Chapter 20: The Furry and The Dead

Chapter 20: The Furry and The Dead Suddenly, a new figure appeared. Another Lupen, all white fur, with a more intricately designed blue-striped armor, landed silently at the center. Her eyes, sharp and intelligent, swept over the scene. "Stand down, you fools!" she commanded, her voice clear and authoritative. Nu, still dazed, recognized the voice. He cowered, the transformation visibly receding, his body shrinking back to its normal size. "Please forgive us, Captain Luma!" he stammered, his bravado utterly gone. Luma’s gaze was cold. "You all will be facing 10 moons as suspension. I’ve been tasked at observing you lot for abusing your authority, and I have seen enough. You’ve also been extorting the citizens of Stonehorn Crossing." She pointed a clawed finger at Nu. "Take your men and report to Commander Urma. Now!" Nu quickly, his head bowed, and dragged the two unconscious Lupen guards away, disappearing into a side alley. Luma now faced Rook. Even wrapped in his robes, Rook casually emitted an undead energy, a subtle chill that made Luma sweat despite herself. Her fur bristled. Even when he was covered, she could smell everyone’s aura, and that was not the smell of a human. She was born from a particular tribe called the Moon wolves, who had inherent abilities to smell aura. She was wondering how an undead, especially one so powerful, had even gotten here. She forced herself to maintain a calm facade. She turned to Orkesh and the kobolds, her voice softening slightly. "Are you all right?" Orkesh sheepishly nodded, still slightly shaken by the encounter. "W-we’re fine, Miss Luma. We were on our way to the market to trade our products." Luma’s gaze flickered back to Rook, a hint of suspicion in her eyes. "Can you all come with me to the alley I have quick questions, I need to ask all of you." She gestured towards the narrow passage Nu had just disappeared into. Orkesh and the kobolds exchanged glances, then nodded, following her. Rook followed last, his movements silent, his presence a heavy shadow. Arriving at a private alley, away from the bustling street, Luma’s tone changed, becoming sharp and investigative. Her eyes, keen and piercing, fixed on Orkesh. "Are you the one who brought this undead here?" Mina, Manicia, and Orkesh were surprised by the directness of her question. Orkesh stammered, finding it hard to explain. "Uhhh... we... uhhh... we came to trade here, and uhhh... he’s our escort in case things got hairy, like with Nu, who was about to take our stuff. Then he got involved, but Nu and his men were the first ones who engaged us, so our escort had to act." Luma gazed at the kobolds, her expression unyielding. "I can see that. But that doesn’t answer my question. Are you the one who brought this undead?" Rook then spoke, his synthesized voice cutting through the tension, perfectly polite, yet firm. "I apologize for interrupting, but I am merely tasked with escorting them." Luma’s eyes widened. She instinctively drew her sword, the blade hissing as it cleared its sheath, and and struck Rook at the neck. The blade connected, but Rook simply shielded it with his gloved hand, the metal scraping against his gloves. "I assume your intention is to harm us?" Rook intoned, his voice devoid of emotion, yet carrying a chilling undertone. Luma’s eyes widened further. How could an undead speak? Unless... it’s a Lich. Her guard immediately went up, her sword held defensively. "It is not my intention," she answered, her voice tight. "But you, Lich, if you intend to harm the people of Stonehorn and manipulate these poor kobolds to do your deeds..." "Miss Lum—" Orkesh interjected, but Luma cut him off, gesturing for them not to speak, her eyes still locked on Rook. "Then you will face the might of the Hillkin Alliance, Lich!" Luma declared, her voice ringing with defiance. Rook’s head tilted slightly. "Surely you jest. I am merely a lowly minion for my lord. I do not take the word lightly that you assumed me for a Lich. If you so desire to tarnish my lord’s reputation by mistaking my lowly appearance as a Lich then, you will also face the might of the undead." Both Rook’s and Luma’s auras flared up simultaneously, a palpable wave of raw power. Rook’s was cold, ancient, and bone-deep. Luma’s was fierce, wild, and charged with the power of her lupen bloodline. The alley seemed to grow heavy with the unspoken threat of battle. Luma, ever the reasonable and rational one in her race, despite the overwhelming aura, forced herself to think. "Wait," she said, her voice strained. "I do not understand. If you’re not a Lich, then how is it you can speak?" Rook’s aura receded slightly, his voice returning to its polite, flat tone. "It is none of your business to pry. Our only intention is to have a negotiable trade and return. That is all." Luma thought hard, confusion warring with her instincts. The undead’s words were so direct, so... business-like. She slowly drew her sword back, the blade hissing as it re-entered its sheath. She sighed, a sound of frustration and embarrassment. "Then if you want to trade, you must have a permit." Rook, Orkesh, Mina, and Manicia all produced their permits, simple parchment scrolls bearing official seals. Luma, expecting them to be criminals or smugglers, was surprised. They were indeed only wanted to trade. She had embarrassed herself, making assumptions. "Th-then you can go," she stammered, waving them away, her face flushing faintly beneath her white fur. Orkesh was the first to walk away, relief flooding him, heading back into the main streets. Mina and Manicia quickly followed. Rook watched the white-furred female Lupen carefully, his empty eye sockets fixed on her, before turning his back and following the others, his movements silent and watchful. Luma, however, remained confused. She stared at the empty alley, then shook her head. "I’ll investigate later," she muttered to herself. She still had a report to make to Commander Urma. With a powerful leap, she jumped away, disappearing through the town’s roofs, a silent shadow. A large, cloaked figure, hidden deep in the alley’s shadows, watched Orkesh’s group walk away. Rook’s head subtly swiveled, his empty eye sockets scanning the area where the figure had been, but it had already melted back into the alley’s depths, unseen.