South of Milik and North of the Dark Lord’s Domain, Blademan stood in front of a bounty board. He had been traveling for a number of weeks, escaping dangerous situations after dangerous situations. In front of him was a poster. It was a man with a single blade for a head, and the poster might as well have been a mirror made out of charcoal. For Blademan, it was an empty wall. Not because he couldn’t force himself to look directly at the result of his villainy, but because he didn’t have eyes. So the text on the bounty may as well have been a blank slate.
He was not interested in reading much before his transformation anyway. But it did make his job that much harder. He turned to the person next to him. A young man in his late teens, barely starting his career as an adventurer.
“Say! Would you be so kind as to inform me who the biggest, scariest, person on this list is and what their bounty might be?”
The young man turned around, cheeks rosy from youth. He gave a naive smile and said, “Sure, mister! Seems to be…”
His eyes cast on the identical picture of the bounty in front of Blademan. It read
Blademan
20,000 crown.
Dead or Alive
The young man’s blood quickened. He shook and took a clumsy step back. Blademan sensed this.
“Come on, son. Take a breath. And don’t tell me something I don’t already know.”
The boy’s hands rattled as he pointed right above Blademan’s picture at Yelitz the Troll.
Yelitz The Troll
18,000 crown
Dead or Alive
“T-There’s a green troll. 18,000 c-crown.”
“Good man! And, where is it, son?”
“A-a cave between this and the next town about five miles off-f the King’s Road.”
“Thank you for the help!” Blademan said. Then he lifted his blade up and placed it against his own bounty on the board. He turned to the young man again, “Is it this one?”
Sweating, the boy slowly nodded his head, unsure if Blademan could see it.
“Well… how does it look?”
“Uh,” the young man did not know what to say, “Like you.”
“Blademan nodded, “You can’t see it but I'm smiling right now. If someone asks… tell them I’m nearby,” And before he left, he turned to the young adventurer and said, “Say… those are some nice ears you got.”
It only took a couple of hours before Blademan had made it to the mouth of the cave. He merely walked around, throwing rocks and echoing, waiting to hear something back that sounded like a cave. When he got to the mouth, he knew there were two options. Stealth, or the direct approach. Blademan was not interested in the former.
“HEY! YOU IN THERE?” He asked, “Trollie trollie trollie?! My name’s Blademan! Do not be shocked when you see my appearance… it’s pretty awesome.”
There was no sound from the other side. He sighed, “Could there be another cave? If anyone with a brain could tell me if this is the right cave… please let me know now!”
Nothing. No audible confirmation of any kind. But a presence felt by Blademan. He’d stood in front of a few caves before. They had a quiet quality about them. A deep sort of thrumming noise like the silence was knocking together and creating its own kind of unique vibration. The vibration of nothing. It was Blademan’s favorite sound. A rhythm made from empty depth. But in this cave… that rhythm was interrupted.
Blademan said, “You better not be some kind of innocent child because I’m so tired of stabbing those! They don’t put up a fight.”
He walked forward into the cave. The musty smell would have alerted anyone there was something big that never bathed in the cave. The growling would have been the next. The sharpening of claws would have also been pretty bad. What gave it away to blademan? A growl, low and ominous, that called out, “You are made of blades…” Said the troll.
“That’s right. And I heard from a close source that you were green.”
Light had long since dissipated a few twists and turns ago. As soon as the troll stepped forward, the steps filled in a visual image for Blademan. He was big. Muscle bound too. With huge eyes that could see in such low light and on the top of the sides of his head were long, velvety…. Ears.
“You must run from the humans too,” Said the troll.
“On occasion. Only when I’m tired of killing them.”
“I see myself in you.”
“Makes sense. I just got myself waxed.”
“Have you come here to team up?”
“Actually, I had come here to kill you.”
Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.
“Ah. Had?” The voice asked.
“Make me an offer.”
“You and me, two freaks. Labeled ‘man-killers’ We decide to take over. We hide out here. Make this place a home. . It wouldn’t be hard. Just need an internal heating source. Build a community of others like us. Tarnished by the humans. We live a good life. We grow old but the young ones we protected… They protect us now. We spend the rest of our weary days gambling and playing cards.
“Wow. Sounds like a peaceful life. Something to think about.”
“Shall we?”
“Sure!”
“I’m not sure why, but you have such a trusting nature about you. Despite you being made of blades… As an act of appreciation, let’s shake on it, friend.”
He stuck his hand out.
Blademan yelled, “He’s got a weapon!”
Blademan sliced with his hand, taking off a finger.
“I don’t have a- AHH!”
Blademan twirled, high-kicking and taking off the rest of the troll’s hand.
“Wait!” The troll yelled.
“Now… I’m not leaving without that sweet, sweet ear.”
Blademan leapt up and plunged his right arm into the troll’s shoulder, then pulled himself up and twisted, wrapping his legs around the troll’s neck. The troll walked backward and crashed Blademan into a stalactite. The stalactite crumbled as Blademan let out a soft groan and placed his hand to the troll’s ear.
The troll reached over and grabbed all of blademan’s head. Blood spilled from his palms but the troll picked him up and smashed him against the ceiling.
“Why!?” The troll yelled, “We could have lived a happy quiet life and.. Ah!”
Blademan had slipped through the grasp. He sliced the troll’s other hand off and leapt to the cave ceiling, sliding his hands into the rockwall, and hoisting himself back onto the troll.
“Blademan don’t do ‘whys’ He does ‘why nots?’” Blademan snipped the troll’s ear, then punctured the troll’s back.
The troll fell down and collapsed on the ground. Blood leaked from his back wound. His trollish regeneration was split among many different injuries.
Blademan fumbled while he slumped the long green ear into his satchel with his hands.
“Oh yeah, that’s a juicy one. I hope they let me keep the ear after I collect this bounty.”
“You’re seriously not going to let me collect this bounty!?”
He stared at the horrified guards as they looked at the biggest pest this side of the Ulmund Kingdom.
“N-no. We’re going to have to bring you in. In fact, every guard in here: Take your weapon out!”
Blademan dropped his head down, “Sigh. Well, Blademan, good thing there’s no such thing as too many ears.”
The King’s Road was one of the largest undertakings of civil engineering in the Ulmund kingdom. A road that went through the entire, ever expanding, country that was paved and maintained no matter how perilous the terrain or how difficult it would be for a civil engineer to get to.
The only problem was that for long stretches, it would be quite busy. Blademan caught a few eyes as he walked the path covered in blood. He was deep in thought. His reputation was growing and his ability to procure funds was dwindling. He received many stares from travelers and families and caravans. He was not looking for stares. He did not care about them. He could tell from the vibrations that reached his head that there were approximately thirty people within his area of effect on the road, with ten in front of him, twenty behind him. Of the twenty, four of which were huddled in a carriage, one of which was tucked in a secret compartment. He walked through with little problem. But there was one man that approached him… he was doing more than staring. Blademan noticed the man’s torso pointed toward him, and a heavy forward step which meant he was getting ready to fight.
These were the kind of stares he did care about. These were the kind of stares blademan loved. The man approached him, his hand on the hilt of his weapon, a sword. Blademan kept walking, allowing the person to get closer.
Blademan knew a fight was coming. What he did not expect, was that he would recognize this person.
“Jason!” Said the man.
Uh oh. Blademan did not like the way the pre-fight banter was going.
“I’ll thank you to call me by my name. Blademan.”
“I knew it! I knew that was you when I saw the name on the poster. Also, you always did say that if you weren’t human, you’d like to be a biped made entirely out of blades! You think changing your appearance means you still don’t owe Rotten Johnny his money?”
The man took out his sword and approached Blademan. The man struck Blademan who received the blow with a parry.
The swords clanged together and people around them began running, a mother and father placed their children behind them as the family attempted to back away.
“I believe you that ‘Jason’ owes you money. But I’m Blademan, friend! I’m debt free for now!”
“Once I knew it was you, I went looking. You know how easy you were to find? You leave a trail of bodies wherever you go! Even Rotten Johnny thought you were dead. He was happy to let bygones be bygones. To think you ran out on your wife and kid.”
“Blademan doesn’t have any kids. I’d make a rotten father.”
Blademan shifted his weight, letting the man’s blade fall to the ground. Blademan twisted his body and with the back half of his other arm, he dropped his blade on the man’s neck.
“Cover his eyes.”
Blademan’s arm hovered over the bookie’s neck. It had stopped just short of stabbing him. Blademan used his free hand to point to the child hiding behind his father’s leg.
“Cover. His. Eyes.”
The father turned and saw his son, attempting to peek out at the horrific scene from behind his dad. The father grabbed his son and shielded his eyes.
But the bookie had used that opportunity to escape. He was already headed for the hills when he screamed back at Blademan, “I’m going to tell them! I’m going to tell Rotten Johnny and he’s going to come for that wife and kid of yours!”
“I told you, Blademan doesn’t have a kid.” He pulled his arm back, let energy fester and released it. The ranged blade stabbed the man through the back of the skull and he dropped dead, “I can’t even hug my son.”
He walked away. He shook his headblade. Some people still thought he was Jason. Most people weren’t letting him cash in on his ears.
“Bloody hell,” He heard the people examining his handiwork with the bookie, “Musta been the Unkillable. He took up shop at the tavern just over the hill and he ain’t stopped drinking.”
“Someone ought to do something. If he doesn’t leave soon, we’ve got to call the Prism Force to deal.”
Blademan liked what he heard. An unkillable force that was drinking. He saw the tavern. Looking through the window, there was only the terrified bartender, and a vampire that was somehow able to be out in broad daylight. His cheek resting on his hand drowning his sorrows in a red.
“Finally, someone I can have a conversation with without the awkward tension of me wanting to kill him.”
He walked into the bar, and that was how he met Davorin.