She could see the trees gently moved by the breeze, but her hanging ponytail didn't move an inch and her ears couldn't hear the leaves' rustles. "There will be three of them, you say? Are you certain?" She asked expectantly as she gazed out of the window.
"I am most certain, Miss Cath. Morgue is a sly bastard, but he won't betray five hundred gold." Answered the man next to her as he played with his knife, slowly running his thumb along the grind. Only those who's been with him long enough can stand his grin that seemed to rarely leave his face. "And I'm certain we don't need him to tell us that she'll try to make a jump on us. But even he couldn't even guess when or how."
"If he had that much information then one of them would have been dead already. And now I realize I'm about to prove that theory with me as the lab rat. Tsk!" She paused and closed her eyes for a moment. "But if we could get her and the caravans, especially her though, we'll be bathing in fame."
"You knew..." The man readjust his goggle slightly and turned his head towards her, his grin grew wider. "When she'd come?"
"Spare me your tried insult, Dirk, you boot-licking mongrel. And re-check that detonator!" retorted her. Her deep-thought frown beclouded her annoyance.
Dirk turned his attention to the box on the floor, turning it around carefully without pulling the thin fuse which traced through the tiny gap between the window sash.
Onyx Point, the vital crossroads which connected the two major cities in the Continent was once a crowded crossroads that was a popular stop for merchants and travellers alike, had never been so quiet. Only memories remain. Memories of laughter and clanking tankards in the crumbling inn, arguments between merchants and buyers around the empty stalls, the magic show on a small dusty decorated stage and the energetic tune of the bards' witty song on the other, and the claps with more laughter at the end of both performances. Now, the place is bandits' and outlaws' occasional fishing spot.
Catherine observed the surrounding from one corner of her eyes to the other, leaving no spot unseen before resting her eyes on the hilltop where she could see the escaping sun rays around the edge.
"The treeline below that hill is a great cover, as well as the stalls and the ruins around here. No wonder Ignasius' thugs came here often." She thought out loud, malicious fascination was in her tone. "Assuming she knew as much, she'd take our baits out before the caravans even came. That'd be preferable so we won't risk blowing the caravans away with her."
"And? The problem is?" Asked Dirk as he put down the detonator.
"She should have done that right about now." She crossed her arms and gritted her teeth.
"Should I set that new trap on the door and hope she'll decide to get in here?" Asked Dirk, interrupting her train of thought. "It can slice through a log clean and easy. Never occurred to me to wish that fiend to come at me before."
She moved a step forward and looked to the weathered wooden roof below her. "Don't bother. She wouldn't wait this far away. And I don't wanna break my legs jumping out of this window. Especially not to have you carry me back."
"As you say, Miss Cath."
"It's getting dark, the caravans must be close," she touched her chin, lowered her voice almost to a mumble as she slowly ran her gaze past the treeline and up the hill once more. "Assuming she knew as much, she'd observe from a spot with a good view, a place high up where, say, a sharpshooter can see the entire killzone..."
There she was, a figure dressed in purple with a mask that resembled an owl's face, standing confidently with one foot rested on a rock. She cocked her rifle and took aim towards the treeline below.
Catherine felt as if time flowed slower for a moment, as her eyes widened, her frown unformed, and her lips parted. "...Sharpshooter?!"
A sudden force pushed her forward but not to her knees. She could feel her stifled shriek in her throat, her blurred vision, and her rapid but weakening breath. Tremendous pain. She looked down to what looked like a ghostly blade protruded out of her chest.
"Good guess," a woman's voice, calm and confident. The two ghostly spider legs that had pierced through Catherine's and Dirk's back vanished from view. "But I must say, bold of you to assume I'd make the stupid decision of not going here to fall for your poorly thought of trap right away." She continued, watching the two fell on the floor wordless. She stepped closer to the window, her boots made no thuds on the wooden floor.
"I tried, but I can never understand you people," she muttered, looking out the window. "Taking one’s honest gold to live another day; thievery. I get that simplicity. Despicable choice to survive and all that, yes. But taking one’s trust to his dying breath to avoid yours,"
Several people and rapid yellow flashes can be seen despite the dim lighting. Scattered frantically, scurried out of their hiding spots whilst firing towards the hilltop. The number of flashes was diminishing as one person after the other dropped to the ground until there were no more flashes. "Death would be such a merciful punishment."
I hope it wasn't too shabby from me. For the fiction writing that you just read (or skipped, heh), I had help from the peeps in Artbees Discord server, which I'm thankful for, and for the 3D art below, the only help I had was my laptop's undying resolve to keep working. I hope the final result is worth it!
The Spider
This character is dedicated to @veryspider. As I mentioned in the previous post, the character does not fully resemble the real people's traits, moral views, and/or appearances. They are simply a form of gratitude from me because I thought a simple "Oi, thanks a bunch!" was not enough.
Unlike The Wolf, The Spider is a deadly assassin that specializes in sneaky approach, although she's not less dealy in messy hand-to-hand(s) combat. Her right gauntlet can be filled with poison that she can control and solidify into a sharp blade. When the blade slashes or stabs the target, it liquifies part of it back. That's how the poison injected. Though the spider legs aren't poisonous, they are still as deadly, as they can pierce through even a thick steel armour plate.
The story was actually 1200+ words before I realized it. I think I enjoyed myself quite a bit there. When I tried to end it nicely somehow it reached 2100+ words instead... yeah, maybe too much just for one post. Writers and native English speakers on Hive, I'm open for criticism.
As for the character design, I hope I get the fantasy-victorian touch right, even if it's not bold enough. This was my first attempt at making a character in that complex theme after all.
Here is her appearance when not in combat or when she doesn't feel the need to get serious. Her dagger is also solidified poison so that's convenient.
Having to remake the character (nearly) from scratch had its good side too. That opened my eyes to some things I could change improve, though probably not too much of improvements.
I find her appearance was way too symmetrical. There's nothing wrong with that, but I like to break my character's symmetry to some degree. For this one, I did it by adding one more belt on her right hip while the other only has one. The second addition is the bladed gauntlet on her right arm, with the left arm only wearing a small bracelet.
I also realized how dull the original design of her mask was; flat, dull, and... dull. Remaking it to look more spiderly was the right decision. Same thing with The Wolf and The Owl masks.
Bonus render. Experimental monochromatic style.
The Owl, right. She will be the next one to reveal. Although, story-wise at this point she's practically revealed herself already. I hope you can still endure my noob writing because yes, the next character will come with a story as well.
Let me know what you think in the comment and thank you for visiting!
Character Portrait | 3D Print-Ready Model