Fanfic:Hunting Mist: Chapter 1

Hunting Mist: Chapter 1 Last Ride

By: Lazy Ludroth

Chapter 1: Last Ride
The moment was dropped onto the diminutive casket as a decrepit old wyverian started lowering the wench. His gnarled and heat blacked hands worked the small funeral pulley with a rather strained motion. The sullen huntress watching over the grave grabbed a bone shovel. "Your going to have to do that on your own Roca" Coughed the wyerian in a raspy child like voice. The wyverian straitened his back and began to gather his tools, "My condolences hunter, if you need anything from my forge you wont have to worry about haggling the price down, we look out for each other here Roca".

Roca just cleared her throat and started shoveling dirt on top of the small casket. Gathering his tools in his cloak the wyverian shambled down the broken path out of the glade. "Look out for each other" Roca spit where the elder blacksmith was standing just moments before.

"They wouldn't even pay for your casket misty...the Bastards." wiping her eyes after the sudden burst of emotion the huntress continued talk to her old friend in the casket, "The guild is supposed to respect its elders and take care of them, not disown them when they die in a fucking training session." Roca stopped and breathed deeply to prevent another wave of ovewhelming emotion from forming.

Misty was a fylne as old as Roca her self, and nearly fourty cycles ago Roca bonded with Misty. Kitten and child where inseparable. When Roca dared to dream big and become a hunter misty was naturally by her side. As the years passed Misty did not age as graciously as her human did. Misty settled down in a shitty little frontier called Droma Town. Despite Roca's travels she always made it a point to visit Misty's kitchen in the Droma Guild Hall. The people of Droma where horswagled into believing it was a important frontier town with a fully functioning guild. In reality it was little more than a outpost that the guild sent its most incompetent hunters to learn from some of the oldest guild members around.

Most of the guild administration where reassigned from their more luxurious postings in order to open a vacancy for cockstrong young noblemen and women whose family bought their way into the guild. Like many older hunters Roca floated around the area like an old moth to a flame. She despised the cesspit of decrepit old hunters and callous young administrators. She had only two reasons for staying, Misty, and her small claim of land north of the town in the foothills of Mount Dos'Doma. Roca finished pilling the dirt on the old fylnes grave. She meditated for a while trying to find the value in life with the new void left behind in her. "I'll come back Misty, and I will give you the funeral you deserve, there will be a feast and music just like you wanted."

After the huntress wiped her few remaining tears she started east to her two story lodge. The worst part of losing someone is the constant reminder people give you that you are not well. Wherever Roca went she was given condolences and asked if she was okay. It might have been heart warming if not for her general disposition towards people. Always repeating the motions, extending the same condolences and cogradulations at the "appropriate" times as if clockwork. This is what drove Roca to hunting, unlike conversations and social events a monster was never the same as the last. Tigrex was little more than the name of a savage yet beautiful storm of teeth and roars. Roca relished the feeling of being more than just a human, a hunters daughter, a spinster, when Roca was hunting she was a Earthquake. The hammer is not the fastest or most elegant weapon but it plays a song like a well worn war drum when wielded like an extension of oneself.

Leaving the small yet cozy lodge Rocca made fast for the guild hall. After accepting the only quest on the board and suffering more than one condolence Roca walked out of the guild hall into the sunlight and squinted her dilated pupils. Everyone on the street was clearing out as if a giant hand had push its way into the center of the town. The howling calls of an angered beast where unmistakable. The high pitched howl indicated only one beast. "Great jumping Jaggi's" Roca whispered under her breath as she heard the crash of a vegetable cart and its wyverian occupant.

Lumbering over the spilled cart was a young man dressed in Yukoma garb, under him was a rope saddle mounted upon a lanky looking Great Jaggi. They young man had long ago dropped his Sworn Rapiers on the paving stones. He was trying to regain control of his bucking mount. The cocky young man was bucked off violently from the monster. Seizing the moment Roca threw herself roughly onto the rope saddle causing a surge of pain to shoot up from her hips. Roca bit down he scream of rage and pain. She roughly grabbed the reigns and straightened herself out. She had seen this often enough before to know what to do. To often young hunters would get the bright idea of trying to claim a monster as a mount and the Great Jaggi was most obvious the target. Little did the hunters know that the only monsters suitable to mount where ones raised in captivity or those tamed by professionals. Resorting to rubbing the huntress against a stone wall in the vain attempt to unlatch her the Jaggi began to tire and before long Roca was able to bring down in a heap in front of the dismounted hunter. He was no longer alone, two other Yukoma garbed hunters arrived at his side and they held their arms definitely in front of their chests. "I didn't need help bitch!" the dismounted man spat.

Nearly out of breath Roca slumped off the saddle and staggered in front of the man. "You..Stupid...shit, You could have killed some body with this fucking monster."

The young man started to breath more heavily and puff up his chest until he heard a scrabbled mewling sound from the collapsed cart. An elderly wyverian veggi merchant crawled out of the wreckage and fell unconscious at their feet. Blood pooled outside her mouth and Roca staggered over to the fallen woman."Wake up..Wake up!, don't worry we are going to get you help." Roca looked up at the young men and glared.

One of the hunters stepped back in disbelief and ran away. A law enforcer wearing a faded blue guild lobos ran over to the scene and began to yell for assistance. In a matter of seconds the town center was full of officers and the young hunters where being serverly scolded. The wyverian was being taken out on a stretcher. Roca scowled as she saw the lead hunter pull out a stack of zenni from his well trimmed armor and hand it to an officer. She had more than she could stomach of this shit today and she started climbing up the hill to her lodge.

Thank you for reading!
This was my first fanfiction and I look forward to writing more down the line, sorry if the somber tone was to depressing for people. Feel free to pick this apart under a fine microscope and tell me where I goofed or forgot a basic thing like capitalization. I can never catch all my mistakes no matter how much I go through it :)