Hatred, Adventure, and Wonder


A note from Write-Anon

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"I'm gonna skin that motherfuker," Nayan growled as she paced the medbay. She was the angriest she had been in a long time. Her leader betrayed her, while she didn't look up to the man, she still trusted him. Kurt was a leader who had stayed with them time and time again, even when others deserted.

"Nobody's skinning anyone. The man's having a mental break, we need to-" Keat tried to explain, but a disapproving head shake from Keat and a shout from Nayan stopped him.

"I don't care what's broken! He tried to kill you!" Nayan interrupted. She turned and slammed her fist into a metal wall, the steel dented from the impact and the woman muttered. "What if he gets to Robertson."

"Why are you being so soft, Keat? He hit you that hard?" Kenley scowled. He was angry at a myriad of things but the betrayal wasn't even close to the forefront. He had an argument with Mute, if one could call it that. A pair of men stood in a room, one signing furiously, and the other yelling. It would've been humorous where the arguments not so hurtful. They were rare, but when they happened the pair truly did feel hate.

"We need to hunt him down, we have Mute. He could find the fucker within the hour!" Nayan said.

Keat was fed up with the woman's stubbornness. "Alright, you ripe bitch! He shouted. "You've made your statement; sit down and let the big kids talk it out." He grinned furiously. It was the first time in a while he had been able to exercise his temper and he gladly took the chance to do so.

"I'm gonna kick your ass for that one, buddy." Nayan snarled. "Just wait till you get all healed up." She bent over the bed and spoke right into the injured man's ear.

"So you can kick my ass but Kurt can't?" Keat brought himself close to Nayan's face.

"That was attempted murder!" Nayan growled.

"He wasn't trying to kill me." Keat pushed the woman away from him. "Back the fuck off!"

Nayan made a grab for Keat's bandaged head as he wildly punched at her chest. Kenley moved between the two and pushed them apart with a hard shove. Keat fell from the bed, knocking it over in the process, and Nayan stumbled before regaining her footing.

"GOOD GOD! YOU'RE BICKERING LIKE FUCKING CHILDREN!" Kenley roared as he looked between the two. Keat rose and charged into the pair, slamming them into the wall and restarting the fight.

Mute's presence was minimal and that fact only changed once the noise grew unbearably loud. The once friendly unit had emerged into a full-scale fight. It continued as Omar rushed through the door, followed by a cowering Ilhan, to break up the fight. He took this chance to slip from the scene, he fled through the door and his presence was gone.


"Middle. Of. A. Fucking. Nap." His fist pelted the goblin's face as he spoke each word. The last strike caved in the creature's skull with a sickening crack, and Kurt had to put effort into withdrawing his fist. He released his grip on its neck and the beast thumped the grassy forest bed.

He stood and looked at the terrified creature before him. They stood at roughly half his height, Kurt being six-foot, and stood in a fearful awe at the towering man. He had been lying down in the dirt sleeping after licking his wounds when the goblins came. Ten of them had stumbled upon him and four were blasted by his shotgun.

A fifth ran around him and stabbed his already wounded thigh with a dagger. It was laced with something, Kurt felt a sticky substance in the wound. He felt the effect almost immediately and was filled with rage. He drew his knife and plunged it into the creature's neck before stabbing the next one.

From there he clubbed another with his shotgun its black stock had been stained red with blood and brain matter. He stopped a goblin's charge with a kick to the chest and mounted it, tearing into its face and cursing it to oblivion.

Kurt grinned maniacally as he stepped forward and the goblin took a step back. The pair exchanged movements several times before Kurt realized something. Throughout all the blood and anger, he had forgotten something. He had been so focused on what was in front of him, he never bothered to check his rear.

In a swift motion, he swung around while drawing his revolver, and pointed it at the treeline. He saw nothing, the only threat was within the clearing. Said threat ran away in terror shrieking as Kurt thumbed the hammer of his revolver, and promptly collapsed.


"Only two left... It seems we got here too late." Acri sighed. They had missed the morning rush and could only take the leftover job sheets. He turned away from the wall-mounted notice board and faced his expectant party who sat at a nearby table. "Flower picking for a hermit or flower picking for the guild?" He asked.

"Which pays more?" Elaine asked. "And why can't we do a quest we already have?"

"Answer one, the forest hermit. Answer two, I would like to gauge their skill first." He gestured to Robertson and Fuku. "I don't want to be running any hunts or cave exploration without knowing their strengths."

"Do tell! What shall we be doing on this fine day?" Cylpeus exclaimed. His voice reverberated through the large guild building. It was the Everyman Guild, built for the purpose of being a multipurpose guild and ran on donations. It combined every other guild and putting them into one building. A person could put a notice on the board and, so long as the pay was sufficient, it would be done.

"Let's see... Picking medicinal herbs... meet the client at midday in the guild." Acri answered as he read through the page.

"You sure? Might be a bit too complicated for them." The hooded man jested. His voice was androgynous, feminine enough to be mistaken for a woman, but with enough manliness to make a person question it.

"Oh Alchie... I remember when you first joined, barely able to hold your sword straight, you were!" Cylpeus exclaimed in mock cheer. He tilted his visor upwards and drank from a wooden mug. Alchie shrunk in his seat with a groan as the sound of clinking glass emanated from under his half-cloak.

"It's not our specialty, but we'll be able to handle it," Fuku said optimistically. She sat beside Robertson with a smile. Every now and then her ears would twitch and her tails would flutter, the latter brushed against Robertson several times.

"And what is your specialty?" Acri questioned.

"This is my mother's sword." Fuku unlatched it and held it forward. "She was training me so that I too might wield it."

Acri knew that sword. One of the strange men had it back when he saw them at the cave. The connection between them and the girl was obvious and... Robertson, it was a foreign name for sure. There must have been some sort of association between the three. He had no reason to suspect foul play, but he would keep an eye on them.

"I see." He glanced at Elaine, who seemed to have come to the same conclusion. "And you?" He gestured to Robertson.

"I know a bit of swordplay from my time on the stage, nothing too fancy," Robertson answered honestly. He hadn't lied at all, he had been in a small troupe that focused on relatively unknown Roman-era plays. Sword fighting tended to take the front stage in many of them. This was before he made the career switch to movies.

"Well then, no use in standing around here. Shall we leave?" Acri received various affirmations from the group and they set off.


Mute was a solitary character. He cherished silence, especially in times of conflict. Silence was an odd sound, the sound of nothingness was both the loudest and the quietest. He found it odd how such a lack of something could produce such a sound.

He knew that a conflict was to erupt soon, he saw all the signs. First was the mission, six people to guard forty? It was unheard of. There would be at least half as many guards as personnel if the mission was serious. Never in his career had he seen such a blatant way to get rid of people.

The second was the people. Kurt and the others weren't a crack military unit, they were civilians with guns and experience. They had zero training and only knew what they learned firsthand. They were all costly to Gerold in some way. Kurt was expensive, Keat cost reputation through war crimes, Kenley used up his patience, Nayan was a general pain in the ass, and Robertson clogged up his inbox with fan mail.

Mute wasn't sure what he took.

The third was the location. An alien planet in the farthest reaches of the galaxy, right on the edge of unexplored space. There was only one way out, and that was the ship they came in on. If something were to happen to it, they would be stranded.

Mute stalked through the forest, moving slowly as to not disturb the serenity and fill his world with sound. He hadn't taken his rifle or sidearm, only a knife which he concealed under his shirt. He wasn't out to kill, merely to send a message.

He could smell something. The smell of rust permeated the air of the forest ahead of him. It was blood, a smell he was all too familiar with. He laid down and slowly crawled through the tall grass and foliage as he made for the clearing. Mute pushed aside a large leaf and gazed upon the sight in front of him.

He stepped over the smoldering remains of a fire and walked into the middle of the clearing. A rock had been blackened by it, as was a large amount of grass and a few trees.

Several goblin corpses dotted the ground along with a creature taken straight from fantasy, a dragon. Mute stood and walked over to it. He inspected several holes in its body and the especially large one in its head. At first, he thought that the goblins had killed it and left their dead, but goblins didn't carry shotguns.

Only a weapon like that would make such a large hole. Add the smell of gunpowder and he knew exactly who had been here.


The only question was where he had run off to. He was wounded, that much could be concluded from the bloodied spikes and the stained grass. He had expended at least one magazine of ammunition, man casings had been left on the ground. Mute could only assume that either Kurt had ran away or something had taken him.

If Mute was correct and the spikes had impaled Kurt where he thought they did, he wouldn't last long. The legs held many major arteries. That's why a shot to the leg is so deadly, many bleed out before proper aid can be administered. In some cases, it can even be deadlier than a shot to the chest.

Muted started running, he had to find the man.


1,907 words 10,641 characters (roughly)


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