The bounty hunters rode downhill toward the western steppes, the vast expanse of golden grasslands stretching before them. The wind carried the scent of dust and horse sweat, the rhythmic thudding of hooves the only sound as they descended.
It was Gideon who first spotted them—three riders moving steadily along the valley floor. He narrowed his eyes, then let out a dry chuckle.
"Those are the self-styled Noble Knights—not nearly as noble as their name implies. A bunch of cowardly blues. Did just enough killing to have their fun and keep their pockets filled, but never enough to turn red."
Malachai smirked. "Blue on the outside, shit brown on the inside. Let’s see what they have to say for themselves."
As they neared, the three riders reined in, their eyes watchful. The leader, a broad-shouldered man with an easy grin, raised a hand in greeting.
"Hail, Malachai! How goes the hunting?"
"PorkNem," Malachai drawled, his tone neither friendly nor hostile. "Just another day at work."
The two groups sized each other up as the bounty hunters spread out, casually surrounding the trio. The air hummed with an unspoken tension, the weight of old sins pressing down upon the meeting.
Reuben, ever the conversationalist, leaned on his saddle horn. "You lads are looking mighty blue. Didn’t used to be that way."
PorkNem’s grin faltered, but he held his composure. "Under the old laws, a man didn't have much choice, did he? Blue meant nothing then. You wanted to live, you attacked first—asked questions later. Or never."
Malachai nodded, exhaling smoke from the stub of his cheroot. "Aye. That was the way of things. But times have changed. Blue means something now. It ain't just ‘five minutes since your last murder.’"
The three Noble Knights nodded eagerly, relieved not to have drawn immediate ire from the dozen hardened bounty hunters flanking them.
For a moment, silence held. Then Reuben shifted in his saddle, digging through his pack. The rustling of parchment was loud in the still air.
PorkNem licked his lips. "What’s that you got there?"
"Oh, just some old bounties we brought along," Malachai replied, watching them carefully.
BloodMuffin, the youngest, paled slightly. "That’s a lot of bounties. Didn’t know you could have more than one at a time."
"Yup," Gideon said, pulling out his own sheaf of bounty sheets. "Things have changed, lad. We can carry as many of these as we like. See here?"
He flicked through the stack, papers rustling ominously. Reuben finished rifling through his own pile and let out a satisfied grunt. "Ah, knew we had one of those."
With a dramatic flourish, he extracted a single bounty sheet. Gideon followed suit, brandishing his own.
PorkNem’s knuckles whitened on his reins. "Got one what?"
Reuben sighed, shaking his head in mock regret. "Seems you boys still have a few old stains clinging to you. This here says that you, Pork, killed some poor adventurer near the Spider Cave about a month back."
PorkNem stiffened. "A month back?! That thing won’t be valid anymore. That’s ages ago!"
Malachai raised a brow, his expression almost amused. "The fact that we’ve got the paper right here is proof enough that it’s valid. We wouldn’t have it otherwise, now would we?"
BloodMuffin swallowed hard, shifting uneasily. "Come on now, boys. We’re blue. We ain’t been up to any trouble. You know how it was back then. You really gonna hold onto grudges like that?"
Reuben smirked. "Ain’t about grudges, son. It’s about justice. And justice is still owed."
Gideon cracked his knuckles. "Now, we could settle this nice and easy. You boys want to square away some old debts? Or are we gonna do this the hard way?"
Silence stretched between them, long and heavy.
PorkNem’s jaw tightened. His eyes flicked toward the horizon, as if calculating whether he could make a run for it.
Reuben caught the glance and let out a low chuckle. "Don’t even think about it, Pork. You wouldn’t make it ten yards."
Malachai’s smile was cold as steel. "So. What’s it gonna be?"
PorkNem grimaced, then forced an easy grin. "Alright, you got me. What is it you want?"
Reuben, Gideon, and Malachai exchanged knowing glances. The other bounty hunters remained still, their gazes fixed relentlessly on the ex-outlaws.
"Law demands restitution to your victims," Malachai explained. "Oh, and then there's the small matter of our fees for … catching you."
"Caught us?" BloodMuffin scoffed, shifting nervously. "We met here all friendly-like on the edge of the plain, didn't we?"
Gideon’s grin was anything but friendly. "Call it what you want, Muffin. Either way, Pork’s gonna pay his debts. All friendly-like, as ye say, or we can get a whole lot less friendly mighty quick. Your choice."
"Easy now, fellas!" PorkNem raised his hands in mock surrender. "Alright then, how much do I owe you?"
Gideon laughed and turned his head.
"Well, let’s see now. Bounty stacks at 10g per kill, and says here yer wanted for a dozen killins," Reuben said. "Now that bounty gets divided up amongst all of us that have a sheet on ya."
Several hunters pulled out their own bounties. Grant and Blair held theirs up.
"Alright, that makes four of us have bounties on you, so that's 30g for each of us. Thing is, you'll still owe reparation to the victims as well. So how we gonna be sure you pay that?"
PorkNem’s smile faded. "What the hell, guys? Where am I supposed to get that kinda money?"
Gideon leaned forward. "Well, usually you lot get that kinda money off people’s corpses, don’tcha?"
The hunters loosened their lances and readied their bows.
"Hey, we don’t carry that kinda cash on us!" Pork protested. "But I swear, I'll settle up with the bailiff soon as we reach town!"
The bounty hunters shared a look and grinned mirthlessly. Moments later, half a dozen arrows thudded into PorkNem’s chest, pitching him from his saddle.
His two compatriots sat frozen.
Malachai swung down from his horse, rifling through Pork’s belongings. "Hmm, nice armor. Ooh, that’s a fine sword. Still owes us our bounties, though."
Reuben smirked at the remaining Noble Knights. "He’s down in Vaul Moro now, rest his black little soul. A farmer’s life of toil until he's paid every last debt."
He flicked his hand. "Go on, then. Get outta here before we check our packs again."
BloodMuffin and SirLootsalot wasted no time, spurring their horses into a hard gallop away from the bounty hunters. They were nearly out of bowshot when a slow voice drawled behind them.
"Well, hell. Would ya look at that?"
BricetheHunter squinted at a crumpled bounty sheet in his hand. His face lit up.
"SirLootsalot! I’ve got one on you!"
Lootsalot's head snapped around. "Oh, shit!" He heeled his horse into a hard sprint.
Brice slung his bow free and loosed an arrow. The shaft sang through the air, striking Lootsalot’s horse in the flank. The beast reared, throwing its rider.
BloodMuffin wheeled his horse around, wide-eyed. "Hey! You can’t just—"
"I got a bounty," Brice called, already notching another arrow. "Means he’s red to me."
SirLootsalot groaned, pushing himself onto his elbows.
"You can run, Muffin. Or you can make this everyone’s problem," Gideon warned. "But if you make it everyone’s problem, you ain’t gonna like the results."
BloodMuffin hesitated. Then, with a final glance at his fallen comrade, he turned and bolted.
SirLootsalot, on the other hand, reached for his weapon and swung at BricetheHunter.
"Well, that makes things simple," Malachai grinned. "Alright, Brice. He’s grey now."
Lances and arrows struck home, putting Lootsalot in mercy mode. Everyone raised their weapons, then Malachai nodded to Brice. Only the bounty carrier had the right to strike the killing blow, if any of the others did, they themselves became a murderer in the eyes of the law. Brice struck.
It was Gideon who first spotted them—three riders moving steadily along the valley floor. He narrowed his eyes, then let out a dry chuckle.
"Those are the self-styled Noble Knights—not nearly as noble as their name implies. A bunch of cowardly blues. Did just enough killing to have their fun and keep their pockets filled, but never enough to turn red."
Malachai smirked. "Blue on the outside, shit brown on the inside. Let’s see what they have to say for themselves."
As they neared, the three riders reined in, their eyes watchful. The leader, a broad-shouldered man with an easy grin, raised a hand in greeting.
"Hail, Malachai! How goes the hunting?"
"PorkNem," Malachai drawled, his tone neither friendly nor hostile. "Just another day at work."
The two groups sized each other up as the bounty hunters spread out, casually surrounding the trio. The air hummed with an unspoken tension, the weight of old sins pressing down upon the meeting.
Reuben, ever the conversationalist, leaned on his saddle horn. "You lads are looking mighty blue. Didn’t used to be that way."
PorkNem’s grin faltered, but he held his composure. "Under the old laws, a man didn't have much choice, did he? Blue meant nothing then. You wanted to live, you attacked first—asked questions later. Or never."
Malachai nodded, exhaling smoke from the stub of his cheroot. "Aye. That was the way of things. But times have changed. Blue means something now. It ain't just ‘five minutes since your last murder.’"
The three Noble Knights nodded eagerly, relieved not to have drawn immediate ire from the dozen hardened bounty hunters flanking them.
For a moment, silence held. Then Reuben shifted in his saddle, digging through his pack. The rustling of parchment was loud in the still air.
PorkNem licked his lips. "What’s that you got there?"
"Oh, just some old bounties we brought along," Malachai replied, watching them carefully.
BloodMuffin, the youngest, paled slightly. "That’s a lot of bounties. Didn’t know you could have more than one at a time."
"Yup," Gideon said, pulling out his own sheaf of bounty sheets. "Things have changed, lad. We can carry as many of these as we like. See here?"
He flicked through the stack, papers rustling ominously. Reuben finished rifling through his own pile and let out a satisfied grunt. "Ah, knew we had one of those."
With a dramatic flourish, he extracted a single bounty sheet. Gideon followed suit, brandishing his own.
PorkNem’s knuckles whitened on his reins. "Got one what?"
Reuben sighed, shaking his head in mock regret. "Seems you boys still have a few old stains clinging to you. This here says that you, Pork, killed some poor adventurer near the Spider Cave about a month back."
PorkNem stiffened. "A month back?! That thing won’t be valid anymore. That’s ages ago!"
Malachai raised a brow, his expression almost amused. "The fact that we’ve got the paper right here is proof enough that it’s valid. We wouldn’t have it otherwise, now would we?"
BloodMuffin swallowed hard, shifting uneasily. "Come on now, boys. We’re blue. We ain’t been up to any trouble. You know how it was back then. You really gonna hold onto grudges like that?"
Reuben smirked. "Ain’t about grudges, son. It’s about justice. And justice is still owed."
Gideon cracked his knuckles. "Now, we could settle this nice and easy. You boys want to square away some old debts? Or are we gonna do this the hard way?"
Silence stretched between them, long and heavy.
PorkNem’s jaw tightened. His eyes flicked toward the horizon, as if calculating whether he could make a run for it.
Reuben caught the glance and let out a low chuckle. "Don’t even think about it, Pork. You wouldn’t make it ten yards."
Malachai’s smile was cold as steel. "So. What’s it gonna be?"
PorkNem grimaced, then forced an easy grin. "Alright, you got me. What is it you want?"
Reuben, Gideon, and Malachai exchanged knowing glances. The other bounty hunters remained still, their gazes fixed relentlessly on the ex-outlaws.
"Law demands restitution to your victims," Malachai explained. "Oh, and then there's the small matter of our fees for … catching you."
"Caught us?" BloodMuffin scoffed, shifting nervously. "We met here all friendly-like on the edge of the plain, didn't we?"
Gideon’s grin was anything but friendly. "Call it what you want, Muffin. Either way, Pork’s gonna pay his debts. All friendly-like, as ye say, or we can get a whole lot less friendly mighty quick. Your choice."
"Easy now, fellas!" PorkNem raised his hands in mock surrender. "Alright then, how much do I owe you?"
Gideon laughed and turned his head.
"Well, let’s see now. Bounty stacks at 10g per kill, and says here yer wanted for a dozen killins," Reuben said. "Now that bounty gets divided up amongst all of us that have a sheet on ya."
Several hunters pulled out their own bounties. Grant and Blair held theirs up.
"Alright, that makes four of us have bounties on you, so that's 30g for each of us. Thing is, you'll still owe reparation to the victims as well. So how we gonna be sure you pay that?"
PorkNem’s smile faded. "What the hell, guys? Where am I supposed to get that kinda money?"
Gideon leaned forward. "Well, usually you lot get that kinda money off people’s corpses, don’tcha?"
The hunters loosened their lances and readied their bows.
"Hey, we don’t carry that kinda cash on us!" Pork protested. "But I swear, I'll settle up with the bailiff soon as we reach town!"
The bounty hunters shared a look and grinned mirthlessly. Moments later, half a dozen arrows thudded into PorkNem’s chest, pitching him from his saddle.
His two compatriots sat frozen.
Malachai swung down from his horse, rifling through Pork’s belongings. "Hmm, nice armor. Ooh, that’s a fine sword. Still owes us our bounties, though."
Reuben smirked at the remaining Noble Knights. "He’s down in Vaul Moro now, rest his black little soul. A farmer’s life of toil until he's paid every last debt."
He flicked his hand. "Go on, then. Get outta here before we check our packs again."
BloodMuffin and SirLootsalot wasted no time, spurring their horses into a hard gallop away from the bounty hunters. They were nearly out of bowshot when a slow voice drawled behind them.
"Well, hell. Would ya look at that?"
BricetheHunter squinted at a crumpled bounty sheet in his hand. His face lit up.
"SirLootsalot! I’ve got one on you!"
Lootsalot's head snapped around. "Oh, shit!" He heeled his horse into a hard sprint.
Brice slung his bow free and loosed an arrow. The shaft sang through the air, striking Lootsalot’s horse in the flank. The beast reared, throwing its rider.
BloodMuffin wheeled his horse around, wide-eyed. "Hey! You can’t just—"
"I got a bounty," Brice called, already notching another arrow. "Means he’s red to me."
SirLootsalot groaned, pushing himself onto his elbows.
"You can run, Muffin. Or you can make this everyone’s problem," Gideon warned. "But if you make it everyone’s problem, you ain’t gonna like the results."
BloodMuffin hesitated. Then, with a final glance at his fallen comrade, he turned and bolted.
SirLootsalot, on the other hand, reached for his weapon and swung at BricetheHunter.
"Well, that makes things simple," Malachai grinned. "Alright, Brice. He’s grey now."
Lances and arrows struck home, putting Lootsalot in mercy mode. Everyone raised their weapons, then Malachai nodded to Brice. Only the bounty carrier had the right to strike the killing blow, if any of the others did, they themselves became a murderer in the eyes of the law. Brice struck.
