Two brothers find themselves hunting in an ancient forest. A chance meeting with an old foe offers them redemption, perhaps even glory! But what will it cost?
The Coalskin, or Blackbeast, is an HTTYD fan creation by the talented Artist, Chameishida...
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The one that got away
"Deer getting into the crops? Foxes in the henhouse? Wolves in the sheepfold? Dragons after cattle? You've got problems and we've got answers!"
Two men rode into Pforzheim atop a couple of disheveled mules. One, the younger of the two, was wiry and thin as a rail. He shouted their business cry with half his heart and dull eyes. The other was a surly sort. He was about the same height as the first but broad shouldered and big boned- the kind of person you wouldn't want to find yourself against in a brawl.
And now he belted out their sales-pitch as boldly as the lion roars.
"We've cleared the Eavesdroppers out of Keltern! We've packed the deer of Opfingen neatly in the farmer's cabinets! The lions of Birkenfeld have fled the flocks! Pforzheim, trade your Pests for Pelts. Bjorn and Koen, at your service!"
They yelled as they traveled the width and breadth of main street, hoping someone somewhere would show interest.
"It's no use, Bjorn," Less-than-enthusiastic Koen grumbled as surly recited the pitch for the twentieth time. "They're not going to listen."
"Hey. It's worth a shot, you never know." Bjorn retorted. "Ah, farmer Adalberht! How goes the Dairy?"
"Bjorn," Adalberht returned, a smug grin playing at the edges of his mouth. "Well, very well. How about you? Have you tired of your wild adventures yet? Come home to settle down?"
"Nope, just passing through. Trapper's life, can't stay too long in one place it's bad for business."
"And the game," His business partner added.
"You know if anyone's having any pest trouble?"
"I might; but I think we both know they won't be asking you for help."
With that the farmer snickered and walked away, leaving a stewing Bjorn in his wake.
"Told you," Koen stifled his own grin. "No one will ever take us seriously here."
"Oh they will, once I show them," Bjorn growled. "I have got to get this mark off my record. Word will spread to other towns and then no one will take us seriously. It's bad for business"
"No one else cares."
Bjorn set his jaw and scowled after the farmer turning a corner. "I think Adalberht knows something. Let's stay in town tonight; maybe we can pick up some word at the tavern."
"Ok. But you're buying this time."
The tavern was lively that night. It was late in the fall, the nights were long, the days were short and work was scarce. Farmers, millers, butchers and bakers were all filing in for spirits and gossip, and as small towns go, the travelling trappers became the main topic.
"Koen! You're still working with your brother? How's that going for you?"
