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The hunt continued, and frequently—almost constantly—gunshots could be heard. Though to be honest, they sounded more like explosions, since black powder released a massive cloud of smoke. There wasn't any system to direct or muffle the sound, so it echoed for kilometers.
All I can say is that the Margrave had built himself a hell of a business. All he did was set up the bait and hand out weapons to groups of nobles, who then showered him in gold for the chance to kill a beastman, cut off its head, and use it as a trophy. The camp had changed a lot in the last few days.
It had filled with artists and writers painting nobles beside the corpses of slain beasts, mimicking some of the iconic poses of Sigmar. The writers filled pages with stories about the nobility of the hunt. Taxidermists had also arrived, working the hides into decorative mounts to make the beasts look almost alive.
It was a parade of idiots emptying their wallets in exchange for a bit of glory and prestige back in the capital—trying to present themselves as beast-slayers in the eyes of Altdorf's citizens, fueling political campaigns, romantic pursuits, and, of course, the cult of Sigmar, fulfilling its mandate to wipe out all evil within the Empire's reach.
Fortunately, I was making a profit too. The Margrave had thanked me for saving his heir, and released me from any duty during this time. And for a while, there was only one topic at the banquet—my father. Apparently, he had been a famed beastman hunter and an accomplished carroburg greatswords. In his youth, he hunted those monsters wherever they lurked, and after retiring from the regiment as a baron, he continued the hunt without rest, keeping his lands nearly free of that threat.
And when the news spread that I, barely ten years old, had already killed two beastmen, they immediately saw me as his successor. My father would've been puffing his chest with pride if he had heard about it.
I took the opportunity to sell my family's "expertise" to help the nobles hunt.
The truth is, it was all about being smart—reading the terrain, spotting the best places for visibility, and knowing what lured the beasts. With the knowledge my father passed down through long talks about his hunts, and a bit of what I'd read, I was on par with the experienced local hunters. And for what I was charging… no, let's be honest, I was scamming the city nobles—selling them "valuable advice" for a handful of gold coins, just to point out the best spots to find their prey.
While they prepped their gear, I stayed busy, waiting a few minutes until finally, a beastman appeared, drawn by the blood of a sacrificial pig that had been splashed across the ground. I watched them use their weapons, taking down a few beasts or small groups. My job was to help carry the bodies back to camp, holding out my hand as we returned.
The nobles, thrilled with their successful hunts, handed me small bags of silver coins, and sometimes a gold one. In a single week, I was probably earning more than a peasant would in ten years. And all because I was riding on my father's reputation as a beastman hunter.
I piled up the gold and silver coins I had earned—forty gold coins and nine hundred forty-two in silver. A small fortune to some, a minor shopping spree for others.
I had planned to buy a dwarven arquebus, but they were extremely expensive. A quality model went for around one hundred fifty gold crowns, which left me with just over half the cost. The beastman presence was growing—probably due to the high concentration of humans in the area, the amount of bait used, and the corpses left behind. They only took the heads and left the rest to rot, the stench drawing more in. Leaving camp without a good position was becoming more dangerous by the day.
So I decided to use my earnings on something that could help me stay alive while I kept charging these city nobles. It pained me, but I spent ten crowns buying a hunting spear from that dwarf… or rather, that professional swindler. Still, the spear was the best I'd seen—razor sharp, with a shaft made of what looked like sturdy wood. It should hold up well enough. That said, a state army-grade spear would've cost a quarter of that price but the quality are very different .
The most expensive part, surprisingly, was buying fabric and paint from the artists. I had to act fast—I had no clue how to make pigments or which plants to look for. So I found a painter who wasn't having much success selling his services and bought the paints he had—moss green, black, brown, and grey—and started painting the fabric.
Once the fabric dried, I used needle and thread to add a second layer to my clothes, which now looked like a decent bit of camouflage, trying to imitate forest colors.
If things went south during a hunt, this might help me get away. Survival wasn't guaranteed, but I was hoping with all my heart that this costly attempt at camouflage would actually work and not backfire on me. For all I knew, it could make me stand out more and turn me into a giant target. I even draped the fabric over my horse, painted the same way, tying it down with the saddle straps, leaving everything covered except for the head.
"All set," said the city noble who'd hired me as his guide, eyeing my outfit. "New local fashion trend?"
"No… uhhh… yes… fashion…" I replied, changing my mind before explaining what it actually was.
"Better than anything I've seen in Altdorf, honestly… Alright, I need you to take me somewhere with a decent number of beastmen. I want to kill a lot, to be honest," said the noble as he mounted his horse.
"How many escorts do you have?" I asked as we neared the camp's edge.
"Fifty," the noble replied.
I came to a sudden stop. "A lot of men for a hunt? What are you planning?" I asked, staring at him.
"Gaining prestige. I'm aiming for a position in Altdorf's city courts and, well, killing a large number of these abominations never hurts in securing the support of the Cult of Sigmar… and, well, a minotaur," said the noble.
"You're insane… those things are extremely dangerous. That should be a job for a state regiment," I replied to his request.
"I'm not insane… I'm well prepared," said the noble as he kept riding and motioned toward his escort.
"Damn… no expense spared here. Plate armor, all of them armed with arquebuses… these are regiments grade, right?" I asked as I observed the escort arquebuses.
"No. A custom order from a gunsmith in Nuln. I understand you're a Reinfield. My father met yours back when he worked in his court—a bar fight case from a few decades ago. Your father killed three commoners and a noble with his bare hands. My father described him as a beast that knew no fear and a hound when it came to beastmen. I thought you, young as you are, would be the same… maybe even better. Everyone's talking about how you killed a Gor by yourself… but maybe I was wrong. Are you afraid?" the noble asked, staring at me.
"Ha, ha, ha… what a pathetic attempt to use my pride to motivate me. I'm brave… I'm a damn hunting dog that won't let go of its prey until it's dead… but I'm not stupid. Minotaurs are rarely alone—and often accompanied by decent groups of beastmen. So, I suggest you take that hand out of your pocket and pay me a lot more than what we agreed on," I said with a grin.
He let out a smug snort. "Fine… how much do you want?" the noble asked, clearly pleased with himself.
"We agreed on six crowns. I want fifty if I manage to find you a minotaur… per head," I replied.
"Outrageous… but no local hunter accepted my offer, so deal, Reinfield. Lead us," said the noble, and his entire escort started following us.
Stealth was definitely off the table with all that metal clanging around. We'd be attracting the attention of everything nearby. Fortunately, after so many outings, I was familiar with the nearby terrain and knew how to move so we could always be in a favorable position—whether on horseback or atop a hill with a wide field of view.
The sound of the arquebuses was like cannon fire. The escorts didn't flinch. As soon as a beastman stepped within seventy meters, it was left with a fist-sized hole in its chest.
Apparently, my outfit was working, because at one point I made eye contact with two beastmen, and they didn't notice me until they picked up my scent. So it's fair to say the investment paid off.
It was always the same: move ahead, scan the area, climb a tall tree to scout the surroundings, spot the next tree or high point with a good view, and continue. Every now and then, I'd hide among the escort and let them handle the beasts trailing us.
Several hours passed, and some of the extra horses pulling carts were now loaded with Gor and Ungor heads.
On one of my climbs, I noticed something—two massive figures moving toward us. I couldn't tell exactly what they were, but it was obvious they were huge and close.
I climbed down quickly, agile on the branches, then mounted my horse and galloped back to the city noble's group.
"Two… very big and very angry ones nearby," I said, pointing in the direction I had seen them.
"Excellent… this turned out to be easier than I thought… worth every coin I'll pay you, Reinfield," said the noble.
"Hey, it's not over yet. We still have the hardest part left—killing them. So don't start celebrating just yet," I replied.
"Advice? Is there a place where we can get a good position to fire all our weapons at once?" asked the noble.
"The hill where I climbed the tree had few trees. It could give you a clear view of the targets. The problem is they might have already left the area. We need someone to catch their attention and lure them into the kill zone. Then everything will be ready," I said, pointing at the tree.
"Alright, let's go… Reinfield, lure them toward us.yes I'm paying you extra, I'm not sending someone wrapped in steel to be chased by minotaurs. So get to it," the noble said before I could charge him more.
Without another word, I spurred my horse toward where the minotaurs should be. I started shouting. In one of those shouts, I saw them—massive figures with bull heads and eyes glowing red with rage staring straight at me.
"Alright, I've got their attention… time to run," I said, spurring the horse toward the hill.
I could hear the heavy stomps behind me. Those beasts were charging fast.
"If they had sent one of the guys in armor, he'd be dinner already," I said as I looked back and saw the minotaurs dangerously close.
I kept riding and finally reached the hill. I saw the noble's escorts already in position, aiming their arquebuses. I galloped laterally to their line, and soon the familiar roar of gunfire erupted.
A massive wall of smoke rose. I turned back and saw the two minotaurs on the ground, trying to get up. Their bodies were riddled with holes, growling in fury, pouring blood from their mouths and noses. One of their arms gave out, collapsing beneath its own weight.
The noble didn't hesitate. He came out holding a spear and, with perfect aim, drove it into their necks, finishing both with a single, precise thrust.
One of his escorts, armed with an axe, started cutting off the heads. Both were loaded onto the carts, and we returned to camp, collecting three more dozen heads just on the way back.
Back at camp, I was handed a small chest full of gold coins—probably more than I had asked for.
The noble looked quite pleased with his prize, and during the entire day's banquet, he was the center of attention, telling everyone how he bravely slew two minotaurs on his own. I didn't have to wait long to see him being painted by an artist, with one minotaur's head beneath his feet, while a taxidermist worked on the other.
"The extra… is for the silence," I said while watching him pose.
By the next day, I already had a line of city nobles wanting to pay me to take them to the minotaurs. Though few of them had the same level of escort as the noble aspiring to be a judge.
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