Scout Tf2 Novels & Stories

But it’s not her voice I hear next—it’s a man I don’t recognize. “Well executed,” he says, stepping forward from where he must’ve been watching along the side. He’s tall, built like a warrior, with graying hair at the temples and a crest I don’t recognize sewn onto his jacket. “Who—?” I ask. He smiles politely. “Scout Commander Tavian. I work with the Lycan Youth Academy. And you, young miss, are fast enough to make some of our older recruits nervous.” My mouth goes dry. “I didn’t know anyone was watching.”

But then he slumped back into his chair, the fight draining out of him. “…Fine,” he muttered. “We’ll send a message.” Kane frowned. Jenna rolled her eyes. Even June didn’t look thrilled. Nobody wanted to depend on Scarlett Pack especially not after everything I had just gone through there. But nobody argued either. "Two scouts, the fastest ones. They leave immediately.” I followed Tobias and the scouts outside as they prepared. The pair selected were lean, quick footed and already shifting restlessly as Tobias issued instructions. One carried the sealed letter. The other carried a signal stone that would glow if they made it through safely.

I skidded to a stop and looked up. “No, keep running. Lead them here, I'll handle it,” the scout ordered. I nodded and circled around before running right under the tree. The Rogues followed, never noticing the danger above. Four soft thumps, and four wolves fell to the forest floor. I spun around and spotted darts sprouting from their flanks. The scout had tagged them with drugged darts. Ethan's scout dropped down to the forest floor and approached me slowly. “Tess, you okay?” she asked.

Axel adds. “Scout, why?” Thyra responds. “That helps, one of the squad nine members I was thinking about is a Scout also,” Axel replies. “And the other?” I ask realizing he was talking about swapping Phan Toorek from our squad. “Well seeing that I am all about setting creatures up in love matches, lets keep him and Mona together. Move them to squad 6, and trade in another infantry and scout member,” Axel teases. I nod acceptance to his idea. “Well Thyra, are you in?”

“Describe them.” He swallowed. “Not uniformed. Mixed gear. But disciplined. They moved like they’d fought together before.” Not desperate. Not scattered. Mercenaries. Or worse. “Did they speak?” Lyra asked. The scout shook his head. “No. But they left something.” He handed over a strip of cloth. Dark. Stained. Marked with a symbol Lyra didn’t recognize. Tyler’s jaw tightened. “That’s not a warning.” “No,” Lyra said. “It’s an introduction.”

The scout said sucking in a broken breath. “Vampires?” Dante asked as his gaze sharpened. “Yes. But they were already inside.” The scout said and everything inside me went still. “How many dead?” I asked. “Too many.” He said as his mouth trembled. “Where’s Kyle?” Dante asked. “Alive. Furious.” The scout managed to say. The scout grabbed my wrist suddenly and his fingers were slick with blood. “They knew the patrol routes. They knew the weak doors and the blind spots. They moved through the packhouse like someone had walked them in.” He said.

The atmosphere was crisp and saturated, holding a high probability of immediate precipitation, and as our mounts breached the boundary lines of the plains, my olfactory filters absorbed the heavy scent of crushed damp foliage covering the vast expanses of wild grass. "This will be the final clear weather window for this operational cycle, Alpha Heir, according to my telemetry," the scout observed. I noticed his scanning optics continuously sweeping the horizon, monitoring for physical hazards, unaligned rogue hounds, or unverified sensory signatures. It was his primary directive to preserve my physical safety, and my system appreciated his defensive layer, even as my inner wolf chafed agains

It was spreading. “He’s coming,” the scout whispered. Black liquid leaked from the corners of his eyes. His voice shook with fear deeper than death. “The one from the red moon.” His shaking hand grabbed my tunic. “The Alpha of the Scourge,” he said. I already knew the name. “He sent a message for the girl,” the scout whispered. “Tell Aria… Kael has found his prize.” His body went limp. The name stayed in the air. Kael. The rogue Alpha.

“Clara. You should hear the rest.” Two more scouts returned by dusk. Their accounts were variations on the same wound. The boy was tall, but not broad. His wolf-smell carried no wild edges; it was disciplined, measured, terrifying in its precision. One swore he carried a blade at his hip carved from bone, etched with lines that pulsed faint blue when the moonlight touched it. Another claimed he spoke once, only once, to a captive rogue being dragged back by chains: “Tell her I don’t sleep.” The rogue had wept at hearing it.

The scout didn't notice until it was too late. He bolted. Bad choice. Marcus was faster. He tackled him from behind. They hit the ground hard, rolling through dead leaves. The scout shifted mid-roll—claws extending, teeth bared. Marcus was ready. The Moonbane net flew from his hand, wrapping the scout in silver webbing. The corrupted magic reacted violently. Smoke rose where Moonbane touched flesh. The scout screamed. He crashed to the ground, tangled and helpless, shifting back to human. Young male, maybe twenty-five. Cult tattoos crawled up his arms like black veins. His face was pale with fear and pain.