A Predicted Encounter

I slid down the thick leather gauntlet onto my left forearm. I remained crouched behind the bush for a few moments before I crept slowly out into the clearing. My right hand was coiled, ready, around the knife handle on my belt. The coarse grip of the knife dug into the skin of my palm.
As I moved closer, the wolf sat up from its sleeping position and spun around, bending its hind legs like a coiled spring. It bared its teeth with a guttural growl as its burning eyes bore into mine. I simply kept on shuffling closer, showing no signs of fear. Doing this was practiced by now, and precise. I was 7 feet away, and it stood its ground.
6 feet. My boot crunched the bones of one of its previous meals.
5 feet. It's tail stood up and it's black-grey fur bristled up sharply like spines along its back.
4 feet. It could lunge now. It's back paws dug into the wet mud.
3 feet. It pushed off its back feet, aiming its mouth for my throat. I shoved my forearm in the way and it clamped its teeth down. I could feel them tearing as hard as they could into it. As soon as it's jaw clenched down my knife slid out of its sheath silently, and I brought it up, the knife backwards in my hand. It slid over its throat with little resistance. I saw the life drain from its eyes, and it's neck. Slowly the clenched jaw released and I shook my arm, the dead wolf collapsing into the mud. I wiped the wet blade off on its side and heaved it over my shoulder.

Things roast quicker on a spit then you might imagine. I sat and warmed my hands by the fire, the forest being pitch black and the fire illuminating a circle of light in my clearing. The furs were drying on a rack between two tree. I sliced off a piece of wolf flesh and began to eat. It was chewy and slightly stringy, but better than starving. I picked up my canteen, weighing how much water was left (it would have to be soon be refilled, though there was a stream nearby so I didn't mind) and downed a bit of it. I slipped it back into my backpack.
After salting and preserving a bit of the wolf meat, throwing anything I couldn't save away, throwing dirt atop it to mask the smell so I didn't get any bears, hell hounds, or worse snooping around my camp. I slid off my chainmail, setting it beside my helmet which I had taken off previously. I put my spear propped against the side off my tent, opening the flaps and tying the knot so the wind didn't blow them open. I put my boots by the entrance of the tent and I slid into bed, setting my knife right next to me as I slept.
Yet I couldn't sleep. As soon as my eyes shut, they jolted back open. This happened for quite about 2 insufferable hours until I finally drifted off. I knew what it meant.
The next day, I found a nest, cracked some of the eggs and cooked them on a skillet. I used a bit of my supply of salt to add a bit more flavor to them as I scarfed them down easily. I slid on some fresh clothes, clean underwear, bra, jeans, and a thick shirt. I slipped on my chain mail and my helmet, my spear being thrown over my back and my knife sliding into its sheath with a satisfying noise of steel against leather. I packed up my tent, sliding my sleeping roll, cooking utensils, and folded tent into my backpack. I threw the wolf pelt into a chest, along with other skins of animals, and began to walk towards town.
When I was younger, and something very important needed to get done, or was currently happening that involved me personally, I could always feel it. My brother broke his ankle as he was out playing in the forest, and me, not more than a toddler, yanked my mother by her hand out through our crop field and over the fence. I led her through the trees and after a little while we could hear my brother blubbering with tears, and her and I carried him inside. She treated his ankle and soon enough he was back out there. My mother always marveled at how I had known he was out there, since her and I had been sitting together and hadn't heard him at all. I always just shrugged in reply.

After about maybe forty-five minutes of following the trail the trees around me began to get less dense, and soon enough the forest ended and I walked out of it. I walked over to a cross-roads sign, looking at the arrow pointed west. Nesborn it said in weathered letters. 40 miles. I sighed.

I trekked up to the gate. One of the guards walked down to it and slid open a latch, so all that I could see through it were his eyes through his helmet. All he could see was my helmet.
"Name? Identity?" He said in a gruff but commanding voice.
"Liz," I replied sternly, lifting up my helmet and flashing a sarcastic smile.
He opened up the gate with reluctance.
It was pitch black at this point, the scattering of stars was brighter than usual against the dark velvet of the sky. The light of the hearth shone like a beacon through the windows of the tavern. I stepped up the creaky wooden steps and pushed open the door. A wave of heat and scent of meat and mead hit me like a wall. There were few other patrons, a large group of maybe six or seven taking up one table, a man and a woman drinking and talking quietly at another, and two separate people, eating alone. One in the corner and one by the hearth.
All head turned as I walked in, some more subtlety than others. The man's date looked a bit peeved he looked over and broke his eye contact with her, and the group simply went back to their loud bantering. I made a beeline for the bar, sliding onto one of the seats. The bartender walked up to me, raising an eyebrow. "Ma'am, I'm afraid I'm gonna have to ask you to please take off your helmet. It could make people, uh, nervous. Y'know?"
I nodded compliantly and slid it off. "May I pick my poison now?" I said with a stale humor in my mouth.
I ordered and he slid me my drink, and I passed him some coins. After a few minutes of drinking alone there, a man slid up next to me. He smelled of alcohol and steel. I turned barely, then went back to sipping. I noted a few things about him.
He was pretty tall, must have been pushing 6'3. He had dark skin, and his hair was shaved down nearly to the scalp. He had an eyepatch, bright white that contrasted his skin color. He had large axe on his back, and his clothes were scuffed up. Other than that, he was rather handsome. Must have been in his mid twenties.
"Well? Got any pickup lines?" I said with a twinge of a smile. He smiled back with bright white teeth.
"Nah, I am honestly too fucking drunk to think right now. If I come up with something I'll tell ya'." He said with a laugh mixed into how he spoke.
I replied with a bit more of a relaxed tone. "I saw you sitting with that group over there. You guys friends?"
"Nah, business associates (he said this like biz-ah-ness, stretching it out). Sent me over to get the next round of drinks. Sorta got distracted."
I nodded and smirked. "Better hop to it then, right?"
He ran his eyes, well, eye, down over my body. "I wanted to take my time. You want to come sit with us? Ill add another drink to the tray for you."
I was about to decline before I simply shrugged, laughed, and complied. What did I have to lose?
As he picked up the ordered tray of alcohol and we began walking over to the table he spoke again. "Did you sit in sugar?"
I turned my head, confused. "What? I don't think so."
"Huh. Cause you got a sweet ass." He laughed and grinned ear to ear. "Knew I would come up with something."
I laughed in reply and slid into an empty seat at the large table. He placed the drinks down in the center and in a few moments nearly all of them were off the tray. No one even seemed to pay me much mind, so I figured this was a good time to asses them. At the head of the table there was a cloaked figure. They had their feet kicked up on the table and their chair tilted back. They had a large brimmed hat over their head and cloth mummy-like wrappings over any other exposed skin, like their forearms and hands and face. In their left hand, keeping their balance, they had a large staff, with markings or something of the sort going down it.
To their left, boisterous as you would expect them to be, was a bugbear. He was muscular with his goblin face in a grin of jagged teeth. He had a mess of drinks around him, but they tend to be able to consume more alcohol then we can. I couldn't see what weapons he had on him, but he had what seemed to be a pair of mechanical goggles around his neck, that could be pulled back up onto his face. He seemed to be having a great time, his loud laughs always being apparent in the background. He seemed like fun.
Interrupting my train of thought was the eye-patched man's voice. "Mate's, this is a sweet gal I met while picking up the drinks. I invited her over to sit with us.
The girl across me, with raven black hair draped down to her stomach with a mixture of curled and straight hair, laughed. She had burning dark eyes, and lots of eyeshadow to make them pop out. Her lipstick was cherry red and not anywhere out of place. Her shirt was low-cut so her chest really showed. "We don't need an introduction to every barwhore you pick up, Tav."
With barely a moment of pause I gave my comeback. "I can see the whore spot is already filled in the group now isn't it?"
She bared her teeth but all of the table who was listening gave into uproarious laughter. The elf next to me, silver hair back in a ponytail, patted my shoulder. He spoke with a happy tone. "You certainly have some quick wit about you. Allow me to apologize on behalf of Kate, she tends to be quite caustic to anyone strangers. It wasn't anything you did personally." His voice was silky and smooth, almost in a loud whisper. I nodded to him, and forced a smile before turning away. He made me uncomfortable.
I continued with my evaluation of the table. Across from the goblin-man was a fire-drake. My eyes widened slightly at this. He was dangerously closely related to a demon. He had scaled skin with a stretched lizard-like face. His spined tail rested against the floor. He had a cigarette in his mouth, and there were stubs of several others floating in the remains of a beer from a few rounds ago. He snapped his fingers and the end of the cigarette lit up. It was a trick he had done a hundred times, and had lost any luster after the third time he had done it. Him and the bugbear were talking to one another, with the wrapped up figure joining in with a comment I couldn't hear every once and awhile.
The elf and Kate were both talking to one another, both in more serious tones then before. She managed to glare at me while still maintaining eye contact with him.
Next to me was of course the eye-patched man, Tav. And across him was the final man. He had messy blonde hair, and dark stubble. I could see from here his eyes were a piercing dark green. He had a big build, with broad shoulders, and a shiny metal breastplate on. When he saw me looking over he flashed a perfect smile. "Well hey there." I said, trying not to sound starstruck in my voice.
"Hi" he simply replied, keeping solid eye contact.
Tav butted in with a laugh, "Hey Jim, I saw her first."
Jim shrugged and leaned back in his chair. "She can decide for herself who she wants to go to, no dibs allowed Tav."
I held back a blush and kept a stupid, flattered grin. "I'm Alex, by the way." I said with a bit of a head tilt, still looking at Jim.
Tav leaned back in joking bitterness. "Damn, she made her decision."
About an hour later and lots of conversation (and drinks) everyone began to get up. I stood up alongside them. A few of them looked at one another before Jim spoke up. "Guys, we could use a new member for our next mission, right?"
About half of them muttered in agreement, others staying silent, except for Kate. "How would she even fit into the group? She would die in five minutes without any combat training or weapons! We don't need anyone else just because you want to bang them, Jim."
"No fighting training?" I butted in angrily. "I could snap your prissy neck in three seconds, if you want to see some combat."
Both her and Jim seemed taken aback by this. Then the elf spoke up, in his dreamlike voice. "If you really think that, you can be put up in a fight room. We usually test the newcomers in it, to get a good idea of their skill sets."
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Said Jim with an undertone of worriedness.
"She can handle it, I am sure." Tav said with a wink.
Eyes were on me as I nodded. Kate hissed in reply, "Helen still has to approve her joining the group."
The group continued in leaving the bar, and I followed, slipping on my helmet as we walked outside. I was the last to leave, and as I walked, a few feet behind the rest of the group, I heard a hot whisper in my ear. "Hello there Alex. (He said this Al-ixxxxxxx) Pretty mask you have on." He stretched out all of the s's like a snake.
I nearly jumped out of my skin before turning to the fire drake. He slid a forked tongue over his gleaming shark-like teeth. I shuddered gently before replying. "Pleasure to meet you, mister?"
"Torch." He grinned. It almost sounded like he said "torture".
'Well Mr. Torch, you look pretty fucking creepy." I said with a giggle.
He placed his hand on his chest and drew back, jokingly offended. "I haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about. Usually the ladies can't resist my scaly charm."
"So what exactly do you think of ME joining your crew?" I said more seriously.
He shrugged his shoulders, and I noticed he had spent this whole time of walking looking directly at me. He hadn't looked forward, yet hadn't stumbled or knocked into anything once. "The question should be, what do YOU think?"
"Oh c'mon now, you're just trying to get out of answering it."
"Fine. I think you'll be a great addition, but even your tact and finesse joining into our group won't be able to help us. It won't save you, nor me."
I breathed in loudly then laughed. "That's quite a scary prediction Nostradamus."
He shrugged and laughed, then became quiet and eventually walked away. I figured that was probably how he tended to communicate with people. I caught up to Jim, tagging by his side. I was only 5'6, compared to his 6 something figure. I squeezed his arm and he looked down at me. He drew back for a second before he saw my body then sighed in relief. "Why are you hiding your beautiful face behind that scary helm?"
I smiled from beneath it as he pulled me up to his side. "It's just something I wear. Part of who I am."
He furrowed his brow gently and kept walking. "Where the hell are you and this crew going anyways?" I said, looking up.
"Back to camp. It's just a temporary setup, we, uh, tend to have a lot higher quality encampments."
"Move around a lot huh? Well, I am just gonna be happy to lie down somewhere. I did a lot of walking today." I said with a yawn.
He smiled, which proceeded to fade as he looked back down at my helmet.
~
We entered into a woods, small one, weak brush and dead bushes. Slender, decaying trees scraped with their branch arms against the night sky. We reached a huge clearing, with eight tents all set up neatly. Everyone began to retire to their tents. Only one of them, larger than the rest, already had someone in it. I looked at Jim, and motioned my head towards that tent. "Should I go greet your leader?"
He shook his head. "She won't be in the mood. When is she, though? But, on another note, you don't have anywhere to sleep. And I do happen to have a tent with enough room." He said this while moving forward and gently taking my hand.
I shook my head while taking off my helmet. "Thanks for the invitation Jim, but I actually have a tent I can set up." He looked disappointed but wished me goodnight.