REAPERS - Book Two: The Hunger and the Sickness

12

The Hinterlands, known officially as the Kekort Territory, was a collection of loose provinces where hardscrabble human settlers had carved defiant homesteads on windswept plains. These folk had been hit hard by increasing sandman hostility of late. While the Nation's greater crescent was protected from the hobgoblins and other outer threats by a rugged range of mountains and untamed wilderness, the Hinterlands people had nothing but a vast barren distance between themselves and the damned hordes. That vast lifeless stretch had provided enough solace for a generation of settlers to live in uneasy peace. Now their sons and daughters faced hell. Some inner stirring drove the ancient goblin empire to reunite and delve into the human territories in the name of conquest and honor and god. The Hinterlands people considered themselves independent of the Nation and would not come asking for help unless the situation was most grave. And now they had done so with blood on their faces. Many had already fled the warfare as refugees, moving deeper into the Nation and further burdening her coffers and tolerance.

Along with this dire news from the Hinterlands, a promising claim had emerged—reports of human war captives held in a distant sandman stronghold. The report held that at least one of these prisoners bore a Reaper tattoo. With Team 9 and others in better position to deal with the hobgoblin rune-builders, Team 3 was dispatched to a town called Catatonia to meet with their contact and investigate the rumor—and, if possible, conduct an operation to free the captives at their discretion. After completing their mission as they deemed fit they were then to head north into the wastes to assist the other teams in deeper enemy territory. Ideally they would rendezvous with Castle and Team 9, who had originally been charged with building a force of hobgoblin rebels to fight the inner empire and were now to be tasked with dismantling the enemy network of runery. They would need all the help they could get. But first, Team 3 would see to these rumored prisoners. The hope, of course, was that they included one or more of their own missing men. Getting any of them home would be a triumph. They could perhaps even rejoin the fight if they were to ever recover.

Camp Nothing's high position on that mountain ridge afforded the Reapers an ideal launch point for gliders. Team 3's members constructed and triple-checked their black wings and waited for favorable winds as they told stories of their missing comrades. They spoke of Halo, his strong spirit and fair code. Tusk's vulnerable nature and articulate mind. Risper's quick wit and physicality. Grumpy old Adamore and his incredible brewmanship. The herbalist had trained Shroomer in more than just mixing health elixirs. "I'd give my left knucker for a warm mug of his spiced shine right now," Jasha said.

"Soon, brother," said Nail. "We'll get our boys home."

The winds auspiciously shifted as if in agreement. The commandos helped each other fit the gliders onto their backs. Went from that ledge one at a time and sailed into the sky. Thirteen hooted in the wind. Vulture cackled with exhilaration. Blacwin had gained mastery over the controls and reveled in the sensation of flight. He found the new glider designs far superior to the prototype he'd personally test piloted under stark conditions on his mission into the wastes for a hobgoblin head. Poor Osred had died while piloting one of those crafts. And the other three—Addison, Barnibus, and Merek—had never returned after Blacwin left them under the cover of night. Blacwin's own path since deserting his fellow trainees had been eventful indeed. He'd come upon a secret escape tunnel that led directly to the Blind Prophet's cave and killed the hobgoblin leader as he meditated alone. Completed the objective of his final training mission by turning in the head of that most wanted sandman. Saw the gathering enemy forces from his high vantage and reached Fort Nothing—again thanks to that glider—in time to warn them. Helped his fellow Reapers reclaim the garrison from the overconfident wasters.

Blacwin wished he could soar for longer in the heavens but the ground grew closer and forced itself to be reckoned with. The twin moons cast a silver pall on the badlands. He and his companions shifted their angles of descent as they had been trained, creating drag and slowing their speed. Moved their legs in time with the blurred earth.