Farah watched the interaction with growing amusement as the hunters bickered one another in a language uniquely strange to her ears. She could not make out the words, the flighty glottal tones and the deep, basso rumble of voices, but the ferret understood the instant when the hunter stabbed a gauntlet finger at the other’s arm, who was holding the wanted poster of what Farah presumed to be her portrait.

The other hunter shot back at the pointer with a look, and he countered back at him, speaking something without restraint.

On with the performance went, not backing down and lost in the moment, and Farah could not help but smile at the display and a playful chuckle escaped from her lips. Both the hunters fell silent after that and turned, shooting the ferret a black look that would give a poor mammal a heart attack.

“Boys, boys, please,” she said, light and mellifluous in her tone, paws slowly raised mockingly as the two hunters bared their weapons at her. “I mean you no harm. I come in peace.”

The hunters didn’t respond and eyed her glaringly like hungry predators. Another minute later, the one holding the poster began to speak. 

“That remains to be seen,” he said in heavily accented Arvosh. Not taking his eyes from her, he placed the poster away without difficulty from one of the many festoons of pouches beneath his coat.

Farah tilted her head, slightly more intrigued. 

The hunter had an amusing quality when he spoke in Arvosh, outrightly stiff with a subtle hint of menace behind it. She understood that he didn’t mean to sound so menacing and was being cautious about it. But his voice had the undercurrent of suspicion, and Farah caught him surreptitiously clenching the grip tight of his short sword.

The other hunter, the one wielding a long, bloodied mace, took no pains to hide it and spat out words, which Farah no doubt suspected the meaning to be nothing more than profane obscenities. She heard this one speak with the bull earlier and found it disconcerting that someone with such a cordial manner could paradoxically disguise something so monstrous.

Suddenly aware of her unease, Farah effortlessly masked her emotion as she had done as easy as lying, feigning shock from the insult.

"Please," she said, the word used often like a curse. "If I were to do anything and such, then I would have let them handle the job for me," She gestured at the mammals lounging dead and lifeless around them. "And spend all of my smoke bombs at your expense. Otherwise, you would have a far harder fight."

“We do not need your help!” The hunter with the mace growled. Though his Arvosh was excellent, Farah knew his words were nothing but spite.

Farah raised an eyebrow. “So you say, and yet you still took it,” Despite masking herself, a flicker of mischief spread across her features. “Oh. You’re welcome, by the way.”

The hunter flushed to an even deeper shade of red, only to be quelled by a firm grip as the other hunter pushed him gently aside to step forward.

“Let me talk to this one, Jakos. It seems your humors are disordered as of late.”

The hunter, Jakos, shot quick daggers at him. 

“You’re one to talk!” He spat, somewhat petulantly, and the two bickered again in their foreign tongue. 

Farah watched the exchange for a minute, smiling a bit wider as the argument later settled, with the macebearer grudgingly but eventually stored his weapon away.

Achieving this small success, the other hunter nodded and did the same. His eyes remained fixed on her, his distrust evident.

It was clear to Farah that the hunters didn't take any chances, which she thought was a wise and prudent course of action. However, once she managed to explain her reason and the mammal responsible for her being here in the first place, she would hope to convince them.

“I am Maldock,” he declared a minute later. “And I take it that you’re the person we’re looking for.” 

"That I am," Farah said, unsure of the meaning behind the question. 

Maldock nodded again, his expression outright unreadable. “Good. I am glad that we could meet face-to-face. However… you are…” he suddenly trailed off, then eyed Jakos to ask him something, who responded with a clipped tone.

Maldock tersely dipped his head and turned back to Farah. “Strange,” he said in slow, measured Arvosh, slightly uneasy as if unfamiliar with the word, Farah thought. “No doubt we… Like?... No… Appreciate your…”

“Aid.” Jakos offered, evidently spitting the word.

“Assistance,” Maldock continued. “You being here… Brings lot of questions. Explain now to us, or… we pummel… to bloodied pulp.”

Farah smirked at the threat and his broken language. "Well, that's a bit redundant," she said with a trace of mirth. "Is it so hard to believe I've come to rescue you guys in the hour of need?"

The way Maldock's brows furrowed implied to Farah that he was unconvinced. "That is not answer," he said with a touch of warning, one hand slowly at the end of his sword. "One chance. If no good, Jakos take you this now.”

Jakos smiled at that with wicked glee, but Farah seemed unfazed by it.

"Hm, how very convincing."

"Our employer wants you alive," Jakos stated, taking the reins as a translator. "And does not care whether you are battered beyond recognition. Who knows, perhaps, they would give us a bonus for it." 

Farah looked at him, utterly unimpressed. She glanced sidelong to notice that Maldock shared the same feeling, though slightly irritated by Jakos.

“Cute,” she said, her voice deadpanned. “But truth be told, I came out in the open, freely, mind you, in asking for your assistance.”

Maldock’s only response was a raised brow, but Jakos supplied the rest with a bark of laughter at the ludicrous request. 

“Hah! Your arrogance knows no bounds,” he uttered with unkind smugness. “Your words fall on deaf ears on us if you think we would help you, girlie.”

Farah's lips slightly curled at the word, but she quickly mastered herself. 

"Just listen to me. Something is going on around this place. Lately, there has been a growing number of bandits, and I overheard them saying they had seized the hamlet. 

Jakos made a rude sound. “So? What does it have to do with us?” Then, his keen eyes twinkled. “But more importantly, what is this hamlet to you? Why are you here, girlie?”

Farah’s eyes narrowed, displeased. The hunter was intentionally provoking her.

“That… I cannot say.”

“Cannot say?” Maldock questioned, sounding incredulous. “Or wouldn't?”

Farah locked eyes at the hunter, both not backing down. Eventually, she relented and sighed audibly. 

“Oh, fine, I do know some a bit," she answered, placing one paw to fumble something beneath her green cloak. 

As she was about to do so, the hunters tensed, readying their weapons for the slightest hint of treachery. They relaxed a second later when she slowly pulled something to be a scrolled parchment. 

Farah extended the other end to them, and the hunters glanced at one another, then back at her. 

“What is this?”

“Open it and find out. Don’t worry, this one also doesn’t bite.”

Jakos’s lips curled at the jest. He stirred forward in motion and snatched it from her paws before he distanced himself to unfurl the contents. His brows furrowed when he began reading it, earning Farah a smile at the hunter’s stark recognition.

Maldock quickly became aware of the sudden shift of mood and moved to look over Jakos’s shoulder. His features remained unreadable at first, plastered like stone, but as he saw the broken seal of the black rose and the contents within, his features cracked into something hideous.

Silence fell around the hunters, and their eyes fixed on the parchment. They recognized the seal, Farah observed with a smugness of her own, and they understood very well the difficulties that come with it. 

The black rose had belonged to a powerful Duke, a mammal who was not to be trifled with. Known for his cruelty and colourful imagination to torture, he was not the cordial type on those who failed his tasks and would make an example in the harshest sense. It would make him a likely target by almost everyone in the kingdom, but his close, healthy relations as a younger brother to the crown had simply made him untouchable. In point of fact, the Duke was so infamous along the rumours that circulated him like bad omens of flavour that Farah had made great efforts to avoid such a controversial figure. Unfortunately, however, her latest adventures had caught wind of the duke's attention and her inevitable employment was cemented with the threat of death. 

Jakos’s eyes slowly hardened the more he read the scroll, while Maldock looked like he had been stabbed by a blade, his trepidation rising.  

When Jakos had finished reading, he glanced back at Maldock and uttered something to confirm his suspicion. Maldock closed his eyes and looked away, knowing they could do nothing.

Jakos swore and crumpled the parchment. “Rabid pox takes the bastard and his line,” he said, fixing on her with a glare. “How do you come by this?”

“I have my ways,” Farah said. “But more importantly, you now understand why I cannot go with you.”

Jakos gritted his teeth. His contempt for her rose and turned to snap at Maldock, uttering loud and fast into yet another argument.  

Farah watched the exchange, still unable to fathom the words, but with Jakos growing more frantic with every passing minute, she suspected it wasn’t a pleasant discussion. His usual melodic voice slowly shifted into something feral and hard and had the quality of vinegar dripped in a stew of venom.

Maldock sighed with feeling, pinched at the bridge of his nose and spoke a single word that conveyed a meaning enough to stun Jakos into silence. Hard, tired eyes bored at Farah as if sizing the range for the kill, then back at Jakos. He spoke something else, a dead, flat response as colourless as his face, further infuriating his companion.

Jakos steamed and was beyond fuming. He whirled to glare at the thief, who took two short steps back at the affronted expression that marred his features. It screamed out bloody murder behind that burning gaze, and Farah had her one paw at the blade of its sheath in readiness for the coming eventuality.

As it happened, it didn’t come.

The uneasy tension surrounding them dissipated moments before Jakos receded close into something normal. His gaze remained steady with undisguised contempt, outrightly denied the prize within his reach. Then, with an extreme effort of will, he stormed off without a word, brushing past Maldock and leaving him behind.

Maldock watched his companion fade into a distant blur until he vanished from view, not intending to stop him. He remained stationary on the spot before his attention was firmly deadlocked on Farah.

“There is… No denying… Genuine,” he said in broken Arvosh and without preamble.

After a short pause, he gradually went down to one knee to scoop up the crumpled parchment, rerolled it, and offered it back to her, which she accepted with a mischievous grin.

“Glad that we could see eye to eye on the matter. I take it you understand my purpose being here.”

Maldock nodded, though a bit stiffly. “Do? Yes. Not beast… Meddle,” He paused for a moment, then added. “Bad business.”

“Glad you see it my way,” Farah said humorously, earning another one of Maldock's black looks. 

“Get on with it. What want with us?”

Farah gave out a hearty chuckle, arms on her hips. “Fair enough. As I said, I need you and the others to help me with this task, mainly acting as my bodyguards against the brutes you so… kindly handle.”

It took a while for Maldock to understand the words, but there was an undercurrent of rage when he spoke. “Grr, and why we help? We are no grunts to work.”

Farah managed to restrain herself to let out a snicker at the poor, not-well-spoken words from Maldock. “No. You are no mere grunts, but professionals. I could work with that. Help me with this task, and I promise that the duke will reward all of you for your efforts.” 

Maldock was silent, and Farah was pleased by the hesitation. That meant the hunter was considering, and if he was considering, then he could be bargained with. 

“I find this… Odd,” he said slowly. “Odd and worrying that this Duke knows so much… The place. Then, I no surprise. Reach with influence to dead baron.”

Farah gestured with a shrug, noncommittal, neither to confirm it or not. “Perhaps they are acquaintances. Or perhaps, distant relatives. Whatever the case, my employer did not care to give out the details.”

“And why now, eh? What purpose does duke serve after… Many silent years?”

“Your guess is as good as mine. I don’t intend to dig more dirt with the duke than I have to.”

Maldock grunted, and Farah saw the hard lines on his forehead slowly eased a little. He took his eyes off her momentarily to study a nearby corpse of a mammal.

“They too… well armed… of brutes.”

Farah followed his gaze, and she nodded at this. “And no doubt too disciplined to act like one.” 

Maldock nodded. “That is… Fair ah guess. Not know… beast that hired them.”

“Oh, I don’t think that’s any mystery,” Farah said with a chuckle. “All I have heard about this, and with the duke being involved… Well, my money is on the nobles.”

Maldock took an intake of breath, then expelled it gently, suddenly looking more haggard. “Then made decision.”

Farah looked at him. “And?”

Maldock shook his head. “No. We no help.”

Farah chuckled. She expected it would happen.

“What twisted thing from… Between you and,” the hunter motioned a finger at the corpses. “We want no part. Bad business.”

“Yeah, that is a wise approach.”

Maldock said nothing for a long while, face contorted for the right words. Then, “I… you have… our gratitude. But deny this… Us. You deny us prize. We wait when… You done. Done, and we… We take you to Duke and bounty.”

“Huh. Quite a reasonable approach. But what makes you sure I don't escape the other way?”

Another silence. Another moment to take in the words before the lead hunter leaned forward and flashed his perfect white teeth. 

“We won't.”

Then, just like that, Maldock turned his back on Farah and walked away, heading in the direction where Jakos went. 

As Farah watched the hunter fading far on the lantern trail, she expelled a tiny breath and shook her head. She had expected it wouldn’t work, anticipated it, but never how it turned out. She thought she had to defend herself, especially with that crazed madman like this Jakos human or that silent archer. 

Fortunately for her, Maldock seemed well-mannered to avert such a catastrophe, but Farah knew it could have gotten a lot worse if he hadn’t intervened. 

Farah had wondered sometimes if the stories of a legendary artifact were true or not. The Duke seemed to believe it, and the bodies around her told much there was at least something happening in the forest. Something that could spell doom for her if she wasn't careful. 

Many times the ferret had contemplated of fleeing, but the idea was liable. The Duke had many friends, even to other representatives from other states. Angering him would be a sure fiery way to brought Farah of an early grave. 

“Well, no point of sulking around,” Farah said to herself, patting the dust off from her clothes. “Better I make my useful and see what's next.”

However, just before Farah could make her next course of action, a pierce-sharp cry of a scream wailed and echoed long into the forest. She turned, recognized it as a woman’s voice just in the direction of the hamlet, and thought she heard something else in the background, a noise of a name. 

Then, seconds before sudden realization, she recognized the voice. It was Maldock.

“Alta!”