Where the Wild Hunt rules.

Serena stumbled forward, her feet dragging across the pavement as her head started to sway left and right. John quickly rushed after her, supporting her and getting inside the gates which promptly closed behind them. As John helped her on, Serena’s head rolled forward and she crumpled down again. John slowly helped her down to a sitting position, holding her shoulders to prevent her from falling down fully. From the lodge, a pair of men came jogging out, each of them wearing a security uniform and holding an extendable baton in his hand. Right behind them, John saw a familiar scarred woman rushing over. The security guards eyed John suspiciously, extending the batons as their hands went for their belts, each carrying a pistol, but before either of them could even ask what he was doing, Angie had pushed them out of the way.

“Serena! What happened?” she looked at John accusingly, only to, a few seconds later, recognize him as the guy that had blown the horn a week prior. “Hunter. If you did anything to her, I swear to Lord Cernunnos that I…”

John raised his hand and shook his head. “No! I didn’t! I was in town when I felt my badge pulse. I found Serena attacked by some of the Collector’s goons,” he quickly started to explain what happened, telling her that they had just left the cab and that Serena had talked to the intercom before collapsing forward like they had found her here.

Angie looked at her daughter, then at John. She gestured at the guards and ordered, “Get a stretcher, we are taking her to the mother tree. You, hunter, follow me,” she barked, then added, “If she comes to and confirms your story, I’ll see to it you are rewarded. However, if we find out that you were the one to wound her like this, let’s just say that even Miranda won’t save you this time.”

John felt a sense of fright fall over him as he saw the cold look in Angie’s eyes. He then quickly followed along a few moments later when the guards carefully placed Serena on the stretcher and started to carry her off.

However, a weak voice was heard as the group started moving again. “Seriously, why do people always fucking think I’m out cold when I collapse,” she mumbled with a hint of grim humor. “I can tell you that he saved me. If it wasn’t for him, Mom… I’d be some mercenaries’ cumbucket by now.” She then hissed as her burnt wrists touched her chest. “He saved me. The Hunters kept word.” After saying that, the pain grew too intense, and she actually went out like a candle.

Angie’s eyebrow went up as she looked at John, then at her daughter; she then mulled over what to do next. “Okay, follow me,” was all she said, leading the small group onwards. They walked past a large, white wooden lodge, a few guests sitting outside of it, drinking some kind of fancy spirits while not even bothering to look up from their conversation and drinks. Angie didn’t pay them any mind either; instead, she walked straight towards the back of the lodge. John wasn’t even surprised anymore when she walked directly through a door that said ‘kitchen’ on it, the men following her in, and finally, so did John.

The moment John stepped through the door, he saw a new pop-up appear in front of him.

You have entered the Wild Hunt’s encampment.
You may leave whenever you want.

John found himself in something akin to a large village with stone and wooden houses dotted among the gargantuan roots of a giant tree. The branches of the tree blotted out a big part of the sun casting the entire village in a soft lime light. Effigies of a man with antlers could be seen on every house and a whole gang of elks could be spotted grazing between the houses, among the roots and basically anywhere not occupied by either people, dryads or something that made John think of fairies. While John marveled at the sight of the tree, the strong scent of **** wafted over to him mixed with the scent of manure and freshly cut grass, making him acutely aware of both the promises Gus had made him when he tried to get him to join his organisation and the nickname Miranda had called the Wild Hunt by before. ‘The frathouse on elkback,’ it seemed somewhat fitting, judging by the amount of seemingly drunk people around.

While John marveled at the sight of another camp, Angie was halfway towards the heart of the tree, walking across a large root and then disappearing into an opening formed at the base of the tree. John had to rub his eyes twice when the opening disappeared again after Angie and the stretcher carrying men went in. That, however, brought with it the problem that John had no idea how to follow them at this point. So, John started to walk towards the tree, looking around, taking in the sounds of people obviously fucking inside some of the houses, wanton moans echoing here and there and drunken songs ringing out from other houses. He had to jump out of the way for a rather imposant looking elk that charged by at one point.

When John reached the bottom of the tree and tried to clamber onto one of the roots, an elf with rather impressive green, mantis like feelers approached him. The feelers moved back and forth erratically as the man made a small bow towards John. The goatee, however, made the guy look more like a slick freshman than the insect feelers gave him any right to.

“You look a tad lost there, friend. First time around these parts?” he asked with a mirthful wink. “How about I do you a favor and tell you how to get in there and get access to all the good stuff, hm?”

John couldn’t figure out if the guy was drunk or very friendly, but before he could talk, a rather angry voice cut in, paired with a lance being placed on the elf’s shoulder.

“Tony, fuck off right now. What did I tell you about trying to put hunters in your debt?” An angry, red haired man stood behind the elf, a rather unamused expression on his face as he held the lance in one hand and a blunderbuss in the other.

“Oh, come on, boss man, don’t be like that… I was just trying to…”

“Fuck. Off. Tony. If I ever catch you doing this again, getting your rations cut for a week will be the least of your problems. Now, GET OUT,” Gus roared, giving Tony's ear a swat with the lance for good measure.

The guy called Tony flinched and broke out into a run, looking back at Gus to make sure he wasn’t followed. Leaving John face to face with Gus.

“Never, ever, take a favor from any of the elf looking people around here. Trust me, a fae debt is not something you want to be on the receiving end of. Nasty fuckers, but damn are they good fighters,” Gus told John as he laid his blunderbuss over his shoulder. “Wait, I know you! You’re that latebloomer! Finally decided to ditch those stuck up cunts and came here looking for some quality pussy?” he asked with a victorious smile that suddenly gave John the urge to punch his face in.