[Writing] The Bounty Project, final chapters (5th Jan 2018)

[Tapewolf]

'Bounty Project' is a working title.  Suggestions are welcome.

I have a few misgivings about posting this: I'm struggling with chapter 10 a bit, and I'm a bit worried that I might find errors later on that will require the earlier chapters to be revised (this happened with 'Heads You Lose').

Originally I set out to write this as Project Future 3, i.e. a full-length story.  I'm not sure the concepts will stretch that far, but we'll see.  My estimates are that it'll be around 15-20 chapters.

I don't find as much time to write as I used to, so progress has been a bit erratic, but I have 9 finished chapters already and this section could do with a bit more activity, so what the hell.
As with most of my recent writing, it deals with adventuring and there will be violence, though that is not strictly the focus of the story.

Enough babbling.  See what you think.


Chapter 1

Arjen looked at the rack of weapons, one of several in the house.  He hefted a broadsword, noting the telltale marks on the surface of the blade where it had been frequently used for chopping attacks.

"Well, I'd say the deceased was an adventurer," he said.  "Judging from the scratch patterns on his swords, this Edgar was fond of decapitations.  I imagine he put up quite a fight."

"Until the killer dropped a sofa on him," Josh said, examining the destroyed furniture and the feet protruding from beneath it.

"A Demon, then?"

"Probably.  Of course, androids can be strong too," the husky added, "But usually we're pretty normal.  Level-headed, I mean... It's one of the conditions the Commission set on allowing us... no psychotic androids.  From the level of brutality involved, I'm pretty sure we're looking at  a Demon's handiwork.  Ugh, so much blood...  Did they find the head?"

"Not so far.  I doubt we will, sir."

"Just being thorough.  Most likely the killer took it with them, either as a trophy or as proof of a hit..."

"So, we're probably looking at a Creature taking down an adventurer.  Revenge killing?"

"Demons don't normally do revenge," Josh said.  "It could be an Angel or a 'Cubi, of course, but a Demon fits the profile better.  Of course, someone might have contracted a Demon to do a revenge killing for them," he added.  "Yes.  See the prints... looks like modern platemail to me - factory stuff.  Plantigrade.  I'm guessing a merc or some other warrior for hire.  With the head gone, that suggests some kind of bounty."

"I'll call the local adventuring guild," Arjen said.  "See what they know."

*  *  *

The computer chimed softly.  Steve glanced at the screen, platemail gloves clattering on the ruggedized keyboard.  An annoying tearing noise followed as a sheet of fanfold slowly emerged from an ancient dot-matrix printer.

"Alright, folks," the alsatian Demon called, tearing the sheet carefully along the perforation, no mean feat for someone wearing a pair of gauntlets, "New job.  Escort duty.  Who's up for it?"

Outside his office, a number of adventurers were passing their time.  Daniel, a handsome Doberman incubus was sharpening his broadsword.  Roger the leopard and a blue fox named Benjamin were playing games on their phones, while Jason, a muscular jackal with dark blue fur, was checking and polishing his armour.  The other adventurer, a rainbow-coloured wolf Demon, clad in threatening armour decorated with skulls, was avidly reading the review section of 'Executioner's Monthly', which had a comparative round-up of the latest axes and swords.  Hearing the printer, her ears pricking up and she glanced around rapidly, a wide grin splitting across her muzzle.

"Me, me!" she called, dropping the magazine and racing through the door into the commander's office.

"Oh no," Steve objected.  "No more escort duty for you, Mary.  I'll not have you causing a scene like the last time."

"But that's not fair!" the wolf snarled.  "I got them safely to the kingdom!  What more do you want...?"

"I wanted them to arrive safe in mind, as well as body," the alsatian grumbled.  "Yes, you got those noblemen here intact, but they were left extremely traumatised by the way you ripped the bandit leader's head from his shoulders with your bare hands..."

"That's not true!  I was wearing gauntlets!"

"...right in front of their very eyes, and then..."

"Nobody warned me they were squeamish!"

"Tell me, Mary... does a mission where you escort a group of nobles usually involve a ventriloquism act using the severed heads of their foes?"

"It does when I do it." the wolf shrugged.

"No.  As it happens I have a much better use for you," the commander scowled, handing her a printout.  "Execution duty.  Notorious serial killer in the town of Bundebar.  Details enclosed."

"Sweet!" the Demon said, and ran into the workshop to sharpen her axe.

"Sometimes she scares me," Ben said, glancing at the commander.  "How do you put up with her...?"

Steve gave the blue fox a questioning look.  "Would you rather be executing people yourself...?"

"No," Ben admitted.

"I didn't think so.  Your Lord Daryil doesn't think highly of it and I'm not too happy about executing people myself, though I'd rather you didn't tell Mary that.  But at the end of the day... that's adventuring.  Sometimes you have to do things you don't like for the greater good.  But we do have her to handle the ugliest parts for us."

"All the same, she likes it far too much."

"I won't argue with that.  Still, it provides a useful outlet for her destructive urges.  If she wasn't working for us she'd be decapitating her way across the countryside, massacring hapless innocents instead of bandits or condemnned criminals in some hick mountain town.  Look, Ben... I'm a pure-blood Demon and even I would not want to go head to head against her in fight to the death."

"Anyway, escort duty?" Ben asked.

"Yeah.  Lady Featherstone.  Needs to be taken to some ruins in the wilderness, worried about bandits."

"Anything else I should know?"

"Yeah.  You'll need to pack your things, because it's in Marwood," the alsatian told him.

"Marwood?!  That's way outside our jurisdiction!"

"Indeed.  But the local guild is tied up with an emergency, so they need to bring in someone else.  Olaf Taun asked me to handle it.  Or rather, he asked you."

"Oh?"

"Yes.  This Lady Featherstone is not fond of Creatures, so we need to send someone who gets on well with Beings.  And you were a Being before you joined Daryil's clan and became an incubus, so he wanted you to do it.  But I'd hide your wings to avoid spooking her."

"Sir, if I was hand-picked for this, why were you asking for volunteers?"

"It needs three of you.  It starts next week, so take your time preparing.  You'll need to fly out Monday morning, meet up with her and set off in earnest the following day."

*  *  *

A well-muscled capybara appeared on the screen.  There were traces of earth in his fur.  "Good afternoon," he began, "Howell Vegetable Produce.  Richard Howell speaking, how can I help you?"

"It's about these carrots," Daryil said, holding a small plastic tray of supermarket carrots.  "You grew them, I believe?"

"Is there a problem?  Can you give me the batch number?"  Noticing Daryil's wings and headwings, the capybara touched a bracelet on his wrist and a pair of Demon wings sprouted behind his back.

"Oh, you're as cute as I imagined," Daryil said, wagging his large vulpine tail.  "Especially with those wings.  You know, it's kind of hot in here... how about you take off your shirt...?"

"What?!" the Demon demanded.  "Is this some kind of incubus thing...?"

"No, but this is!"  Daryil said, giving a coy smile and performed an ancient 'cubi trick, stealing his own pants with a single pull to reveal a pair of glossy black latex stockings and a thong.

"Sir, are you attempting to seduce me?" the capybara sighed.

"I like your carrots," Daryil said.  Then he turned with a start as a wolf incubus strode into the room, long hair and shirtless.  And angry.

"Dammit, Daryil!  What are you doing now?  Who is this?"

"This is Mr. Howell," Daryil said, handing Jakob the tray of carrots.  "I found his name on the carrots in our fridge.  Isn't he sexy?"

"No, Daryil!  NO!" Jakob protested.  "They'll cut off the phones again if you keep doing this.  I'm really sorry, sir," he added to the bemused farmer.

"Fine," Daryil sulked.  "Let's talk carrots.  Or cookies.  Yeah!  Can you send us three boxes of disabled cookies?"

"Dis... What?"

"Disabled cookies... the ones that go everywhere..."

"You mean mis-shapes," Jakob said.

"Special Needs cookies," Daryil said.  "Yeah, can we have some of..."

"Sir, my farm sells vegetables," the Demon said, in a slightly huffy tone.

"But cookies are vegetables too," Daryil said.  "They grow in the ground." he stared at the rodent dreamily.  "You know, you really are kind of hot," he added.  "What do you think, Jakob?"

"Yeah,'d tap that," the wolf said, looking at the farmer critically.  "He is rather good-looking, but that's no excuse for forcing your affections on him!  Enough people still think of us as murderers and rapists and you are not helping!"

"But I just want him to stick his carrot in..."

"NO!  Daryil, please leave us." Jakob said, in a voice of forced calm.

"I'll go," Daryil said.  "But on one condition."  He batted his eyes at Jakob.

"Afterwards," Jakob said.  "Mr Howell, I'm so sorry about this," the wolf added, as Daryil skipped out of the room.  "I'll change the codes so he can't do this again."

"I'll live," the capybara said.  "You should have seen the trade negotiations with Nact'Larn clan."

*  *  *

There was a knock at the door.  Daniel started and put down his sword.  Mary did the opposite, taking up her axe with a vicious grin.  The Doberman noticed this and raced to the door, determined to reach it before the wolf demon could.

"Naughty," Steve said, intercepting Mary.  "We have a new scout joining us and I don't want you killing him before he's even been put on the payroll."

Outside, a burly figure stood, leaning on a large, heavy packing crate.  "Parcel for Northwood Guild," she informed them.  Steve emerged shortly afterwards, taking the large box with one hand while Daniel signed for it.

"Okay Ben," Steve said, as the adventurers crowded around the box.  "I don't know how you're planning to get this thing home, but I do want the place tidy before Ralph arrives, so please move it somewhere out of the way."

"It's not mine," the fox said, looking nonplussed.

"Jason, then..?" the Demon asked.  "There's no name on the label.  It's just addressed to the guildhall."

The blue jackal shrugged, causing his platemail to clank.  "I didn't order anything."

"Maybe it's the flat-pack gallows from the 'Executioner's Monthly' competition!" Mary said, eyes shining.

Steve's eyes narrowed.  "Unlikely.  It's been sent from Daryil clan.  Ben and Jason are the only Daryil clan 'cubi here.  So if it's not for them..."

"Should we open it?"  Roger asked.  "Could it be a trap?"

"From Daryil?  Unlikely.  But it may be some kind of prank."

"It's got a radiation symbol on it!"  Roger protested.

"Then whatever it is, it's fusion-powered." the Doberman said.  "Pity... it's too small to be a motorbike.  A lawnmower, perhaps?"

"I was hoping it was the new drinks machine," Roger said.

"I'll open it!" Mary said, eagerly.  "Reckon an axe will damage it...?"

At this, the crate lurched and split apart, disgorging an avalanche of white packing chips.  A quadrupedal figure emerged from the ruins, and shook itself, spluttering to get fragments of the white plastic out of its mouth.  An angular-looking feral wolf finished in shiny, black metal, eyes glowing with a bright ruby red.

"Afternoon," the creature said.  "I'm Ralf.  Which of you is Commander Steve?"

[ZacAttac21]

Daryil never fails to amuse me.

I even found Mary's dialogue about the severed heads amusing.

And I think this "Benjamin" guy is my favorite character so far.

As for the title, I would at least call it "The Bounty Project." It just doesn't sound right to me without the "The."

[Tapewolf]

Daryil never fails to amuse me.
I even found Mary's dialogue about the severed heads amusing.
As for the title, I would at least call it "The Bounty Project." It just doesn't sound right to me without the "The."

Thanks.  Mary is fun to write.  The thing about the 'disabled cookies' was lifted almost verbatim from a surreal conversation at work.  The bid about cookies growing in the ground was a Daryil-ism though.

As for the title, it didn't have 'The' because with 'Project Future' and 'The Epsilon Project', they were referring to in-universe research projects.  At this point, there isn't an in-universe 'bounty project'... though that could easily change.

[ZacAttac21]

I got it: "WANTED."

[ZacAttac21]

How often is this going to update, anyway?

[Tapewolf]

How often is this going to update, anyway?

Every second week.  So I'll be posting chapter 2 this coming Saturday.  I may have 11 chapters queued, but I'm still worried that I'll run out and it'll grind to a halt for a bit...

[Tapewolf]

Early update.  Contains violence.

Chapter 2

Svenson ducked.  The otter's sword flashed above him, slicing the fur from the tip of his ear.

"I know what you've done, fiend," Higgs said.

"Would you care to clue me in, then?" the coyote retorted.

"Obediah's murder will not go unpunished!  I have come to do justice upon you, to bring back your winged head just as you took his!  Surrender yourself to me and your death will be swift and merciful!"

"There must be a mistake," the incubus said, entering a defensive posture, wings ready to block the warrior's sword.  "Firstly, I haven't murdered anyone, and even if I had, this kind of justice has to go through the King first.  You can't just lop someone's head off based on some hearsay!"

"You have murdered a Being, and the sentence for that is death," the adventurer sneered.  "The King will reward me well for this justice done."

"Someone needs to teach you a lesson," the incubus snarled.  A wing knocked the sword from the adventurer's hand, he grabbed firmly at the otter's wrist.  Higgs yelped with pain for a moment as the Creature's eyes glowed with magical power.

The otter rolled aside as soon as his arm was released.  He looked all around, but his quarry was gone.

"THERE IT IS!" someone yelled.  Higgs was swiftly pinned down and relieved of his weapon.  The last thing he remembered before the stun spell hit was a glowing mark on his wrist.

*  *  *

"I'm Steve," the commander said, offering a hand to the robotic wolf, then awkwardly realising that Ralf didn't have hands.  The feral wolf padded forward, sat down and shook his hand anyway, much as a pet dog would.

"I take it Daryil sent you?" the Demon asked, still slightly surprised.  The other adventurers were silent.

"Yes," Ralf said.  "He heard you were looking for a scout.  Meanwhile, Jayhawk's new stealth model needs to be field-tested before we can be signed off as an approved lifeform by the Being-Creature Commission and put into mass-production.  So here I am.  R-ALF, serial no 17, system 6.05, rev 91.  At your service."

"Ben Daryil," the blue fox said, approaching the robot.  "I don't mean any offence, but... well, you're a shiny black metal wolf with red glowing eyes.  Exactly how is that in any way stealthy?"

The wolf disappeared, leaving only a pair of faint red lights floating in the air and a slight ripple in the air like heat convection above a radiator.

"I can turn those off too," Ralf said, and the red glow vanished.  "Any questions?"

"Neat," Daniel said.  "Is it magic?"

"No.  A photon tunnelling field.  The projector is a mesh just below the armour."

"Clever.  What are the drawbacks?"

"There's a small amount of leakage around the eyes, otherwise I'd be blind.  Even so, I can't see very well while the cloak is active.  It also takes a lot of energy to run and it competes with my drive circuits so I have to move carefully.  Walking's fine, but the first time I tried it I ran down the corridor and it caused a brown-out in my locomotion subsystem.  Not enough power to drive my muscles and I went down like a sack of potatoes.  So embarrassing!  Okay, since I was invisible no-one was able to SEE that, but they still knew.  Damn throught-readers..."

"Did they add some kind of speed governor?" Jason asked.

"We considered it, but in emergencies I might need the speed boost.  They did add extra monitoring so I know I'm running into trouble, and they also made the power topology switchable so I can decide if the cloak or my muscles take priority in a brown-out."
 
"Sounds good."

Ralf grinned toothily.  "That's the advantage of being a prototype," he said.  "You get a say in your own development process."

"So," he added, looking up at Steve.  "When do I start?"

*  *  *

The armoured fox grimaced, looking at the distressed otter with a look of undisguised loathing and contempt.

"Incubus!" he snarled.  "You murdered Higgs and took his place!  You'll pay for this, monster."

"But I didn't..." Higgs started, and was quickly silenced with a slap to the muzzle.

"What do we do, Sir?" the rabbit asked.  "Hand him over to the authorities?"

"No," the fox murmured.  "This is an internal matter.  The King is an incubus also and will give this monster a leniency he does not deserve.  No... we'll do justice right  now.  Take him to the back room."

"You can't!" the otter screamed.  "I'm not!  I'm not a 'Cubi!  I'm a Being!  I'm your friend!  Don't do this, commander!"

"Then explain THAT," the fox snapped, pointing at the rune-like marking on the stricken otter's arm.

"I don't know!  I don't know!  He did this to me!  He created it!"

"That's a clan mark," the fox retorted.  "The one thing you can't hide with your shapeshifting powers.  Decapitate him," he added.

The adventurers smiled cruelly as their erstwhile comrade was strapped onto the bench, and tilted down into place.  The otter gave one last despairing scream as the lunette snapped down about his neck, a scream that was cut off horribly as the blade slammed into the stop.

"Now..." the fox said, watching the quivering corpse with a satisfied smile.  "Now his shapeshifting magic will end!  Now we'll see proof..."

Two minutes passed.  His expression faltered slightly, as the otter's body lapsed into the stillness of death, the flow of blood slowing to a halt.  The corpse remained perfectly wingless, and stubbornly refused to stop being an otter.

The door behind them splintered as it was kicked open.  Demon guards in motorcycle gear flooded into the room, and each adventurer soon found a red laser sight resting between his or her eyes.

Captain Zenner looked at the dripping corpse on the guillotine, and then glanced back at the cowering adventurers, an expression of fury etched upon his face.

"What foul deed is this...?" he demanded.

"Oh... shit," the commander said.

*  *  *

"Daryil," Jakob said, pushing the door open.  His wings fanned out as he took in the scene.  Daryil hastily grabbed at the bedsheets, giving himself and the Capybara some modesty.

"Shit, shit," Jakob said.  "Sorry, I'll come back later."

"Aw," Daryil said, "are you sure you don't want to join in?  Ricky here is really good in bed!"

"He did consent to this, didn't he?" Jakob said, eyes narrowing.

"Are you kidding?!" the capybara said.  "How many Demons can say they've banged a Tri-Wing?  You can't BUY that kind of reputation!"

*  *  *

"Let's go somewhere more comfortable," Fairwater said.  Josh glanced at him.  "Thanks for the offer, your majesty, but I'm not gay."

"Not like that," the king corrected him.  "Well, not unless you want to, of course.  I was thinking more of a meeting room."

"That throne of mine isn't the most comfortable thing in the world," he added.  "I should probably get it re-upholstered.  Admaria and I, we have to sit on the thing for at least three hours a day during business hours so people can petition us.  Tradition, you know."

"Lately the kingdom has been peaceful and content," the Queen put in.  "Obviously that's a good thing, but it does mean that not many people want an audience and we're just sitting on the damned things for no reason.  I'm so glad we have data tablets and handheld games these days, it helps pass the time."


"So, Majesty," the husky said, as they settled into couches in a parlour, "At Starfire we've been seeing a recent spike in the number of adventurers being murdered.  Not killed in the line of duty, but assassinated or otherwise attacked in their homes or nearby.  Have you been seeing this?"

"Ugh," Fairwater grimmaced.  "Tell me about it.  I had to guillotine two people this morning.  They murdered one of their fellow adventurers."

"I didn't think common murder was punished that harshly," Josh said.  "Isn't that against the constitution?  No offence intended, my Lord."

"None taken.  And no, common murder is not a capital crime.  But this was a racially-motivated murder, and that does fetch the death penalty.  I will not tolerate such in my city - the races MUST get along together, even if I have to force them to at times.  Now, the defence argued that it was a Being-on-Being killing and not a racially-motivated murder at all.  But the accused eventually admitted that the reason they had beheaded their colleague was because they saw a clan-mark and believed that an incubus had replaced him."

"So it came down to intent?"

"Yes.  If you murder a man because you believe they're a Creature and it turns out you're wrong, you've still set out to murder someone just because they're a Creature.  And the person they murdered is still dead, so I found them guilty."  The Doberman sighed heavily.  "May the gods forgive them."

"But what about the clan-mark?"  Joshua asked.  "I mean, it wouldn't alter the outcome, but are you certain the deceased was a Being?  It's fantastically rare, but there are some 'cubi born without wings who only get them when a normal 'cubi's head-wings would appear..."

"No.  The clan-mark is fake - we managed to dispel a small piece of it.  It's something like a magical tattoo, although not a type the pathologist has seen before.  What actually seems to have happened was that the deceased, one Mr. Higgs, had a run-in with an incubus or succubus and was given this fake clan mark for some reason, perhaps to teach the adventurer what it's like to be hunted by bigots.

"Either way, his comrades jumped on him, ignored his protestations of innocence, and then fox-face took the law into his own hands.  As you probably know, a lot of adventuring guilds have execution facilities on-premise.  It's a holdover from the bad old days.  In this case, they had a guillotine.  We had reports of an incubus being attacked and abducted by the guild.  My men found them all staring at Mr. Higgs' headless corpse, wondering why it hadn't sprouted wings."

"Karmic, I suppose," Josh said, wincing.  "That you gave this fox the same fate."

"I was tempted to suspend his death sentence," Fairwater sighed.  "It was a mistake, and he did confess.  But his comrades gave testimony that, while deciding Higgs' fate, he believed I would show undue leniency since Higgs was supposedly 'cubi.  He tried to pervert justice, and undermine MY authority by carrying out his own so-called-justice behind my back.  THAT is what sealed his fate during the trial.  For their contrition I gave them the mercy of a private execution and a free funeral, both the commander and his underling, the rabbit who pulled the lever.  The rest of the group were just accessories and will be eligible for parole in a few years."

"So, do you know who the incubus was?" Josh asked.

"Not yet.  But I do intend to question him if he is found.  Provocation aside, his little jape has cost three people their heads."

"Arguably he was just the catalyst," Josh shrugged.  "They brought it upon themselves."

[ZacAttac21]

*snrk* I had been figuring for a while that Demons would jump at the chance to bed a Tri-wing, for that exact reason. Nice to see it actually come up.

[Tapewolf]

Contains violence.

Chapter 3

"Look what I've got!" Mary said, placing a large picnic cooler on Steve's desk, and wagging her tail.

"Champagne...?" the other Demon asked, a grin breaking out.  "Is that from Bundebar?  They must REALLY have wanted that guy dead!"

"This is better than booze," Mary said.  She up-ended the container and several ice-packs tipped out, along the severed head of a mouse, scarred ears, one eye covered with a patch, his mouth still open.  There was a loud, metallic crash as Steve recoiled in horror, the heavy platemail overbalancing his chair.

"Holy gods, Mary.  You could at least have warned me!"

"You've gone soft, Steve," the wolf said, rolling her eyes.  "You've been around Beings too much."

"That's why I'm commander. I can relate to Beings and empathise with them, whereas you scare the piss out of them.  Remember, Mary... Beings are our clients.  We have to get along with them."

"I know, I know.  Now.  About my bandit - any outstanding bounties on her?  There's a couple more in here as well," she added, placing a second icebox on the table.

"Would it kill you to bring in some bandits alive for a change..?"  Steve scowled, pointing the severed rodent head at a webcam.

"You're right, it would make a change," Mary said, eyes shining.  "It's been ages since we used the guillotine downstairs!  Reckon we could force Ben to do it?  Make him less squeamish!"

"Urgh, forget it," Steve said.  "I'll search the database.  When we're done, put your bandits in the fridge.  The special one, NOT the one we keep milk in."

"You should have seen his face!" Mary said, giggling uncontrollably.

"Be that as it may, if Ben pukes up again, you'll be cleaning it up.  And on shit duty for a month.  Are we clear...?"

"Spoilsport!"

"Clients can see the fridge too, Mary.  Most of them are not expecting to have a severed head stare back at them when we make their coffee."

"Is it always like this here?"  Ralf asked.

"I wish," Mary said.

*  *  *

"...dead...?" the coyote repeated.  His head-wings fanned out, and then fell, his ears pinned back in terror.  "Don't kill me!" he pleaded.  The King and his Demon captain stared back impassively.

"The guild's legal team are pressing for a charge of racially-motivated murder," the King informed him gravely.  "As you know, that carries a penalty of death by beheading."

"...beheading..." the incubus whispered, eyes widening.

"Indeed.  A confession might help your case.  Either way, you have a great deal of explaining to do."

"What's to explain...?" the other 'cubi protested desperately.  "I was set upon by this crazed adventurer!  He said I'd murdered someone!  Oliver?  Obediah..?  Obedemath?"

"I can only execute you once, Svenson, " Fairwater said, "But I have some discretion in how humiliating and painful your death will be.  So you might as well spill it."

"HE nearly beheaded ME!" the coyote snapped.  "What was I supposed to do?  Just meekly surrender my life to some wandering psychopath?!  You're the King - you're supposed to keep us safe!"

"Higgs was a card-carrying member of the adventurer's guild," Fairwater said.  "He knew the law, he knew the penalty for wantonly murdering a member of another race.  You'll need a better story than that!"

"But it's true!" the incubus wailed.  "I told him that the King would be angry if he lopped my head off based on some hearsay and he said that you'd REWARD him...!  So I gave him this fake mark to see how HE'D like it if people wanted to murder HIM on sight and now... now..." he broke off, sobbing profusely.

"There, there..." Fairwater said, patting the prisoner on the back.  The coyote flinched as the hand touched his neck.  "Sorry," the king said.

"Please... I've told you all I know... just make it quick..." the coyote begged.

"I am satisfied," the King said.  "While the bereaved are hoping for an execution, I am not sure this meets the standard for a racially-motivated murder," he continued.  "It seems more like racially-motivated reckless endangerment.  But you never can tell.  'cubi can be masters of deception.  I will consider what punishment is befitting, if any."

"You mean... I'm not going to die...?"

"That depends," Fairwater smiled, "upon whether you have lied to your King.  Captain Zenner!  How can we make the execution more... exciting?"

"I can pull his head off, your Majesty," the fox said, miming the deed with his hands.  "Or we can keep it conscious for a while after it's come off.  Or both!"

The coyote fainted dead away.

"It never ceases to amaze me how well this kind of emotional pressure works against 'cubi," the fox Demon remarked, hefting the incubus into a chair.  Fairwater's lip curled slightly and he opened his mouth to reply, but instead glanced around as another Rider entered to the room.

The newcomer snapped a crisp salute to his captain and then knelt before the King.

"My liege," he said,  "This was found upon the dead man's person."

Fairwater took the crumpled paper and opened it.  "Bugger me," he said.

"Was that an order, majesty...?" the Demon asked, cocking his head curiously.

"No.  But remove the coyote, Svenson.  Gently.  Put him in a cell for now... I will talk to him again later.  You can stop recording," he added, speaking directly into the microphone.  "This inquest will resume later."

*  *  *

"We've hit a big vein!"  Daryil said excitedly.

"What?  Who?  Are they going to be okay?"  Jakob said, appalled.

"No, no, no... we've hit a major deposit in the chicken mine!"

"Normally I'd point out that there is no such thing as a chicken mine," the wolf sighed, "But I'm sure you've got that covered.  So let's hear it."

"You find them in coal," Daryil said excitedly.  "See, what happens is that the chicken gets buried in some mud and goes into hibernation.  And over millions of years, the mud turns into coal.  We mine the coal and a chicken hops out!"

"That's frogs," Jakob said.  "And it's a myth.  What did you really want?"

"Oh, that?  I have had a message from Northwood guild.  Ralf has arrived safely, and they will keep us informed of his progress."

"Excellent.  Dar, do you think we made the right choice...?  Posting him, I mean?"

"They have a particularly violent Demon on staff," Daryil said. "Yeah, it would have been fun to see their reactions if he just infiltrated their HQ, but Mary might have damaged him."

*  *  *

Ben smiled evilly, his features illuminated from the soft glow of the light spell.   Mary snored loudly.  From a pocket, the fox drew a small balloon and sharpened one of his wing-tentacles to a wicked point.  He was about to start inflating the thing when he paused.  Mary stirred slightly, and he grinned even wider.

Carefully, Ben sat on the floor next to the sleeping Demon's bunk and held out one hand.  His eyes glowed yellow in the dark, and everything changed.

He was in a cold, dank corridor.  Guards stood in front and behind the three Demons, prodding them towards the light with halberds.  From not far off, the sounds of a cheering crowd echoed around the stonework.

"Where are we going, daddy?" the youngest demon asked, a child of about eight.

"To... a carnival," her father replied, with a smile.

"Can we go home after?"

"Yes, Mary.  I think so."

"Good.  I don't like it here," the child said.

At the end of the corridor, a portcullis stood closed, the guard coming to attention as they approached.  "Why is she here?" he asked, taken aback.  "You can't do that, she's a minor!"

"Oh, she'll be back.  Orders.  Prolly this is so she'll know what'll happen if she does the same..."

"I guess so," the guard said, opening the way for them.  "But I still don't like it."

A flight of steps led up to a corridor that opened out into the daylight.  Blinking in the noonday sun, they found themselves upon a large scaffold.  The crowd cheered in earnest at the sight of them.  The Queen stood nearby, watching the proceedings, dressed all in black.  The male demon was taken first.  He looked down at Mary with a cheerful grin.  "Remember what I told you, kid.  See you around."

Mary looked a bit perturbed as her father was led away.  A herald's voice droned on, reading from a list of murders and atrocities as the wolf was forced down upon the bench.  Finally he ceased the litany and the crowd fell silent.  The blade fell with a thunk that echoed across the square, the wolf's tail and wings spasmed, his legs kicking one final time.  The crowd went wild, as the other side of the guillotine, the head landed in the basket.

The herald retrieved a second scroll from his pocket and began reading again.  Mary's mouth fell open.  "Mummy?" she asked.  "Is Daddy okay..?" glancing back, she saw her mother wasn't there, but was instead being escorted to a spot not far from the guillotine, a cleared area in full view of the crowd.  Scared, the young wolf tried to follow but a gauntleted hand seized her, firm but gentle.

"Sorry kid, you stay here," the guard said.  "And don't look.  You won't want to see this."

A muscular Doberman strode in front of them, stripped to the waist and brandishing a broadsword.  The demon watched as her killer approached, a gleam of anticipation in her eye as she spotted the polished blade.  She turned back towards Mary, and winked.  Then she knelt.  Silence had fallen across the crowd.  The sword flashed down and the horned head sailed into the air accompanied by a fountain of bright blood, the unfortunate lady's body quivering as her husband's had done before her.  The silence was broken by a soft 'thud' as the head landed on the platform.  The little girl opened her mouth and emitted a piercing scream.

One of the guards, a blue fox in platemail, was watching the proceedings.  His mouth was open and his eyes wide with horror, visibly appalled at the executions.  Ben touched the young girl's shoulder, and Mary turned.  Her eyes locked with his, and suddenly she was in her twenties again, a full-grown Demon, face a mask of such fury that Ben staggered in its onslaught.  The world dissolved.



Mary rolled, flipping out of her bunk in a single, fluid motion, landing straight on top of Ben.  The fox had no time to react and found himself pinned to the floor, his hands scrabbling ineffectually as the furious Demon squeezed at his throat.

"YOU...!" she screamed.  "You little SHIT!  You... incubus!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Ben gurgled.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON OUT HERE?!"  Steve roared, fury twisting his face.

"Mary!  Let Ben go.  NOW!  Ben... just what did you do to Mary...?"

"He was in my DREAMS!" the Demon wailed.  "He SAW!"

"I didn't know!  I didn't know!  It was just a prank!  I didn't know THAT would happen!  I won't tell anyone!" the fox shrilled, feeling his throat as he struggled to sit up.

"Ben... my office." Steve snapped.  "I'll deal with you shortly.  Mary... I know this won't come easy, but... do you want to talk about it...?"

"No," the Demon said sullenly, as Ben slipped away, tail between his legs.

"I think you should.  And I wouldn't worry too much about Ben, either.  He's not a Demon - he won't see this as a weakness.  He doesn't seem the type to hoard secrets, either."

"Sometimes I have a dream," Mary said.  "A flashback, really... of the day my parents were executed."

"I'm sorry," Steve said.  The other Demon looked at him, trying to figure out if she'd just been insulted.  Steve grinned toothily.  "As I believe you have often said, I've gone native.  Can you tell me why they died...?"

"I was 7, 8 at the time..." Mary started.  "I didn't understand.  When I was older I looked it up in the court records.  They were involved in a soul-smuggling ring.   Quite a few people lost their heads that week.  And I think that was the worst part - I wanted revenge, but I was denied even that.  What they did WAS a capital crime, and looking at it rationally, like a Being might, they were soul-thieves.  They deserved to die, like all the others."

"Even looking at it as a Demon..." she continued, "Well, they screwed up and got caught, so what happened was just and proper."

"And so you became an executioner...?"

"Yes," Mary said, baring her fangs with an expression of evil glee.  "Someone more Being-like might have campaigned against the death penalty, but I'm just not wired that way.  The way I see it, if I can't have revenge for my parents, I can at least make sure others feel the same pain and loss as I did!  And I can do so in a way that's completely legal and above board!"

Steve sighed.  "As it happens, I lost my parents much the same way.  They were both guillotined for murder."

"Cool!" Mary exclaimed.  Steve glowered for a second.

"I barely remember losing them.  I was a lot younger than you when they... died.  All I have to remember them by is the footage of the execution that some dickhead uploaded onto ThouTube.  But... well, they left behind an infant Demon.  I was raised by foster parents.  The authorities wanted me brought me up as a Being, to try and avoid me going the same way.  So yes.  I am soft."

[ZacAttac21]

I can't lie, I giggled like an evil dork when I got to Ben's prank. And then I just had to cringe at the dream. Methinks a few of Mary's screws were loosened that day.

And I love that "wtf Daryil" moment.

[Tapewolf]

And then I just had to cringe at the dream. Methinks a few of Mary's screws were loosened that day.

...and this is why dream-surfing is an at-your-own-risk activity...

[Puyon]

Interesting motive for becoming an executioner... Mary makes a great demon, but could do well as a cubi from a pain or grief clan. That way she would doubly know the feelings of pain and loss she's bringing to others, heheh.

Also love how the chapter opened with Mary's deranged little surprise. Love how there's been enough incidents that they needed a special head fridge.

[ZacAttac21]

Also love how the chapter opened with Mary's deranged little surprise. Love how there's been enough incidents that they needed a special head fridge.

I would think they'd have one already, regardless of "incidents." Have you ever smelled ripe flesh?

[Tapewolf]

I would think they'd have one already, regardless of "incidents." Have you ever smelled ripe flesh?

For this kind of thing you would definitely need a morgue or other way to keep the remains preserved.  Hygiene aside, a rotten head is not going to make acceptable proof when claiming the bounty.  Longer term, they might do some kind of taxidermy, but a cooler seemed to be the obvious immediate step given how we do things in our world.

[Tapewolf]

Chapter 4

Wingless and dressed in his long adventuring coat, Ben strolled briskly through the airport, with Roger and Daniel in tow.  They passed by the security area as they made their way to arrivals.  The other side of the barrier, a shouting match was in progress between an axe-wielding adventurer and a security Demon, who was pointing angrily at a large sign above them stating that all weapons MUST be go in checked luggage.

Behind these two, in the queue for the metal detector, another adventurer was irritably removing her platemail.

"Ben Buran, Northwood adventuring guild," the fox said, shaking a leather-gauntleted hand with his client.  "And these are my colleagues, Dan and Roger."

"Lady Featherstone," the opossum replied.  "Tell me, Ben, what do you feel about having a Demon for a commander?"

"Doesn't bother me," the fox shrugged.

"Even though he's just the kind of Creature you're paid to slay...?"

Ben raised an eyebrow.  "Not really.  Demons are people too, and Steve is pretty laid-back.  Besides, if a Demon is good at doing a job and it keeps them from causing trouble, why shouldn't they?"

"The adventuring trade isn't what it used to be," Daniel interjected.  "Beings and Creatures get on a lot better now the Dragons aren't stirring up trouble between everyone."

"Quite," Ben said.  "We're paid to slay or apprehend troublemakers, regardless of their race.  And in fact, a lot of the people we have to deal with are actually Beings."

"Is that so...?" Lady Featherstone asked, looking surprised.

"Yes.  Well, Beings are the most populous race, after all.  Mostly it's bandits, and... well... executions." he glanced at Daniel.

"See, a lot of smaller places don't have enough serious crime to merit having an executioner of their own, and as a rule the locals don't want to do it," the Doberman said, taking over.  "I mean, if you've got a small, rural village where everyone knows everyone else, the executioner will be shunned by the rest of the community.  There might even be reprisals against the executioner - assuming you could even find someone willing to kill their comrade in the first place.

"So, to avoid that, the village hires a skilled swordsman or axeman from a nearby town or city to do their dirty work for them.  And that's a service our guild offers as well.  And while, fortunately, we don't get much custom from each village, there are a LOT of small villages and towns out there looking to have one of their number killed,"

"Hmm.  So, you are wandering headsmen!  Have you done this often, Daniel?"

"More than I'd like," the Doberman said.  "Hangings are the worst, if the neck doesn't break it can take an age for them to die, and they usually kick and struggle.  I prefer a beheading or a long drop hanging, but even with those the body tends to twitch and quiver a lot afterwards.  The way I see it, if someone has to pay the death penalty, I'd rather kill them myself and ensure it's done humanely, than leave it to be botched by some amateur.  That's what my combat instructor always said, and I agree completely."

"Never bothered me," Roger said, unpacking his sword and hefting it with a grin, before sliding it into the scabbard on his belt.  "Seeing 'em kick at a short-drop hanging can be a good deterrent... A slow, agonising death shows everyone you mean business.  If you don't wanna be executed, don't commit the crime in the first place.  Besides, killing 'em slowly gives you more time to cut 'em down if the villagers change their mind."   Daniel and Ben glared at him.

"What about you, Ben?" Lady Featherstone enquired.  "How many executions have you carried out?"

"I won't do it," the fox replied firmly.  "Call me an idealist, but I became an adventurer to make people's lives better, not end them.  I believe things should be settled in a non-lethal manner if at all possible, so actually setting out to slay someone like that is appalling."

"Unfortunately, sometimes it has to be done," Daniel put in.  "Perhaps it's because I was brought up in a medieval town where a hanging or beheading was considered an exciting special occasion, but there are crimes like soul-stealing where execution is the only appropriate response."

Lady Featherstone looked back at the fox with a pained expression.  "Ben, are you telling me you're a pacifist?  I hired you as a bodyguard!"

"And I will do that," Ben said patiently.  "I have killed people in self-defence, and I would do so to save others, though reluctantly.  I firmly believe that killing should be a last resort, not the opening move.  You hired me as a bodyguard, not an executioner."

"True," the opossum said, looking somewhat mollified.  "Out of interest, if I had booked an execution from your guild, who would do it?"

"Often it's Daniel, Roger or Jason.   Steve does it too if everyone else is busy, or if they specifically requested the guild leader.  That does happen sometimes, especially in very high-profile cases, such as executing royalty or something like that.  But usually our executions are carried out by... Mary."

"You hesitated.  Who is this... Mary?"

"Oh, she's a Demon too.  But she's not as approachable as Steve.  She's scary."

"Hmm," Lady Featherstone remarked, checking the time on a cellphone.  "We will speak more of this later.  Were you told where we're going?"

"Not exactly.  Some ruins somewhere in the Gerbil Mountains, wasn't it?"

"Indeed.  There is an ancient stronghold that belonged to my forefathers.  In times long past it was the capital of an ancient realm once known as Andovia.  I've recently learned that there may be some old family heirlooms still down there, and I wish to investigate."

"Is there any reason you're going there in person?"  Daniel asked.  "Surely it would be easier and safer to hire a band of professional explorers?"

"And have them run off with the treasure," Ben snickered.

"There is some truth in that," the opossum concurred.  "But the wards protecting the inner sanctum may also require one of my line to be present."

"Can't argue with that," Roger said.  "But why do you need three of us?  You think the stronghold may be occupied?"

"I believe it will be.  My family has a number of enemies, who will also be after the heirlooms as well.  These people would likely kill me if they can catch me somewhere outside the protection of the law...such as an isolated location like my ancestors' former stronghold, for example.  And of course there will surely be bandits," she replied.
"Now.  My plan is this - we'll take the train from Marwood airport, and purchase any additional supplies we may need in the city centre.  We'll stop the night at the 'Ton hotel, and set off east in the morning.  Does that sound reasonable?"

"You have planned this well," Ben said.

*  *  *

"So, Svenson.  Earlier you said that Higgs accused you of murdering someone beginning with 'O'," Fairwater said.

"Yes," the incubus said, fearfully.

"Obediah, perhaps." the King said, handing him a photocopy of the crumpled note.  "Do you know what this is?"

"It's a hit," the incubus said, staring at the page intently.  "Standard bounty contract.  For me.  Now do you believe me...?"

"I accept that you acted in self-defence where Higgs is concerned," Fairwater allowed.  "However that still leaves the fact that Southmoor guild had a warrant for your execution as a murderer."

"Well, they made a mistake," the incubus said firmly.  "I've never met this Obediah person.  I certainly haven't killed anyone for many decades... and that was in my lawful capacity as an adventurer."

"What?  You are an adventurer?" Fairwater's brows furrowed.

"Retired," the coyote said.  "Mostly, anyway.  I was laid off after the great adventuring crash, but I still pick up the odd contract from time to time."

"And yet, despite being an adventurer...  you somehow haven't killed anyone for decades?  Excuse me if I find that hard to believe."

"I'm pretty good at it," the incubus shrugged.  "Yes, I'm sure some of the bandits I captured were executed later... but that's hardly my fault."

The doberman nodded.  "A number of adventurers have been murdered recently," he brooded.  "I can't help but wonder if you were supposed to be among them.  Very well..." he concluded and clapped his hands.  "Smith!"

"Majesty?" the demon guard said, snapping to attention.  "Return Svenson's belongings to him and see him out of the castle."

"I'm... free to go?" the coyote queried.

"For now.  But you are hereby ordered to remain within the city for the time being, as the investigation is still ongoing and I may have further questions."

"And if I'm attacked again...?"

"Then you may defend yourself.  But next time, bring them to me.  Intact, so they can be questioned."

"I'm pretty good at that, your majesty," the incubus said.

*  *  *

"Jason," Steve said.  "Job for you.  A hit, I'm afraid.  Here's the address..."

"Gertrude Orlock, alias Gert the Ripper... bandit... racial murder... Central Fairwater?" Jason said, eyes narrowing.

"That's what the computer says," the Demon shrugged.  "Probably another overflow job if their own guild is busy."

"Do I have to kill them?" Jason asked.

"It's either that or we execute them here," Steve said.  "If you really want to guillotine her downstairs, or risk having Mary do her party trick on her..."

"I'll do it," Jason said quickly.

*  *  *

The jackal look at the job order one final time, triple-checking the address.  Booting the wrong door in was not a mistake he intended to repeat.  With a crash, he leapt into the hallway, one hand glowing with a stun spell, the other clutching his broadsword in readiness for the execution.

Jason's ears swivelled, listening for any noise.  Usually kicking a door down provoked angry reactions from the occupant.  The lights were certainly on...

With a growing sense of unease, the incubus prowled the house, every nerve on edge, scanning for his opponent's mind.  As a warrior gone rogue, his target was probably stalking him in the same way.  He would only get one chance.

With another leap, Jason kicked down the door and flew into the bedroom.  Gert the Ripper lay on the floor, a mace in hand.  Her head was missing.

A sudden crash from behind made the jackal spin around.   "BLACK RIDERS!  FREEZE!" a voice yelled.  Jason dropped the sword.

[ZacAttac21]

A mysterious client and mysterious staged bounties. Coincidence? I wonder...

I suppose it's worth noting that Ben is willing to do executions... but only under very specific (and very rare) conditions. (For starters, no public executions and no beheadings...)

[Tapewolf]

A mysterious client and mysterious staged bounties. Coincidence? I wonder...

I suppose it's worth noting that Ben is willing to do executions... but only under very specific (and very rare) conditions. (For starters, no public executions and no beheadings...)

Out of interest, what method would he use?  Appalling as it is, beheading was traditionally held to be the more merciful option, and in certain parts of medieval Europe was generally reserved for the nobility.

[ZacAttac21]

I'm not entirely sure. Surely with magic there must be SOME way to do it cleanly and instantly. He would always use a spell to anesthetize them first, of course. Then, maybe use a laser spell to cut the spine at the neck, without chopping the head completely off? He knows an x-ray vision spell, so he could pinpoint it.

[Tapewolf]

I'm not entirely sure. Surely with magic there must be SOME way to do it cleanly and instantly. He would always use a spell to anesthetize them first, of course. Then, maybe use a laser spell to cut the spine at the neck, without chopping the head completely off? He knows an x-ray vision spell, so he could pinpoint it.

True.  I tend to disregard death spells because they kind of take the fun out of it.  AFAIK the only one we've seen canonically is the one Dark Pegasus and Kria used, and it's not something they tend to fling around much either.  For that matter there's cheap off-the-shelf enchanted clothing that can defend against it.

If Daryil did pass a death sentence for soul-stealing, that would likely be done by a death spell, unless the condemned person specifically opted for another means of death.  But Daryil is extraordinarily powerful, while Ben is likely to be a bit of a weakling owing to the fact that he's a convert rather than a true-born 'Cubi.

[ZacAttac21]

True.  I tend to disregard death spells because they kind of take the fun out of it.  AFAIK the only one we've seen canonically is the one Dark Pegasus and Kria used, and it's not something they tend to fling around much either.  For that matter there's cheap off-the-shelf enchanted clothing that can defend against it.

If Daryil did pass a death sentence for soul-stealing, that would likely be done by a death spell, unless the condemned person specifically opted for another means of death.  But Daryil is extraordinarily powerful, while Ben is likely to be a bit of a weakling owing to the fact that he's a convert rather than a true-born 'Cubi.

That was a death spell? I always thought it was just some kind of magic laser beam.

[Tapewolf]

That was a death spell? I always thought it was just some kind of magic laser beam.

Here's the description of the spell DP used - Kria may have been using a slightly different one:
"It's basically a two-fold spell. One part of the spell will pretty much negate the very magic that holds an Undead together so-to-speak and releases the soul from the body, the other half is what tends to reduce the body to a cinder.  Without the magics that hold the Undead together, the body is a lot more vulnerable to being disintigrated.  On the flipside, casting this spell on a living body will make it impossible for said individual to become Undead...though odds are there wouldn't be enough left to go Undead anyways...but just saying."

Either way, things get a little messy when ranged death spells are involved.  Imagine if Sven could do this easily?  Or Keaton?  It'd be a massacre.  Bandits?  Instead of holding people up you could just sweep the area and loot the bodies.  What if an adventurer hits the wrong person?  Even an arrow or a crossbow bolt gone stray is likely to leave a survivable injury, but something that kills you on contact won't be.

[ZacAttac21]

That was a death spell? I always thought it was just some kind of magic laser beam.

Here's the description of the spell DP used - Kria may have been using a slightly different one:
"It's basically a two-fold spell. One part of the spell will pretty much negate the very magic that holds an Undead together so-to-speak and releases the soul from the body, the other half is what tends to reduce the body to a cinder.  Without the magics that hold the Undead together, the body is a lot more vulnerable to being disintigrated.  On the flipside, casting this spell on a living body will make it impossible for said individual to become Undead...though odds are there wouldn't be enough left to go Undead anyways...but just saying."

Either way, things get a little messy when ranged death spells are involved.  Imagine if Sven could do this easily?  Or Keaton?  It'd be a massacre.  Bandits?  Instead of holding people up you could just sweep the area and loot the bodies.  What if an adventurer hits the wrong person?  Even an arrow or a crossbow bolt gone stray is likely to leave a survivable injury, but something that kills you on contact won't be.

Huh. Where did you find that description? Regardless, what Ben would use wouldn't be on that level. I'm talking something maybe a bit less powerful than the blaster lasers you see in Star Wars. A magic bullet, as it were.

[Tapewolf]

Huh. Where did you find that description? Regardless, what Ben would use wouldn't be on that level. I'm talking something maybe a bit less powerful than the blaster lasers you see in Star Wars. A magic bullet, as it were.

http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,4803.msg206770.html#msg206770

[Tapewolf]

(With help from Sofox)

Chapter 5

"You know, we could just have ordered this stuff online," Jakob said, pushing the trolley through the supermarket.

"That's boring," Daryil said.  "It's been years since I went shopping like this!  I wanted a change."

"Hey guys," Simeon said, rushing around the corner and throwing a loaf of bread into the basket.  "You've got to see this!"

Jakob's eyes widened slightly, but he'd been around Daryil long enough to take this sort of thing in his stride.  Daryil leaned against the end of the breakfast cereal aisle and watched intently.
In front of them, a mouse with head-wings and a monk's cloak stood on top of the cheese counter.  Stunned security guards lay nearby, and the incubus was talking earnestly to a dozen whole salmon lying on the top of the display.  One of them was facing backwards.

"This wine shall be my blood," the mouse declaimed.  "This bread shall be my body!  This butter shall be my brain..."

"Well," Simeon remarked.  "This is different.  Usually it'd be Daryil doing that."

"It ISN'T you, is it?" Jakob asked suspiciously.  "I know your tricks with avatar projections."

"Not this time," Daryil said.  "I think they're of Dimanika's clan.  Getting to see it in person makes quite a change."

"HALT!" a voice demanded, and an oxen adventurer strode into view.  "Surrender and face justice, monster!"

"Dammit, Judas!" the Dimanika said, picking up the backwards fish.  "You weren't supposed to betray me until after our little kiss!"

Daryil watched with interest as the salmon flew through the air and struck the newcomer in the face.  As his assailant flailed to knock the fish away, the mouse teleported and was gone.

"You shall pay for your evil crimes, monster!" the Being snarled, drawing his sword and holding it in front of Daryil's face.

"I don't think I've done any evil crimes for at least a millenium," Daryil said.  "That's far outside the statute of limitations, and besides, I'm trying to make amends for my wicked youth."

"Is it only EVIL crimes you're interested in?" Jakob asked casually, raising his hands above his head.

"What do you mean, monster?" the ox demanded, eyes narrowing.

"Well, you can have evil crimes, and non-evil crimes.  And evil things that aren't crimes.  For instance, murder or stealing someones soul is an evil crime," Daryil said.  "Evicting a little old lady is evil but not a crime."

"Nonsense!  All crimes are evil!"

"What about home taping?" Simeon asked.  "Copying music to give to someone else?  Downloading movies?  Heck, overthrowing a vicious tyrant is treason... but it's not evil, surely!"

"Shut up!  I shall end you!  All of you!"

"That in itself would be an evil crime," Jakob pointed out.

"Worse than that, they are under my protection," Daryil said.  "If you insist on harming my child or my lover, I shall do something extremely regrettable to you."

"Would that be an evil crime?" Simeon asked.

"More like evil justice," Daryil said.  "Listen, kid.  We didn't have anything to do with this.  If you want to arrest us anyway, we'll come quietly.  But please put that sword away before the King's guards shoot you for attempting a racial murder."

*  *  *

"Ben, Daniel..." Lady Featherstone said, as they entered the thick of the forest.  "Forgive me if this is too personal, but I can't help noticing that your fur is rather... well, vivid for Beings."

"My parents were of Angel blood," Ben shrugged.  "I wasn't born with wings, though.  Sometimes I regret that.  I don't have an Angel's strength either, but I do seem to have stopped ageing."

"I also have Creature ancestry," Daniel said.  "But to be honest, I'm not sure it's your business, my lady.  We're here to escort you through the forest.  So long as we're competent at that job, does it really matter what we are?"

"It would reassure me to know that you are all Beings..."

"Not a fan of Creatures, are we, miss?"  Roger blurted out.  Ben gave him a black look.

"As it happens I am not," the oppossum said curtly.  "Many of my ancestors were slain by Demons hoping to claim the realm, or simply destroy it because it was there."

"Those are old grievances," Daniel said.  "Beings and Creatures get on a lot better nowadays.  In some ways that's a problem because there's less need for..."

"Oi," a voice shouted.  "Hands up, and give us the money."

Six figures emerged from behind a nearby tree.

"What money?" Daniel asked politely.

"Gold, jewels, credit cards, cell phones... any other valuables," the bandit said.

"Sorry, not interested," the Doberman replied.  The bandit bristled.

"Son, I'm asking you nicely," he said.  "But we can just as easily kill you and steal your shit."

"That would be a felony murder, though." Daniel said.  "You'd hang."

"Only if there are witnesses.  Besides, you'd still be dead," the bandit pointed out.  "Is it worth dying for a handful of valuables?"

"I'd consider that question yourself," Daniel retorted, a broadsword appearing in his hands.  "After all, killing YOU will be self-defence."

The Being took a step back.  "We got trouble, lads!" he called.

Ben, Daniel and Roger surrounded their charge as a five more bandits appeared.  Daniel jumped sideways and struck one in the head with his blade.  Ben's eyes glowed and an evil expression flowed across his features.  He kicked the bandit leader's legs out from under him and crouched down.

"You have but one chance to live," he sneered, electricity flowing between his two hands, about a foot from the man's muzzle.  "You don't know the power of the light side!"

"Someone kill this fool..." the leader shouted, ending in a scream as Ben zapped him in the face.

"If you will not be turned... then you will be destroyed!" the fox crowed, and gave him another dose.  The Being went limp.

Meanwhile, Roger was sparring with a large, heavily-built ursine, almost certainly a former adventurer.  He blocked an axe strike with his own sword, but then tripped.  Grinning at the prospect of an easy victory, the bear raised his axe again, but was swiftly felled by a blast of magic from Ben's stun-stick.

"Your leader is out of the fight," Ben called loudly.  "Throw down your weapons and we'll let you go."

"Your leader is out of it too," a female quoll sneered.  Ben's mouth dropped open slightly as he saw that Lady Featherstone was held captive by the quoll's thick arm, a blade held steadily at her throat.

"So... throw down YOUR weapons," she demanded.  "Or you get to find out how much blood your girlfriend contains."

Ben stared at Daniel, who glanced back at him with an expression of resignation.

"If she dies, we'll have failed," the Doberman sighed.  "Very well."  He dropped his weapon, as did Ben.

"Excellent," the quoll smiled.  Then her skull was cloven by Roger's broadsword, death claiming her with the happy expression still gracing her features.

"I'll 'ave that," Roger said, taking firm hold of the oppossom.  Ben and Daniel had regained their weapons and re-entered the fray.

Things took a turn for the worse as the enraged bandits struggled to avenge their comrade.  Daniel fought a pitched battle with another dog, clearly an expert swordsman gone rogue.  Steel rang and the Doberman was gradually pushed back, fur binding with sweat and blood flowing freely from a fresh cut on one of his arms.  A scream distracted his opponent for a moment and Daniel took full advantage.  The alsatian's face took an expression of fear as the sword was knocked from his grasp.
With a savage expression, the blue Doberman's muscles rippled as the broadsword made its fatal sweep.  There was a sickening gurgle and the alsatian's head tumbled free of his shoulders, coming to rest a few feet across the forest floor.  His body collapsed too, spasming in a way that made Daniel wince, despite all his years as an executioner.

"Who else is tired of having a head?" he snarled.  The answer came in the form of several soft, metallic noises as their remaining opponents broke, flinging their weapons aside and fleeing into the woods as fast as they could.

*  *  *

"I am here to claim the bounty for the arrest of these three felons," the adventurer said, approaching the commander of the guild hall.

"Very well," Olaf said, taking three cards from the waiting ox.  The wolf-giraffe glanced at them for a second, taking in the mugshots and ID numbers assigned during arrest.

Suddenly he froze.  "Just forget it, son," he said quietly, dropping the cards onto his desk and shuffling them straight with a steel-gauntleted hand.

"Why?" the adventurer demanded.

"You're better off not knowing," the commander said.  "I'm surprised you managed to arrest them at all."

"Dangerous, then?  The bounties must be quite large!"

"They are," Olaf said.  "But I suggest you go home and try to forget this happened."

"So you can claim the bounties yourself?  Don't be ridiculous!"

"If you insist, I can run them through the computer," Olaf smiled toothily.  "But it's a very bad idea."

"I do so insist."

"I'm beginning to see how this happened," Olaf muttered.  "Very well.  First up... Jakob Pettersohn.  I must say, I'm very relieved you brought him in alive.  You dodged a bullet there.  Or more likely, a guillotine."

"Explain yourself."

"Well, firstly, Jakob is my dad," Olaf said, and a katana was in his hands, dancing through the air, inches away from the adventurer's neck.  "And if you harmed a hair on his head, I would be honour-bound to strike off yours where you stand." The sword vanished in a flash of purple light.

"Secondly, the bounty on Jakob has been taken out by Lord Daryil.  Same goes for Simeon."

"And the fox-hybrid?"

"Oh, Lord Daryil took the bounty out on himself," Olaf said.  "You're pitting your wits against a four thousand year old practical joker.  Are you sure you wish to go down this rabbit-hole?"

"Enough of your tricks, Creature!"

"It's not my trick, it's Daryil's," Olaf said, typing something.  "If I press RETURN now, the claim will go through.  Together, it will amount to 25 million gold dollars."

"Great gods!  I'll be able to retire!  Buy an island!"

"You'll be bankrupt," Olaf said.  "The money goes the other way.  Minus five million for Jakob, minus five million for Simeon, and minus fifteen million for Daryil.  I hope you have rich parents."

"But this is a flagrant abuse of the adventuring system!  How in the world can you have a negative bounty?"

"Well, it's Daryil. He tends to find ways of doing things that no-one else has thought of.  I can kind of see where he's coming from - being arrested on a false charge is a hassle and he deserves compensation."

"This is outright theft!  I'll be ruined!"

"Only if you actually go through with the bounty claim," Olaf reminded him, a steel-clad finger hovering over the RETURN key.

The adventurer ground his teeth. "Then forget it.  Do whatever you want with them, I don't care."  Turning, he walked to the exit grumbling.  At the door he turned around and snarled at the commander.  "Twisting the legal system to take money from hard working adventurers!  What he's done is completely evil!"

"Yes," responded Olaf to the departing adventurer, "But it isn't a crime."

[ZacAttac21]

Ahahahahaha, this is my favorite chapter! Even without Ben quoting Star Wars, it's full of so much Daryil-win!

...Or should I say "Dar-win"?

[TruthQuest]

Olaf is His SON? Just three questions,

Who's the mom?

When did it happen?

Does Niall get on well with him?

[Merlin]

When Yak was getting hit on by Quill in DMFA, I made a fancharacter called Olaf who was their illegitimate lovechild

Not sure how he gets on with Niall, but I assume well, he's a pretty chill dude normally (for an adventurer)

[Tapewolf]

Olaf is His SON? Just three questions,

Who's the mom?

When did it happen?

Does Niall get on well with him?

Or to put what Merlin has said in a slightly more visual form:

http://missmab.com/Comics/Vol_1260.php

http://www.furaffinity.net/view/11857607/

...as for when, probably some time after DMFA canon.  Presumably after Fa'Lina is gone.

Niall and Olaf get on okay, but they don't see each other all that much, being different clans and all.

[TruthQuest]

To both Tapewolf and Merlin, thank you, that does clear things up a bit.

[Tapewolf]

I shall have to mark these in my calendar.  I keep forgetting to post them.

Chapter 6

"Oh no," Fairwater said.  "Not YOU..."

"Good day, your Majesty," Jason said, as he was led into the interview room by a pair of Demons in motorcycle gear.  His wrists were bound in enchanted bracers and he had been stripped of his weapons.

"Preliminary interview," Fairwater said, talking to a microphone on the desk.  "10:45, Monday the 22nd of June, 2170.  Jason Da'Real... you stand accused of the capital murder of Gertrude Orlock," he continued unhappily.

"These proceedings are being recorded and videotaped, and anything you say may be presented as evidence at your trial.  If found guilty, your head will be forfeit.  Even Daryil does not like members of his clan committing murders, so I hope you have a VERY good reason for your actions."

"Daryil does not like public executions either, your Majesty," Jason said.

"Your death - should it happen - will be a private guillotining," Fairwater informed him.  "In deference to the alliance between our clans."

"I see," Jason said, grimmacing.

"Now, Jason... you, an incubus, are accused of breaking into the house of the Being, Gertrude Orlock, and beheading her," Fairwater said, eyes narrowing.  "What do you say to this charge?"

Jason swallowed, sipped from a glass of water and leaned forwards.  "Your majesty, I admit that I was going to kill Ms. Orlock.  However, I did not.  Someone else got there first."

"A Creature intending to kill a Being is also a serious crime," the King said.  "Though at least it takes the unpleasantness of an execution off the table.  Unless it turns out you were the killer, of course.  Then it will put YOU on the table... of the guillotine."

"If I have to die, I would rather die on my feet, majesty," Jason said.

"A warrior's death," Fairwater nodded.  "Very noble of you.  Much as I hope your life is spared, I can allow your hypothetical execution to be a stand-up beheading if you so wish."

"Thanks.  It all comes down to intent, though," Jason said.  "As I understand it, the death penalty applies only where a member of race A murders someone of race B for no good reason.  Is that not so, your majesty?"

"That is correct," Fairwater agreed.  "For example, when the justification is that they were a member of race B and therefore evil, or that race B is inferior and therefore disposable."

"I am not sure if I can prove I didn't kill her," Jason admitted, taking his wallet from a tray of his belongings and removing a folded slip of paper from it. "I suppose you could examine my sword for recent use, though I might have used my wing-tentacles...  Either way, I can certainly prove my motive for trying."

"Does this count as a good reason for my actions?" he asked, as the King studied the printout Steve had given him.

"Shit, shit, shit." the Doberman said.  "Another one!"

"Another what, your majesty...?" Jason looked worried.

"Blue-on-blue."

The jackal's wings fanned out.  "Are you telling me that my target was also an adventurer?!"

"Indeed.  Usually when an adventurer is murdered inside the city it's a revenge motive.  After all, you are a Creature.  Perhaps she slew one of your kin or friends.  And so, here you come... acting on your own to repay the favour.  Tit-for-tat revenge killings only widen into a cycle of murders... and executions.  If any response is called for, it MUST happen through the proper channels.  I will NOT tolerate vigilante murders in my cities!

"But this... gods, dammit!  Jason, a number of adventurers have been killed in quick succession.  The heads are all missing, most likely taken for proof when claiming the bounty.  It can be no coincidence."

Fairwater paused for a second, and then leaned forwards over the microphone.  "Let the record state that Jason Da'Real appears to have been carrying out his official duties as a member of Northwood adventuring guild.  This is to be confirmed shortly, but unless I learn otherwise from his guildmaster, Jason of Daryil Clan has no case to answer.  This interview is at an end."

Fairwater sat in silence for a few moments.  Jason moved to get up but the King's hand tapped his lower arm to indicate that he should remain.

"We are no longer rolling, Majesty," a voice piped up from the talkback circuit.  "Sound and vision both off."

"Thank you," the King said, and steepled his hands, leaning across the table towards the waiting jackal.

"Right," he said quietly.  "Off the record, this is what I would like you to do, Jason.  First I must check with your guild and confirm this job is genuine, and then sign your release forms.  You will be returned to the holding cell until then.  Once you are free to go, I would like you to return immediately to your guild.
"There, you should inform your commander of what I have just told you.  Do this face-to-face and in private.  Tell no-one else.  I want to know exactly where this bounty came from, who requested it and most importantly, where the money for the bounty is actually coming from.  Return here with your findings.  I will give you a royal warrant to aid in this mission.  And Jason..."

"Yes, O King?"

"Watch your back.  There may very well be one of these bounties for you."

*  *  *

"That was a near thing," the oppossom said, frowning.  "I am not entirely sure how to rate your performance.  Ideally they should never have been allowed that close to me!"

"I agree it could have been better," Daniel said, healing the cut on his arm with a spell.  "But it could also have been far worse."

"You surrendered!" Lady Featherstone retorted.  "What kind of bodyguards are you?!"

"The kind that knows when their companion is about to do a sneak attack," Ben said quietly.  "Though I had hoped Roger would use the flat of his blade, not the edge.  Still, if you didn't spot that his fall was a feint, perhaps we are better at this than you give us credit for.  Either way.  You are alive and completely unharmed," the fox pointed out.  "The rest of us are worse for wear, but still alive and kicking.  We guarded your body from harm and that's what matters in the end."

"That is true," Featherstone conceded.  "Though I hope things go more smoothly next time.  Anyway.  Talking of alive and kicking, are you going to do justice upon the survivors now?"

"What?!"  Daniel gawked.  "You want to slay them too?  Unarmed?!"

"Losing heart, Daniel?  After that fine kill you made earlier?" Featherstone said, looking surprised.

"I hadn't really intended to do that all," Daniel said, gazing sadly at the headless corpse.  "I lost my temper.  This should never have happened."

"Are you kidding?!" Roger exclaimed.  "That was SKILL!  Did you see how the other two ran afterwards?!"

"Whatever the case, that still leaves the bear and the leader," Featherstone pointed out, gesturing at the two unconscious forms.  "Hanging or beheading?"

"Neither," Ben said firmly.

"Any other suggestions?  From someone less pacifistic?"

"He's right, though," Daniel said.  "Banditry is not a capital crime in Marwood - it only becomes so if someone is killed during the robbery.  Those we have slain just now were clear-cut self-defence, but killing these two while they're helpless?  Legally, that's murder."

"Realistically, nobody will give two shits about a pair of failed bandits," Roger pointed out, eyeing the unconscious bear with a malicious expression.

"True," Ben sighed, glancing back at Daniel.  "Even if they did, we were attacked.  Given the circumstances, we'd be unlikely to hang.  We might even get away with a fine.... as Roger said, nobody loves bandits.  But we'd still risk arrest and cooling our heels in a holding cell while our trial is being arranged.  How would that benefit your quest, lady?"

"Clearly Roger thinks the risk is worth it," the oppossom said, pointing at something behind them.

Daniel and Ben turned, and expressions of fury crossed their faces.  While they had been talking, their leopard companion had produced a length of rope from somewhere and hoisted the bear a foot off the ground as they watched.  The unfortunate Being kicked energetically in a futile attempt to prevent the noose from strangling his life away.

Ben's face darkened and he drew his sword.  Pushing Roger aside with a strength that belied his lithe frame, he drew the sword back for a side-stroke.  The blade sang in his hand and moments later the bandit had dropped to the ground, wheezing and gasping for breath.

"If you must teach him a lesson, at least make it one he can learn from," the fox said.  "Say, removing a hand or a couple of fingers.  But he hasn't harmed us enough to merit an execution."

"Works for me," Lady Featherstone said, with an approving glance.

*  *  *

"Oh no," Fairwater said.  "Not YOU..."

"Good day, your Majesty," Daryil said, as he was led into the interview room by a pair of Demons in motorcycle gear, who eyed him warily as though he was a bomb that might explode any moment.  His wrists were bound in enchanted bracers, but the usual red glow kept flashing to blue twice a second, giving the effect of the lights on top of a police car.

"Is this some kind of joke?"  the King sighed.

"Not mine," Daryil said brightly.  "Some adventurer with more balls than brains arrested us.  There was a Dimanika causing a public nuisance in the supermarket.  Assault too, I guess.  He disappeared and we took the rap for it.  Should be on CCTV."

"'Us' being you and Jakob?"

"Me, Jakob and Simeon," Daryil said.  "You know, you have laws against murdering people just because they are 'Cubi... does that extend to arresting people too?"

"No, but maybe it should," Fairwater sighed, reading the charge sheet.  "Very well.  I'll send a complaint to Dimanika once the CCTV footage arrives.  I'm not sure why this was brought to my attention at all.  As you say, multiple counts of assault, public nuisance, damaging property... these are not capital crimes that require my involvement."

"Can we go, then?" Daryil asked.

"Yes.  You are a head of state, Jakob a diplomat.  Simeon... doesn't have such protections but his being your consort would make things awkward.  Besides," he gave a brittle smile.  "With powers like yours, there's not a lot I can do about it if you do mean me ill."

"Actually..." Daryil said, looking thoughtful.

"What?" The King looked alarmed.

"Could you guillotine me anyway?" Daryil asked, hopefully.

"What?!"

"Go on... chop my head off!  It'll be fun!"

The guards looked at each other.

"It's just an avatar," Daryil said, lying on the interview table and staring down into the waste-paper basket.  "Please...?"

"Absolutely not!" the Doberman looked appalled.  "Execution is a deterrent and the ultimate punishment for the most serious of crimes!  It is not some kind of cheap thrill for sickos!"

"Spoilsport!"  Daryil pouted.

"Enough of this," Fairwater called.  "Guards, release Lord Daryil and his companions."

"Guys, you have katanas,"  Daryil said suddenly.  "How much do I have to bribe you to..."

"NO!" Fairwater shouted.  "Do not listen to him!  Get him out of here!"

"Okay, okay," Daryil said.  "I'll get Nigel to kill me later.  Come on, guys... follow me!"

He promptly phased through the wall.