momentum to add power to a kick that connected to the rider’s chin with a loud crack. The Dorokti tumbled backward off the tail end of his mount and rolled to a stop in the tall grass. Kiff landed on his board on the other side of the horse and swept around to take care of the next rider.
Flint wove his fingers in an arcane pattern and chanted ancient words. His fingers glowed as a small ball of orange light appeared between his palms.
Polas yelled, " Baw’tes ! Stop!"
He launched himself into the panther Dorokti, spinning the hunter around to place himself in the way of Flint’s spell. The Faldred’s blast of flame struck Polas in the back and fizzled, leaving a black mark on his clothes.
"Sorry," Flint said.
Xandra froze and stared at Polas, her mouth open.
"We must surrender to them," Polas said. "We need to meet with their leader."
Flint cast a wary look to his student, and Xandra kept her quarterstaff at a low guard. Flint lowered his hands, but his eyes darted between the Dorokti hunters, watching for any signs of further aggression.
The panther whistled for his hunters to lower their weapons.
Kiff was the last to halt. He threw a few last punches into the face of the second rider, who was now lying on his back with the Undlander sitting on his chest.
"Kiff," Polas shouted, "that’s enough!"
The bear Dorokti hauled both Kiff and the auburn-furred rider to their feet and gave Kiff a quick punch to the stomach, knocking the wind from him.
"What’s happening, Master Kas Dorian?" Xandra surrendered her staff to the wolf and finished lacing up the back of her tunic.
"These are hunters of the Dorokti, and we are trespassing on their traditional lands," Polas said.
"If you knew this, then why did we come this way?" Flint kept careful watch over the lynx whose fur was burned off in a great patch across his chest as he gathered Flint’s packs and loaded them onto one of the horses.
"As I said, we must meet with them."
"Them?" Xandra said. "They're the ones we came to meet?"
"I'm not certain," Polas said. "I imagine so."
The panther held a curved dagger toward Polas’s throat and pushed him back away from his allies. When he spoke, it was in the ancient language of the Dorokti. " Eh cheh ool sal ."
Polas was relieved to find that the language had survived and that he would be able to understand and, hopefully, find safe glen with these hunters. "I need to see your king, the descendent of Ve. He must join me in battle."
The panther narrowed his eyes and took a long look at Polas, from his boots to his masked face. " Nie sehn ."
"Give them your weapons," Polas said.
Kertyah took the leader’s sword away. It was surprisingly light, and its blade was whiter than the snows of Corubus. Something about the weapon sparked a memory. He found himself thinking of wars, dark gods, and something else buried deep within, some flicker that caused his pulse to quicken. Nevertheless, these were merely trespassers here to defile his home. He shook his thoughts away and returned his mind to his captives.
The hunters of the Ginakti clan gathered their prisoners around the small camp and tied their hands together behind them. They piled all of the weapons onto the fabric of the girl’s tent and rolled them into a tight pack.
Kertyah made sure everything was loaded onto horses and that the campsite was cleared. Before leaving, he walked around the group of strangers and checked their restraints. The bindings on the Peltin man and the young girl were tight, and he instructed Amrus to wrap double around the Faldred’s hands.
When he tugged on the Undlander’s cords, they fell to the ground. The boy shrugged. Kertyah growled and bent the boy's arms back. The left hand remained straight as Kertyah tried to pin it to his shoulder blade, and the Undlander cried out as though he had been stabbed.
"Watch it!" he said.
Kertyah finished binding his arms behind his back and motioned for Kath to retrieve the body of
Flint wove his fingers in an arcane pattern and chanted ancient words. His fingers glowed as a small ball of orange light appeared between his palms.
Polas yelled, " Baw’tes ! Stop!"
He launched himself into the panther Dorokti, spinning the hunter around to place himself in the way of Flint’s spell. The Faldred’s blast of flame struck Polas in the back and fizzled, leaving a black mark on his clothes.
"Sorry," Flint said.
Xandra froze and stared at Polas, her mouth open.
"We must surrender to them," Polas said. "We need to meet with their leader."
Flint cast a wary look to his student, and Xandra kept her quarterstaff at a low guard. Flint lowered his hands, but his eyes darted between the Dorokti hunters, watching for any signs of further aggression.
The panther whistled for his hunters to lower their weapons.
Kiff was the last to halt. He threw a few last punches into the face of the second rider, who was now lying on his back with the Undlander sitting on his chest.
"Kiff," Polas shouted, "that’s enough!"
The bear Dorokti hauled both Kiff and the auburn-furred rider to their feet and gave Kiff a quick punch to the stomach, knocking the wind from him.
"What’s happening, Master Kas Dorian?" Xandra surrendered her staff to the wolf and finished lacing up the back of her tunic.
"These are hunters of the Dorokti, and we are trespassing on their traditional lands," Polas said.
"If you knew this, then why did we come this way?" Flint kept careful watch over the lynx whose fur was burned off in a great patch across his chest as he gathered Flint’s packs and loaded them onto one of the horses.
"As I said, we must meet with them."
"Them?" Xandra said. "They're the ones we came to meet?"
"I'm not certain," Polas said. "I imagine so."
The panther held a curved dagger toward Polas’s throat and pushed him back away from his allies. When he spoke, it was in the ancient language of the Dorokti. " Eh cheh ool sal ."
Polas was relieved to find that the language had survived and that he would be able to understand and, hopefully, find safe glen with these hunters. "I need to see your king, the descendent of Ve. He must join me in battle."
The panther narrowed his eyes and took a long look at Polas, from his boots to his masked face. " Nie sehn ."
"Give them your weapons," Polas said.
Kertyah took the leader’s sword away. It was surprisingly light, and its blade was whiter than the snows of Corubus. Something about the weapon sparked a memory. He found himself thinking of wars, dark gods, and something else buried deep within, some flicker that caused his pulse to quicken. Nevertheless, these were merely trespassers here to defile his home. He shook his thoughts away and returned his mind to his captives.
The hunters of the Ginakti clan gathered their prisoners around the small camp and tied their hands together behind them. They piled all of the weapons onto the fabric of the girl’s tent and rolled them into a tight pack.
Kertyah made sure everything was loaded onto horses and that the campsite was cleared. Before leaving, he walked around the group of strangers and checked their restraints. The bindings on the Peltin man and the young girl were tight, and he instructed Amrus to wrap double around the Faldred’s hands.
When he tugged on the Undlander’s cords, they fell to the ground. The boy shrugged. Kertyah growled and bent the boy's arms back. The left hand remained straight as Kertyah tried to pin it to his shoulder blade, and the Undlander cried out as though he had been stabbed.
"Watch it!" he said.
Kertyah finished binding his arms behind his back and motioned for Kath to retrieve the body of
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