Michael healed everyone before they did anything else. He’d taken the worst damage in the initial ambush, but no one was free of cuts and bruises except for Lance, who’d managed to avoid getting hurt. Maybe he’d learned a bit of caution from their fight to seal the rift.

Marcus was crouched, going through the man’s things and sorting them to the side of the corpse. He didn’t seem to have any personal effects, though perhaps he lost them in their previous confrontation. He had been holding what appeared to be some kind of explosive when he'd been killed. Marcus was touching the man’s gloves and frowning.

“These feel… odd.”

Michael looked at them, and noticed some gold lettering floating around them. He crouched closer and grabbed the bounty hunter’s cooling hand. The gloves were dark brow and well worn.

“They’re titled,” he said as the words began to coalesce around them.

Titles

Gloves of the Hunter

Grants:

Middling reaction to the arms of their wearer

Michael described them to the others.

“If they fit, I call dibs,” said Marcus as he slipped them onto his hands, flexing the leather a bit and smiling. “And would you look at that,” he said with a smile. “Anything else glowing on him?”

Michael looked the man over again focusing on divining anything he could. “Not picking up anything else titled, but…” he reached out and squeezed the longcoat between his fingers. “This is not a normal coat. There are a few spots with cuts through it, but his chestplate is more damaged than it is.”

“Let me see,” said Lance, coming closer to the corpse and looking at it. “It’s from a titled beast. Some kind of serpent I’d guess. Probably about as durable as my gloves.

Michael looked at the man again. He was long and lean and his coat fit him near perfectly.

“Well Ollie, how do you feel about a dead man’s coat?” he asked him with a smile.

“Great, long as it keep me alive,” he said.

Once they were done stripping the corpse they had the titled gloves, the coat, a hefty handful of coin and two daggers that seemed to have been partially forged from parts of titled beasts as well, though they had already lost a lot of their edge and had a number of chips from the fight. They dragged the corpse a short way from the road and buried it in a shallow grave, though before any dirt had fallen on it, Francesa drove a dagger through his heart for good measure. It seemed excessive, but then she'd been right the first time. Michael said a quick prayer for the man when they were done. He was a bounty hunter, not a villain or a hero, just a neutral force. Michael knew nothing about his history or reasons for doing what he was doing, but the prayer seemed right.

“Why didn’t we see more titled items in Stent?” Davi asked Lance as they walked.

“Stent controls them heavily. Most are family heirlooms that have extensive records. There are very few frontline soldiers who have access to them, much less penitents.”

“Any idea how that guy was so strong?” asked Pyotr. “He was near as fast as Bayle I think. He didn’t have any heir titles did he?”

Michael shook his head. “None that I saw, but I was only able to get a very brief glance before he rushed us the first time.”

“There are a few people like him,” said Lance as they walked. “Mercenaries, bounty hunters, those kinds of people. Their deeds are so focused on the kind of work they do that as long as they keep doing them and stay alive they keep growing. Still, he was a bit of a freak even based on what I’ve heard of.”

“I am just glad we saw the body this time,” said Francesca.

Davi chuckled.

Michael looked over at Ollie who was wearing his new coat over his boiled leather armor. It fit well. The length was good, and Clint had been wider than him by a bit so it even fit well over his armor.

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“How’s it feel?” asked Michael.

“Amazing.”

“Like you're a joey in a pouch?”

“Fuck you... But yes. It’s the nicest jacket I’ve ever owned.”

Michael chuckled, and then stopped when he heard what sounded like a thunderclap up ahead of them.

They all flinched as a group and reached for their weapons. They were on a wide plane , but sat at the bottom of a hill so couldn’t get a good view of what was ahead. They all very slowly made their way to the top of the hill.

Less than a mile ahead of them was a large herd of what seemed to be pure-white and pure-black horses. Most of them were milling about, but there were at least a half dozen others that were arrayed in front of each other.

They closed in a bit more and as they did they started to get a better idea of what was happening.

The horses all had horns. Long and powerful like lances that extended from the center of their heads. The ones that were separate for the others were all squaring off with one another. They were striking and parrying with their horns, each searching for openings as they stabbed and struck out at one another. Silver blood poured from wounds on several of them, and there were at least a dozen members of the herd that had bled out onto the harsh earth beneath them. Michael noticed that beneath the dead unicorns, or anywhere that their blood had pooled, a number of flowers had started to bloom.

Two of them charged at one another from a great distance, their horns aimed low at one another. They met one another at full gallop, and their horns struck one another’s skulls resulting in the same thunder-like sound that had first alerted Michael to their presence.

“Beautiful creatures,” said Lance as he looked at them admiringly. “I can only imagine how it would feel to ride one of them.”

“I can’t say I expected unicorns,” said Pyotr.

“You don’t have them on your world?” asked Lance.

“We have stories about them, but they’re not real to us, no.”

“There are only very small herds in some parts of Stent,” said Lance.

“I thought Stent purged anything like them?” asked Davi.

“No, we only purge things that are dangerous,” responded Lance.

As if to punctuate what he said one of the Unicorns let out a pained whinny as it was disemboweled by its rival.

“They seem dangerous to me,” said Davi, frowning.

“Well, just during their mating season,” said Lance. “I think the main reason we haven’t purged them though is because we’re still hoping to make them rideable.”

“Ah, Stent keeping something around in case they can use

it. Not a big surprise,” said Francesca.

“No one’s saddled one of those things before?” asked Michael.

“Well… women have ridden them. They don’t seem to take to male riders for some reason though. They absolutely refuse it. Even the women they let ride them are few and far between though. My grandmother apparently rode one for a time in her youth when she was fostered in Old Hume.”

“I’m guessing we should take the long way around them?” asked Marcus.

“Definitely,” replied Lance. “The males will almost certainly attack us on sight if we’re not careful.”

Marcus nodded, and they started moving south, trying to put a good amount of distance between themselves and the herd. There wouldn’t be a lot of cover to take with the large plains that surrounded them, so they wanted to make absolutely certain they wouldn’t be spending all day trying to survive jousting unicorns. They would occasionally jump at the thunderclaps of their fighting, but otherwise they went unnoticed.

They made camp that night behind a stony outcropping and decided to avoid making a fire, unsure of if any more bounty hunters may be coming their way. Luckily, there was a warm summer breeze which was very welcome after what they’d been through to close the rift. Michael took the first shift and after some time, Lance woke up and sat next to him. They sat in silence for some time before Lance spoke.

“I’m going to leave,” he said. looking at him with certainty in his eyes.

“Where are you going?” asked Michael.

“Old Hume. I’d not thought about it in some time, but I have some cousins there. My grandparents were very close to that side of the family, and I think they’d allow me to stay with them. They’re always looking for soldiers and mercenaries to help with their rifts, and now that I have experience with them, I think I can help.”

“They wouldn’t just send you back to Stent in chains?”

He shook his head. “No. They have strict rules about that. They even allow takers to live there freely… as long as they pay them one hundred gold pieces.”

“And if they don’t?”

“Indentured servitude.”

Michael frowned. He’d still been considering making his way there at some point. It seemed like the kind of place he could make a real impact. Though maybe there would be another way. He wouldn’t want to leave his friends to go there anyway. Besides which the gods seemed to be pulling him toward Swandia anyway.

“Do you think you could get there safely?”

“I’m not sure… but I feel like I need to try. I don’t want to be a mercenary, a sellsword. I need a country to serve, a place to belong to….a family. I’ve been thinking about it a lot. I also… can’t be around all of you. I understand why you did what you did, but sometimes I find my hand going to my sword hilt when I look at you.”

Michael nodded. “I can’t stop you from leaving, but if this is what you're settled on, I hope that you’ll be careful. You know a lot more about this world than I do, but don’t assume you know everything.”

He nodded. “After the last few months, I know I have a lot to learn.”

They sat there in silence for a few more moments and then a dark shape started to approach the camp.

Lance started to draw his sword, but Michael held out a hand to stop him, he looked at him in confusion and then Davi and Francesca got close enough for them to see.

Davi and Michael shared a wink, and Francesca boldly walked back to her bedroll without a hint of shame or embarrassment, which Michael respected.

Lance shook his head. “Wow… I had no idea.”

Michael looked at him with a frown. “Are you sure you’ll be okay on your own?”