hunt. His gloves were made of bear skin and ended in small claws while his long cape was made of the finest wolf-pelts. His masterpiece, of course, was his helmet, which bore the antlers and skull of a great stag. His face was hidden behind carefully woven cloth. which did not impair his vision but made it appear as though he was an upright stag.
He went to the stable door and flung it open into the night air. The stallion stood rigid as its master returned and then swung himself onto the steed with ease, despite the cumbersome gear he wore. There was only a small saddle on the horse, though it seemed more for the odd items that adorned it rather than the menacing rider. Around the saddle's horn were a number of small ropes that had rounded balls on them. A foreign king had once given them to him as a gift.
"My lord Titus," he had spoken in a thick, pleasant accent, "These are bolas. They are used to captured the giant birds and animals of my lands...although," he said with a lingering hunger, "they do have tastier prey that I've heard you have an interest in."
How right the king had been. His hunts had become far more interesting. The coup would be delivered by him with his own body but the bolas allowed him to leave his prey struggling.
The second item was a large ram's horn. While Titus would have preferred a trumpet, such a thing was far too unwieldly for the hunt. The baron rode out of the stable and pulled his cloth mask up, placing the horn to his lips and blowing out a warbling note that squirmed into the ears and brain of every animal and man that was in ear shot. Even as Titus finished the piercing note, he saw a distant doe bolt into the forest and several servants run to their hovels.
"Foolish ones, you are not my prey tonight."
Titus kicked the heels of his naked feet into the stallion's sides and the horse bolted off towards his serf's fields. Titus's serfs were healthy and strong. though the fertile dirt made anything grow with ease. The baron took care of his serfs. He protected them from attack and made sure they shared in the glory of his conquests. However, it came at a cost.
Titus blew the horn again, signalling that the hunt would now begin. The rules of his hunt were simple:
1. after the second horn blast, the hunt would begin.
2. Anyone who gave the prey asylum during the hunt would be flogged.
3. However, anyone who helped capture the prey or hindered it would be flogged and then dragged back to the baron's castle as a trophy.
Of couse, the prey was nothing so simple. She would be a young serf, healthy and fleet of foot.who was given free reign to use the fields, forest or lake while he pursued her. If she kept away for the entire night, she would be freed...but no one had beaten the hunt. 7 years the hunt had occured and ten years all that was left of the women were torn clothes, hoofprints, and the signs of a struggle.
Titus grabbed a pouch from the saddle and loosened the chord which bound it. He breathed deep from the aroma which spilled forth from the pouch and smiled in ecstasy as the feeling of rushing blood overtook his body. His eyesight and other senses seemed sharpened as he tightened his grip on the reigns. He could feel his inner beast come to the surface.
Titus charged into town, looking for the sign of his prey.