The Makings of a Hunter (Private, Valan)

[Soldier]

The Fianna that came out to speak to Valan was a large, powerfully built Warrior. He eyed the boy up and down from the crown of his head to the tips of his toes, his critical eye taking in every detail. This was Colin, one of the most senior of the clan. “A lad such as yerself is wantin’ t’ be a hunter, are ye?” he asked with no hint of sarcasm. “An’ what have ye to defend yerself with besides tha’ slender blade ye be carryin’ there?” He pointed at the young lad’s rapier, and held up his own longsword. “And do ye plan to be goin’ alone in there? These creatures killed trained guards and large crews o’ construction… Ye won’ last moments in these fields!”

[Valan Quinn]

Valan pondered the question for a moment. ”A hunter?” He hadn’t given this endeavor much thought until now. It was acting as a hunter of sorts. These creatures, according to the herald, slaughtered volunteers and construction crews attempting to repair the buildings destroyed in the fire. The human figured this would be an excellent opportunity to help, since he knew Elmaryia was going to ask him to do something anyway. On top of that, his own benefit would be twofold: Earn some much needed coin for killing one of these… things, and also to get some more experience with his sword. If his own reputation grew- even better.

“Yes… sir.” He mumbled awkwardly. But right away, Valan knew that he would need to act a bit more confident if he was to gain the trust and respect of these mercenaries. “Aye, this slender blade is all I need!” he yelled with much gusto, and grabbing the hilt of his rapier. “And I’ll only be needin’ a moment to slay these beasts, I’ll say!” he replied again, pointing his left thumb towards his chest. Valan’s arrogance seemed to be coming into full swing now. “But I ‘aint a fool neither. Loan me a few men and we’ll get started.”

A small detail seemed to creep in the back of Valan’s mind. Something that didn’t just sit right with him. “Say, uh, what sort o’ creatures are we talking about anyways?”

[Soldier]

It was too precious! The Warrior had to admit, this kid had big brass, no lie! With a roar of laughter, Colin slapped a meaty hand on the lad’s shoulder. “Very well. Brendan! Kevin! Attend me!” As the two burly Warriors came up, Valan noticed each carried a sturdy spear, steel buckler and wore the familiar kilt with chain shirt. Beyond that, each was armed to his preferance. Brendan, a tall redhead with his hair in a braid down his back, carried the largest claymore sword Valan had ever seen strapped to his back. The longbow slung over his shoulder and quiver of arrows on his belt looked worn with use.

Kevin, a massive fighter with black hair cut short, was equipped with a massive war axe, and the heavy crossbow clipped to his belt next to a small quiver of quarrels seemed right at home. “These men are under your command. Now let me clear something up for you. This is not one creature you go against. It is a swarm of them. For each you kill and return with proof, you will receive a bounty.” He let out a hearty, from-the-belly chuckle before sending Valan off on his way. “You go to face the Undead, my friend. Such glory, and battles! I truly wish I was going with you!” With that, he turned his back on the trio and continued his business, leaving Valan to his own devices.

[Valan Quinn]

Trying his best not to grin, the young man bore the weight of the huge hand that now rested on his shoulder. Valan looked on silently as the massive warrior bellowed and produced two more mercenaries. They were extremely large as well, bearing the same kilted uniform that he had seen all around the camp. Aside from being equipped with similar spears, bucklers, and chain mail shirts, they had noticeable differences. The first was a towering, redheaded fellow, lugging a longbow and what seemed to be crossing the borders of a sword into the likeness of a large, metal fence post; a stark contrast to Valan’s own light and agile rapier. The second man sported short, midnight hair like his own, wielding a tremendous war axe and crossbow. Unbeliveably, these formidable warriors were now under the command of… “me?”

Valan swallowed hard as the situation that initially seemed like a chore, snowballed into something that would prove to be much more perilous. He had imagined somewhat, of all the possible things these nameless creatures could be: orcs, goblins, even some feral beasts that had fled their wilderness territory to feast upon the flesh of the Archadoon residents. Never would Valan have guessed that the perpetrators of these hideous acts would be… the undead. This was bad. The young man had only heard tavern stories about the undead, much less fought one. How do you even kill an undead? ”I wish he ‘was’ coming with us…” Val thought to himself.

But now was not the time to waver. The great swordsman in history never backed away from a challenge. Not even when the odds were against them. This one wouldn’t either. “Alright, boys.” He said boldly, unsheathing his bravado as one might a sword. “I suppose the proper place to start would be the last place these things were seen, and fought. Agreed?” He looked at the both of them, trying to read the expression on their faces. How would they take to being under Valan’s orders? “Now I haven’t the slightest of where that is- so lead the way.”

[Soldier]

It was delicious. The two Warriors with Valan burst into laughter, the loud tones ringing through the burned streets. “You mistake our Chieftain’s words,” said Kevin with a chuckle. “The Fiannas take no orders, especially from an outsider. We are merely here to guard you. You are the one who will lead the way.” With that, the two Warriors planted themselves directly behind the young man, waiting for him to start walking. The first place they directed Valan to was one of the construction sites, the ruined equipment still standing where the crews had left it. The site had once been a block of residential apartments, now a charred skeleton. “This is where one of our crews disappeared,” Kevin said cheerfully. “And one of our Warriors was also slaughtered here.”

[Valan Quinn]

Valan narrowed his eyes grimly at their laughter. He should’ve known that these ruffians would never take a command from somebody that wasn’t in their clan, much less someone that was smaller than them. At least they were with him, and that was better than nothing. Probably. He grunted and starting pacing forward.

After being led to the construction site, the swordsman stopped and eyed his surroundings. What was once a large apartment building, full of life and people, was dead. It was a charred corpse of its former self. Oddly enough, it was corpses that were preventing it’s reconstruction. The sunlight beamed down over the party, casting shadows onto the dirt and rubble. All of the equipment was left out, presumably in the place that they were left when the workers fled. Or were killed.

The article in the herald had stated that these… undead, had moved into the ruins of the city. Why? Valan was unsure. He had never seen an undead in person, and was quite unfamiliar on their habits, or even their origin. Everyone so far had been extremely vague about this situation. How many undead were there? Were they still in the buildings? How fast do they move? How do you kill them? He didn’t have a lot to work with.

Squatting down to the ground, Valan inspected the streets. He looked around for any tracks, blood, or clues to indicate where the undead have gone-if anywhere. “I see.” Valan responded coldly to the warrior’s comments. After inspecting his surroundings, the human drew his sword and nodded towards his companions to do the same. “It’s safe to ‘ssume that when these people were attacked, most, if not all, were unprepared. Let’s not make that same mistake.” He began walking again, this time towards the charred building. His pace was slow, careful. His eyes and ears were strained to notice anything unusual. A quivering drop of sweat rolled down his temple. He exhaled slowly.

[Soldier]

The Warriors watched Valan curiously as he studied the ground, and they each looked surprised when he found a trail of smeared blood. The blood led into the charred remains of the building, and disappeared into the darkness. “Not yet,” said Brenden, setting a large hand on Valan’s shoulder. The Warrior pulled a trio of torches from his pack and held a sparker to one. Squeezing the handle, sparks settled on the flammable torch head, catching and lighting the torch quickly. He held the flame to the other heads and passed the torches to his companions, bwfore stepping to the threashold and walking into the building.

Kevin slapped a meaty hand onto Valan’s shoulder before taking out his crossbow. “This should prove to be fun, eh?” he asked with a wink before following his companion inside. Inside, the two Barbarians used their torches to cast a flickering light onto the walls, casting aside the shadows. The blood trail led deeper into the building before splitting, one point going off into the back and another going up a rather ricketty flight of stairs.

[Valan Quinn]

He hummed with reluctant compliance at the warrior's remark and sheathed his sword. Looking up at Brendan, Valan reached up to receive one of the torches that were produced. A suddened heat touched his face as each one was ignited. They were now prepared to enter the building. He felt the weight of Kevin's blow on his shoulder and looked over at him. The young man smiled a half-smile. These men were more than comfortable with danger, they craved it. Such was the mindset of battle hardened mercenaries. Valan was used to putting himself in harm's way; it was part of being a swordsman. But he definetly wasn't used to this.

The torch's light was a stark contrast to the frail and grimy black interior. Piles of soot and rubble littered the area. The air itself was stale, devoid of any kind of life. It was barely breathable. Valan lightly and slowly followed the smeared blood trail further into the structure and noticed that it parted ways. One end continued on through to the end of the building, deeper into the forbidding darkness. The other veered off up a flight of stairs. He rubbed his chin in contemplation for a moment before looking at his companions and saying "I think it's best we head to the back. I wanna clear this building out one level at a time." he said sternly, with confidence. "I'd rather fight these things head on then have 'em sneak up on me."

[Soldier]

“So we shall!” said Kevin cheerfully, holding his torch aloft as he followed the trail into the back. The Mercenaries led the way deeper into the house, Brenden pulling a stout longsword from his belt and holding it easily. Kevin pulled his crossbow from his own and loaded it as they came to a small door. The trail of blood led under the door, and from inside came wet tearing sounds. With a loud crash, Kevin kicked in the door, revealing a gruesome sight.

Two corpses were laid out akimbo on the floor, one a stout Dwarf in workman’s clothes, the other a stout Human wearing the uniform of the Fianna clan. They were shredded and mangled badly, their flesh stripped off in places to reveal bones and organs. Gathered about were three ugly creatures who were once Human. But now, they were something from nightmares. Their skin was dry and papery, a green tint making them look odd in the torchlight. Long, thick fangs parted to let long, snaky tongues flick out of overly large mouths and long, dity claws tipped their long fingers. They bit into their prey, ripping the meat off the bodies to swallow it whole. As the torchlight fell on them, they turned, their solid black eyes glittering as they hissed.

Kevin nodded as he studied the creatures, setting his crossbow and readying to fire it. “Ghouls,” he said simply, identifying the Undead creatures. “And we interrupted their meal.” He aimed and fired in one smooth motion, the bolt from his crossbow hitting one Ghoul in the face, sending the creature end over end into a heap on the ground. He tossed his bow aside and snatched a small axe from his belt as the other two creatures hissed again and started to move, charging toward the three newcomers.

[Valan Quinn]

Valan looked up with amusement at Kevin. How could they be so jovial in a situation like this? He supposed he needed it though. This whole thing wouldn't work if they were as nervous as he was. He nodded simply at the pair, and unsheathed his rapier once more. The torch rested comfortable in his left hand while the hilt sat familiarly in his right. His teeth were clenched in anticipation as he followed his companions deeper into the rickety death trap. It wasn't too far until the trail of blood came to a head. The smeared, stale liquid ran underneath a small door ahead of them. Valan could hear a faint commotion coming from within. Before he could possibly deduce what was going on, the door came crashing down under the force of Kevin's tremendous kick.

The interior was grotesque. A noxious odor rushed up Valan's nostrils- the most putrid he had ever experienced. What was this? It was the stench of rotting flesh. He glanced at the floor and saw the corpses of a dwarf and a human- their entrails and grayed innards sprawled about. A forceful push attacked Valan's esophogaus. He managed to suppress it, but was left with a small trace of vomit in his mouth. Spitting at the ground, he dared to look again at what lay in front of him. There were three creatures. It was probably the most frightening thing the young man had ever seen. This was the stuff that roamed in nightmares. His body froze for a moment, unsure of how to react.

The loud twang of Kevin's crossbow snapped Valan out of his paralysis. It was time for battle, whether he was ready for it or not. The remaining two ghouls hissed loudly and lept towards the trio. It was at this point that the swordsman's body took over, subconciously assuming a Tierce position. As soon as one ghoul was within striking distance, Val attempted a powerful lunge, extending his reach and throwing his weight forward. It was safe to assume that his attack would be a bit quicker than his companions', given the nature of the rapier. It was his hope to bury his blade deep in the heart of this... thing, and give it a quick and efficient death.

[Soldier]

The Ghoul let out a hiss as Valan’s blade sank into its flesh, black blood seeping around the blade in congealed globulets. It was a straight blow, and pierced the creature’s heart cleanly. Despite this, the beast still moved forward, literally impaling itself more on the blade until the weapon caught on a dried, brittle rib. Without a second thought, an Undead fist snapped down on the metal, snapping the blade in two. Two dried, cold hands then closed around Valan’s neck. Cold seeped from the hands, seeming to suck the life from Valan’s very veins. His legs wobbled, threatening to collapse under him. Slimy spittle dripped from bloody, razor-sharp fangs as the foul creature brought its mouth down to bite the young man in the throat.

Before the Ghoul could bite, however, the hands left Valan’s throat and the creature was flying backwards with a shrill scream, to crash into the wall. It had been cut in two, the top half and bottom half landing several feet apart As soon as the Ghoul’s hands let him go, Valan’s strength returned and his vision cleared, to show Brenden standing over him, his powerful Claymore gripped in both hands. “That’s not fer stoppin’ it, I’m fer knowin’!” came Brenden’s thick accent. “Ye got to hit ‘em in the brain or set ‘em on fire, ta be sure th’ foul things are gone!” And, sure enough, the Ghoul was dragging itself forward with its hands towards Valan, its ebony eyes burning with a hatred only the dead could have.

Kevin, meanwhile, was battling the third beast. He was holding his own, but behind him, Valan saw the first Ghoul slowly rise and pull Kevin’s crossbow bolt from its mangled face. It then turned toward the Barbarian and started to shamble forward, long, filthy claws reaching out.

[Valan Quinn]

He could feel his sword dig deeper and deeper into the corroded hide of the beast. Though he expected the ghoul to simply flail and die, it continued to press it's attack. What was going on? How was this possible? Valan could only look on with horror as a stiff blow plowed through his beloved sword, breaking it cleanly in two. A tear could have almost come to his eye as his only defense and his most prized possession was annihilated in one fell swoop. Before he could react, chilling, oozing hands wrapped themselves around the swordsman's neck. He could feel his strength and will leave him. The strength of his legs wavered as a mouth of toxic fangs came eerily close to his throat. He closed his eyes tight.

"Thump!" The weight of the attack was gone. A ear shattering shriek reached Valan as the cleaved beast flew through the air and landed violently on the floor. He looked up with awe at Brendan as his Claymore dripped with thick, black goo. "In the brain, huh?" he screamed inside his mind. "That would've been great to know before hand!" Scrambling to his feet, Valan scanned their area around him, reassessing the situation. As his companion said, the grotesque creature still squirmed and crawled on the floor, craving his flesh. To his left, Kevin could be seen battling the last creature. He seemed to have everything under control, but behind him was the ghoul that had been shot with a bolt previously. It was still alive, well not alive- but moving, and was making it's way towards Kevin with obvious intentions.

A burning rage overcame Valan. Perhaps it was the heat of battle having an effect on him, or maybe it was the outrage of having his rapier broken. In any case, he charged at the crawling creature, the hilt still tightly gripped in his right hand. It's unlikely the thing ever saw him coming. Val's leathered left hand violently gripped the head of the ghoul, using his full weight to drive it to the floor. He pulled back his right hand, pointing the jagged tip of his sword toward the ghoul's head. "Aaaaahh!" he belowed, like a berseker. He thrusted his arm downwards, his eyes red with ferocity. He wanted to bury the jagged edge into the temple of this abomination. Twist, turn, and churn until it wouldn't move any longer.

[Soldier]

With a soft squelch, the sharp, jagged weapon slid into the Undead creature’s skull, shattering bone and entering the softer, liquified parts of the beast’s brain. A keening wail went up from the creature’s throat, before it collapsed under the weight of its killer. It was not quite clean or beautiful, but it was quite effective, and the Ghoul gave one last wail before it was still. With a last grunt, Kevin’s powerful axe split his own Ghoul from the crown of its head to the center ribs. A stab from Brendan’s short sword dispatched the Ghoul he had cleaved in twain, and the battle was over.

The remains of the Ghouls’ victims were a mess. The Dwarf was just a pile of meat, and the Human Warrior looked like he had been ripped open from the inside out. Kevin reached into the mess and unclipped one of the dead Human’s weapons, wiping the blood off to offer it to his newly blooded companion. It was a graceful-looking weapon, the rapier designed to be well balanced and very sharp. The handguard and hilt was designed in the shape of a graceful wolf. The scabbard was black leather, with a clip that fastened on a belt. The weapon was of excellent quality, and Kevin handed it to Valan with a flourish. “To replace the one you lost,” the Barbarian said cheerfully as he leaned on his own weapon. “Three Ghouls to your name… Do you wish to continue to the other blood trail or go back?”

[Valan Quinn]

It was disgusting. Valan's thrust felt little resistence as he plowed into the ghoul's cranium like a rotten fruit. Liquid flesh and bile gushed from the wound, projecting onto his sleeves and torso. He thought he even felt a drop or two hit his cheek! It's sporaidc flailing and shrieking eventually relented and ceased like a fish out of water. The swordsman breathed a heavy sigh of relief as he climbed to his feet, leaving the hilt deeply embedded in the creature. His vision was a bit blurry but he took a quick spin to see how the other's faired. They were fine, as expected. One ghoul was nigh cleaved vertically and the other received a coup de grace by way of a short sword.

Valan could feel the pressure in his throat again. He most certainly wasn't used to seeing this kind of carnage. It took nearly all his willpower to keep from spewing all over the mangled corpses. His face was a little more pale than usual. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kevin, holding a sword. "Wha... really?" he replied in disbelief. Taking the sword reverently from the warrior, he unsheathed it and admired it. It was a finely made piece, more so than his previous one, that was for sure. The hilt was more like a piece of art- an elegant wolf. Val clipped the black sheath to his waist and cleared his throat before addressing the men. "I came here to clear out this building." he began. "And that's what I aim to do." After bending down to retrieve his torch, he said again "Let's go." It was a risky move. It's hard to say how close they really came to defeat, or even death. However, he had faith in his companions, and he was starting to have faith in himself.

[Soldier]

The pair didn’t want to leave until they had finished preparing their comrade for his final journey. The corpse was messy, but they laid it out and crossed his arms over the large sword they pulled from the sheath on his back and laid tip down on his stomach. After that, it was time to go. It was a simple matter to follow the trail into the recesses of the house until they found where it had branched off. The other trail was smaller, but clearly seen as it branched and headed upstairs. From up the stairs came the unmistakable sound of crunching and a heavy weight being dragged. Kevin sighed happily, pulling his huge axe into his hands. “For sure an’ it’s a Banshee, sure an’ it’s not,” the Mercenary said with a huge grin as he padded up the stairs, his torch flaring brightly.

Brenden, his huge Claymore gripped in both hands, brought up the rear. “An’ why would ye be saying somethin’ such as that?” he asked mildly, looking about and making a sign to ward off the deadly spirit.

“Not for a reason that comes to mind, lad,” said Kevin, right before the sword came down. The rusted blade struck the huge axe handle, embedding in the wood. Holding the ancient sword was a creature that chilled Valan’s soul. Yellowed bones peeked out from under dried, papery flesh. Hanging over this skeletal frame were the rusted, rotted remains of chain armor. Gripped in its other bony hand was a large, round wooden shield. Broken arrows jutted from the wood, the heads rusted into brown streaks that dripped toward the bottom. The Skeleton pulled back the sword and cocked its arm as a Warrior, readying for a power slam into living flesh. Valan found himself wondering if the reddish-black on the blade was rust or old blood, but the thought was pushed from his mind as a second creature appeared from the shadows of a long hallway, moving to reinforce the first Undead guard.