By the time everyone had outfitted themselves for the hunt, it was getting close to midafternoon, a few clouds interrupting the unadulterated sunlight, but the temperature outside still warm. Knowing well that the chill could set in easily in the mountains, Lucien had elected to keep his cloak, and packed a spare, besides. Beneath it, he was now arrayed in light mail, shaped leather plates resting over particularly vulnerable spots. But anyone who hunted such dangerous prey knew that it wasnât much point to go fully-plated against a wyvernâto do so wouldnât turn away the claws much better than hardened leather would, and both were equally-useless against the teeth of such a creature, so it was worthwhile to preserve mobility.
Though he kept Everburn at his back, it was unlikely he would use it. The weapon of choice against wyverns was the spear, and with good reason. They had a deadly venom, enough that even accidentally ingesting a little of it could kill a person, and so it was best to stay as out of reach of the jaws as possible. Most parties would also have at least an archer or two, but for long-range endeavors, Lucien would be putting his trust in Aurora. Well⊠and himself, to an extent. His horse, currently outfitted with a hunting saddle, also had a set of javelins draped over its back, the throwing spears slotted into specially-designed leather holsters, three on the left and three on the right.
Prosper had opened up his armory to anyone who wanted to supplement their equipment, and so once everyone was arrayed as they saw fit, they exited to the bailey area, where a few of the other parties were already leading hounds from the kennels. The use of a dog was of course a considerable advantage, but only to a point. Actually finding a trail to follow was often the hardest part of the hunt aside from killing the wyvern itself.
Glancing across the bailey, Lucien caught sight of a surprise: someone he knew quite well, but would not have expected to see here. Raising a hand, he gestured an old comrade over.
Green eyes swung wide in surprise and a smile plastered the familiar face. The man waved back enthusiastically before leading his own Orlesian Courser over to where Lucien was. He was only an inch or so shorter than Lucien, though nearly as broad. His hair was a deep chocolate color, and it was clear he went a few days without shaving due to the stubble on his chin. He wore a purple cloak with black fur lining the hood and a silver olive branch broach, though a pair of longswords rested on his back, a sign that this man was a soldier. Indeed, when he reached to grasp Lucien's hands, the gleam of plate reflected the white snow indicating that the man was and most likely still currently a Chevalier.
"Commander Lucien Drakon, as I live and breathe!" the man said excitedly, showing all of his teeth in a wide grin. "We had heard of your exoneration, and had I been able, I would have been present at your trial," the man said, his smile flickering a bit before it regained its strength. "I must apologize for that, my duties kept me away, however I am glad that it all worked out in the end." The man finished, just noticing he was still shaking Lucien's hands. He stopped and hesitated a moment, remembering himself before placing a closed fist on his chest and bowing deeply. "Your Highness," he added.
Rising, the infectious smile found his lips again. "It is a surprise to see you here, Commander. My darling Marcy will wish to speak to you before you leave, I am sure."
Lucien found himself smiling wider as well, though he rolled his eyes at his old friendâs choice of address. âDonât you start with the âYour Highnessâ business. Iâll never be free of it, otherwise.â He stepped back slightly once the other man actually let him go, angling himself so that those with him were more readily visible. âEveryone, this is Lieutenant MichaĂ«l BenoĂźt, Comte of something or other but mostly an enormous pain in the arse. MichaĂ«l, you know Rilien of course, but the young lady in the red cloak is Aurora Rose, and to my left is my lady Sophia Dumar. We were just about to head to the gates. Did you have a party assembled or would you like to join ours?â There would, of course, be time for better introductions later, but it would be rude to delay the start of the hunt any longer than they must. It wasn't likely to just start without them if they took a while, so it was better that they didn't keep everyone waiting.
Michaël laughed at that and nodded, "Do not let Marcy hear you say that, she is very particular with our titles. Lady Marceline, Comtesse of the West Banks, etcetera, etcetera," he said, throwing his hands up and swatting at the imaginary titles that floated around his head. "And that is Ser pain in the ass, Your Highness," He added with a laugh and a wink.
Turning toward Lucien's companions he respectfully nodded to them in turn. "Rilien, a pleasure to see you. Aurora," he said, but for Sophia, his bow was a bit deeper. "Lady Sophia. The Commander and you are the heart of many rumors in Orlais. I am sure that Marcy will wish to speak to you as well... My condolences," he said with a grin. Turning back to Lucien, Michaël nodded and shrugged. "I had hoped to take the beast down by myself, but I will not deny myself such fine company," he said.
And so it was decided. With MichaĂ«l mounted and joining the rest of the party, they headed towards the gate, where several other groups of would-be wyvern slayers had already assembled. Prosper himself had a party of but five, though the four hounds straining against their leads indicated that he planned to make up for it in canine tracking prowess. Most of the parties were honestly too large to be effective, but the majority of those out on this venture didnât take the hunting part all that seriously. It was, like many things, something to be seen doing, something one did to indulge a host or gain a few hoursâ company with the right person.
The guards cranked the gates open, and Prosperâs party moved out first, followed by Lucienâs, and then the rest. At this stage, there wasnât really much merit in taking one direction over another, so Lucien simply chose to angle off from the direction the Duke had taken, in hopes of finding what they were looking for to the west. The mountainside was partially forested, thick groves of trees interspersed with meadows and the occasional cave system.
âI should mention that one ought not to go anywhere near the wyvernâs jaws,â Lucien said, for the benefit of those who had either never been on a hunt like this or didnât know much about the beasts generally. âTheir saliva is highly toxic. Thereâs actually a hallucinogen made from but a drop of it, and some other things, but I donât recommend the experience. It kills if the alchemist isnât careful.â He shrugged slightly. âRilien⊠you did bring those antidotes, yes?â They wouldnât help if not immediately applied, but they were much better than none at all.
"Of course.â As likely the most experienced tracker in the group, Rilien kept his eyes predominantly fixed on the landscape. The snow would make things at once easier and more difficult: more difficult to move, or get a sense of which land formations would likely contain a den, but incidental traces of wyvern activity would be easier to spot carved into the melting frost. They werenât likely to run into anything this close to the chateau, of courseâisolated it might be, but it was still a hub of human activity, and therefore a wild animal that large would stay well away from it.
He turned his eyes for a moment to the clouds overhead. They werenât heavy enough to be snow-bearing, but that could change quickly, at this time of year. Still, it was yet warm, and at this temperature, they were more likely to be set upon by rain or sleet than snow proper.
"This place must be even more beautiful in the summer," Sophia mused, her eyes admittedly more on the sights than the trail. She was not particularly experienced in hunting, as her father had never had the time nor the interest, and so would be little help in tracking the beast. With Rilien leading the way it hardly mattered. Following Lucien's lead, she brought her sword along, but planned to leave it sheathed on her back, and she left the vast majority of her plate back at the castle. In her lap was currently an unloaded crossbow, the weapon she intended to use if they came across the wyvern. Sophia was no expert shot, but the crossbow was an easy weapon to use, and her target would be fairly large.
She urged her horse into a brief trot, slowing back down to a walk when she came alongside Michaël. "If I may... you are a chevalier, you said? You and Lucien served together?" They had been understandably brief in their introductions, but she found herself curious of what history they shared.
"A strange series of events that led to it, but yes. I am, and we did," Michaël answered easily. He bore a spear, along with his pair of swords at his back, as well as a number of javelins at his sides, same as Lucien's mount. Even he did not wish to get closer to the beast than was strictly necessary. Sensing they still had some tracking ahead of them, Michaël decided that it wouldn't hurt to speak more about it.
"My darling Marcy's father, Commander Lucas LĂ©cuyer at the time, was my first Commander in Val Royeaux. He did not enjoy the idea of his daughter fraternizing with one of his soldiers, but as I am sure you will find, the LĂ©cuyer women always get what they want," he said with a light chuckle. It seemed that laughter came easy to the man.
"When we were wed, I was transferred from Ser Lucas's command to avoid the inevitable rumors of favoritism to his son-in-law. The transfer of course led to me being put in Lucien's unit," he continued, throwing a glance over his shoulder at the man in question. A warm smile gleamed in his face, but it faded for a moment when he returned to Sophia. His words turned serious for a moment as he said, "It was because of him I was able to return home to my darling wife and son. Were I in another's unit, I am certain that I would not have been so fortunate. I owe him my life," he said, before his everlasting smile flickered again.
"A debt I still intend to repay one day," He added, this time looking at Lucien when he spoke.
Lucien, as was doubtless easily-anticipated by this point, looked vaguely uncomfortable with that idea, and he shrugged. âYes, well⊠I have no intention of collecting, so weâll see.â He adjusted his cloak to close a gap in the front, steering his horse with his legs, and then something seemed to occur to him. âHow is Pierre, by the way? He wasnât more than a couple of years old, last time I saw him. He must be, what⊠nine now? Somehow I suspect he favors his mother.â He remembered the child as being unusually solemn, for one so young. Very little fussing involved, and intently curious about his surroundings.
Michaël began to sigh, but eventually it morphed into a chuckle as he beamed. "Oh Pierre? He is an intelligent boy, and growing smarter with every passing day. Moreso than I was when I was his age," He said, the pride evident in his voice as he spoke. "And yes, he does take after his mother a great deal. You should see the spectacle when they argue. It is more akin to a debate than a spat, as neither raises their voice, and they present points and counterpoints--" Michaël cut himself off and shook his head before he ran a hand through his hair. It was clear the whole thing was far over his head.
"I fear that I am no longer raising a prospective chevalier," he added with a smiling sigh.
It was at about this point in the conversation that Rilien veered considerably to the left, assuming that the others would take notice of this and follow him. It wasnât much, but heâd just noted a disturbance in some of the surrounding snow. It had been partly covered over by a fresh coating, which meant it was relatively old, but it didnât look like anything a smaller creature like a deer could make, and so he led them into a grove, their horses slipping surefootedly through the trees, picking their way over underbrush and fallen branches.
"I think there is a den close by.â Pointing to a tree that had been stripped of all of its lower branches, he explained. "The needles of that tree and its bark are relatively soft. Considering the durability of a wyvernâs hide, it would not make for poor nest lining.â And of course there was no reason for a wyvern not to harvest from a tree close by.
Their exit from the grove put them in a more open area, the landscape gently rolling, as the spot rested in a valley area between two mountains. Lucien looked up for a moment, peering at the rapidly-darkening sky. âIt looks like we might be in for a change in the weather quite soon. We shouldnât tarry much longer. If we donât find the creature in another half-hour or so, we may well wish to head back anyway.â Theyâd been out for a considerable time already, and it would take them almost as much time to get back again if they had toâheâd rather not attempt to do so surrounded by heavy snowfall.
Almost as if to spite the thought, he heard a surprisingly-loud cracking sound, like a large branch being snapped in half. Pausing a moment, he cocked his head to the side, and a crunch followed, followed by a sort of wet sound that reminded him of a dog eating, only considerably louder. Reaching down, Lucien slid one of his javelins free of the straps that bound it to his horseâs equipment, and urged her forward with a gentle nudge of his knees. It sounded like it was coming from over the next hill.
The others close behind, he crested the slope, peering down into the recessed area below, an open field, by the looks of it. Where once the traces of wyvern presence had been slight, they were now prominentâlarge furrows dug into the snow, and large swaths of it stained pink. It was easy to see whyâa bull moose had been killed in the spot, and the snapping sound had definitely been the wyvern crunching on its bones. It was quite large even for its kin, and though not quite as big as a mature dragon, it had a tough enough hide to compensate, to say nothing of its claws and poison. Dark blue in color, it had yellow stripes originating at its nose that ran in parallel lines along either side of its spine. It did not appear to have noticed them yet, so Lucien signaled MichaĂ«l to his left and Rilien to the right. Given that Aurora and Sophia were equipped for range, he trusted them to position themselves accordingly. Dropping his reins, he nudged his horse forward, far enough away from the ranged hunters that anything thrown his way wouldnât risk them.
Unfortunately, that got him close enough that the wyvern heard him over the sound of its meal, and it turned towards him, delayed only for a moment as it processed what it saw, and then growling deep in its throat. Lucien hefted the javelin to shoulder level, steering the horse with his legs to begin circling, and spurring her into a charge as soon as the wyvern lunged into its own run. They were much faster in straight lines than if they had to turn, and so he angled away from its path, letting fly the javelin once heâd reached roughly forty five degrees to its left. The throw was decent, if not excellent, and landed solidly in the beastâs shoulder.
Though he kept Everburn at his back, it was unlikely he would use it. The weapon of choice against wyverns was the spear, and with good reason. They had a deadly venom, enough that even accidentally ingesting a little of it could kill a person, and so it was best to stay as out of reach of the jaws as possible. Most parties would also have at least an archer or two, but for long-range endeavors, Lucien would be putting his trust in Aurora. Well⊠and himself, to an extent. His horse, currently outfitted with a hunting saddle, also had a set of javelins draped over its back, the throwing spears slotted into specially-designed leather holsters, three on the left and three on the right.
Prosper had opened up his armory to anyone who wanted to supplement their equipment, and so once everyone was arrayed as they saw fit, they exited to the bailey area, where a few of the other parties were already leading hounds from the kennels. The use of a dog was of course a considerable advantage, but only to a point. Actually finding a trail to follow was often the hardest part of the hunt aside from killing the wyvern itself.
Glancing across the bailey, Lucien caught sight of a surprise: someone he knew quite well, but would not have expected to see here. Raising a hand, he gestured an old comrade over.
Green eyes swung wide in surprise and a smile plastered the familiar face. The man waved back enthusiastically before leading his own Orlesian Courser over to where Lucien was. He was only an inch or so shorter than Lucien, though nearly as broad. His hair was a deep chocolate color, and it was clear he went a few days without shaving due to the stubble on his chin. He wore a purple cloak with black fur lining the hood and a silver olive branch broach, though a pair of longswords rested on his back, a sign that this man was a soldier. Indeed, when he reached to grasp Lucien's hands, the gleam of plate reflected the white snow indicating that the man was and most likely still currently a Chevalier.
"Commander Lucien Drakon, as I live and breathe!" the man said excitedly, showing all of his teeth in a wide grin. "We had heard of your exoneration, and had I been able, I would have been present at your trial," the man said, his smile flickering a bit before it regained its strength. "I must apologize for that, my duties kept me away, however I am glad that it all worked out in the end." The man finished, just noticing he was still shaking Lucien's hands. He stopped and hesitated a moment, remembering himself before placing a closed fist on his chest and bowing deeply. "Your Highness," he added.
Rising, the infectious smile found his lips again. "It is a surprise to see you here, Commander. My darling Marcy will wish to speak to you before you leave, I am sure."
Lucien found himself smiling wider as well, though he rolled his eyes at his old friendâs choice of address. âDonât you start with the âYour Highnessâ business. Iâll never be free of it, otherwise.â He stepped back slightly once the other man actually let him go, angling himself so that those with him were more readily visible. âEveryone, this is Lieutenant MichaĂ«l BenoĂźt, Comte of something or other but mostly an enormous pain in the arse. MichaĂ«l, you know Rilien of course, but the young lady in the red cloak is Aurora Rose, and to my left is my lady Sophia Dumar. We were just about to head to the gates. Did you have a party assembled or would you like to join ours?â There would, of course, be time for better introductions later, but it would be rude to delay the start of the hunt any longer than they must. It wasn't likely to just start without them if they took a while, so it was better that they didn't keep everyone waiting.
Michaël laughed at that and nodded, "Do not let Marcy hear you say that, she is very particular with our titles. Lady Marceline, Comtesse of the West Banks, etcetera, etcetera," he said, throwing his hands up and swatting at the imaginary titles that floated around his head. "And that is Ser pain in the ass, Your Highness," He added with a laugh and a wink.
Turning toward Lucien's companions he respectfully nodded to them in turn. "Rilien, a pleasure to see you. Aurora," he said, but for Sophia, his bow was a bit deeper. "Lady Sophia. The Commander and you are the heart of many rumors in Orlais. I am sure that Marcy will wish to speak to you as well... My condolences," he said with a grin. Turning back to Lucien, Michaël nodded and shrugged. "I had hoped to take the beast down by myself, but I will not deny myself such fine company," he said.
And so it was decided. With MichaĂ«l mounted and joining the rest of the party, they headed towards the gate, where several other groups of would-be wyvern slayers had already assembled. Prosper himself had a party of but five, though the four hounds straining against their leads indicated that he planned to make up for it in canine tracking prowess. Most of the parties were honestly too large to be effective, but the majority of those out on this venture didnât take the hunting part all that seriously. It was, like many things, something to be seen doing, something one did to indulge a host or gain a few hoursâ company with the right person.
The guards cranked the gates open, and Prosperâs party moved out first, followed by Lucienâs, and then the rest. At this stage, there wasnât really much merit in taking one direction over another, so Lucien simply chose to angle off from the direction the Duke had taken, in hopes of finding what they were looking for to the west. The mountainside was partially forested, thick groves of trees interspersed with meadows and the occasional cave system.
âI should mention that one ought not to go anywhere near the wyvernâs jaws,â Lucien said, for the benefit of those who had either never been on a hunt like this or didnât know much about the beasts generally. âTheir saliva is highly toxic. Thereâs actually a hallucinogen made from but a drop of it, and some other things, but I donât recommend the experience. It kills if the alchemist isnât careful.â He shrugged slightly. âRilien⊠you did bring those antidotes, yes?â They wouldnât help if not immediately applied, but they were much better than none at all.
"Of course.â As likely the most experienced tracker in the group, Rilien kept his eyes predominantly fixed on the landscape. The snow would make things at once easier and more difficult: more difficult to move, or get a sense of which land formations would likely contain a den, but incidental traces of wyvern activity would be easier to spot carved into the melting frost. They werenât likely to run into anything this close to the chateau, of courseâisolated it might be, but it was still a hub of human activity, and therefore a wild animal that large would stay well away from it.
He turned his eyes for a moment to the clouds overhead. They werenât heavy enough to be snow-bearing, but that could change quickly, at this time of year. Still, it was yet warm, and at this temperature, they were more likely to be set upon by rain or sleet than snow proper.
"This place must be even more beautiful in the summer," Sophia mused, her eyes admittedly more on the sights than the trail. She was not particularly experienced in hunting, as her father had never had the time nor the interest, and so would be little help in tracking the beast. With Rilien leading the way it hardly mattered. Following Lucien's lead, she brought her sword along, but planned to leave it sheathed on her back, and she left the vast majority of her plate back at the castle. In her lap was currently an unloaded crossbow, the weapon she intended to use if they came across the wyvern. Sophia was no expert shot, but the crossbow was an easy weapon to use, and her target would be fairly large.
She urged her horse into a brief trot, slowing back down to a walk when she came alongside Michaël. "If I may... you are a chevalier, you said? You and Lucien served together?" They had been understandably brief in their introductions, but she found herself curious of what history they shared.
"A strange series of events that led to it, but yes. I am, and we did," Michaël answered easily. He bore a spear, along with his pair of swords at his back, as well as a number of javelins at his sides, same as Lucien's mount. Even he did not wish to get closer to the beast than was strictly necessary. Sensing they still had some tracking ahead of them, Michaël decided that it wouldn't hurt to speak more about it.
"My darling Marcy's father, Commander Lucas LĂ©cuyer at the time, was my first Commander in Val Royeaux. He did not enjoy the idea of his daughter fraternizing with one of his soldiers, but as I am sure you will find, the LĂ©cuyer women always get what they want," he said with a light chuckle. It seemed that laughter came easy to the man.
"When we were wed, I was transferred from Ser Lucas's command to avoid the inevitable rumors of favoritism to his son-in-law. The transfer of course led to me being put in Lucien's unit," he continued, throwing a glance over his shoulder at the man in question. A warm smile gleamed in his face, but it faded for a moment when he returned to Sophia. His words turned serious for a moment as he said, "It was because of him I was able to return home to my darling wife and son. Were I in another's unit, I am certain that I would not have been so fortunate. I owe him my life," he said, before his everlasting smile flickered again.
"A debt I still intend to repay one day," He added, this time looking at Lucien when he spoke.
Lucien, as was doubtless easily-anticipated by this point, looked vaguely uncomfortable with that idea, and he shrugged. âYes, well⊠I have no intention of collecting, so weâll see.â He adjusted his cloak to close a gap in the front, steering his horse with his legs, and then something seemed to occur to him. âHow is Pierre, by the way? He wasnât more than a couple of years old, last time I saw him. He must be, what⊠nine now? Somehow I suspect he favors his mother.â He remembered the child as being unusually solemn, for one so young. Very little fussing involved, and intently curious about his surroundings.
Michaël began to sigh, but eventually it morphed into a chuckle as he beamed. "Oh Pierre? He is an intelligent boy, and growing smarter with every passing day. Moreso than I was when I was his age," He said, the pride evident in his voice as he spoke. "And yes, he does take after his mother a great deal. You should see the spectacle when they argue. It is more akin to a debate than a spat, as neither raises their voice, and they present points and counterpoints--" Michaël cut himself off and shook his head before he ran a hand through his hair. It was clear the whole thing was far over his head.
"I fear that I am no longer raising a prospective chevalier," he added with a smiling sigh.
It was at about this point in the conversation that Rilien veered considerably to the left, assuming that the others would take notice of this and follow him. It wasnât much, but heâd just noted a disturbance in some of the surrounding snow. It had been partly covered over by a fresh coating, which meant it was relatively old, but it didnât look like anything a smaller creature like a deer could make, and so he led them into a grove, their horses slipping surefootedly through the trees, picking their way over underbrush and fallen branches.
"I think there is a den close by.â Pointing to a tree that had been stripped of all of its lower branches, he explained. "The needles of that tree and its bark are relatively soft. Considering the durability of a wyvernâs hide, it would not make for poor nest lining.â And of course there was no reason for a wyvern not to harvest from a tree close by.
Their exit from the grove put them in a more open area, the landscape gently rolling, as the spot rested in a valley area between two mountains. Lucien looked up for a moment, peering at the rapidly-darkening sky. âIt looks like we might be in for a change in the weather quite soon. We shouldnât tarry much longer. If we donât find the creature in another half-hour or so, we may well wish to head back anyway.â Theyâd been out for a considerable time already, and it would take them almost as much time to get back again if they had toâheâd rather not attempt to do so surrounded by heavy snowfall.
Almost as if to spite the thought, he heard a surprisingly-loud cracking sound, like a large branch being snapped in half. Pausing a moment, he cocked his head to the side, and a crunch followed, followed by a sort of wet sound that reminded him of a dog eating, only considerably louder. Reaching down, Lucien slid one of his javelins free of the straps that bound it to his horseâs equipment, and urged her forward with a gentle nudge of his knees. It sounded like it was coming from over the next hill.
The others close behind, he crested the slope, peering down into the recessed area below, an open field, by the looks of it. Where once the traces of wyvern presence had been slight, they were now prominentâlarge furrows dug into the snow, and large swaths of it stained pink. It was easy to see whyâa bull moose had been killed in the spot, and the snapping sound had definitely been the wyvern crunching on its bones. It was quite large even for its kin, and though not quite as big as a mature dragon, it had a tough enough hide to compensate, to say nothing of its claws and poison. Dark blue in color, it had yellow stripes originating at its nose that ran in parallel lines along either side of its spine. It did not appear to have noticed them yet, so Lucien signaled MichaĂ«l to his left and Rilien to the right. Given that Aurora and Sophia were equipped for range, he trusted them to position themselves accordingly. Dropping his reins, he nudged his horse forward, far enough away from the ranged hunters that anything thrown his way wouldnât risk them.
Unfortunately, that got him close enough that the wyvern heard him over the sound of its meal, and it turned towards him, delayed only for a moment as it processed what it saw, and then growling deep in its throat. Lucien hefted the javelin to shoulder level, steering the horse with his legs to begin circling, and spurring her into a charge as soon as the wyvern lunged into its own run. They were much faster in straight lines than if they had to turn, and so he angled away from its path, letting fly the javelin once heâd reached roughly forty five degrees to its left. The throw was decent, if not excellent, and landed solidly in the beastâs shoulder.