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Author’s Note: For the prompt ‘As Long As', I wrote a short story about a veteran hunter gets the offer to help a group of amateurs, she believes it’s an easy way to earn coin but little does she know the hunt is more than she originally bargained for.
Synopsis: Quinn has only ever known the way of the hunter; when one fateful day she swore never to help another hunter, until a group of amateur asks for help. Together the venture in search for the marked beast only to find more than they bargained for.249Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡoae9pvbhfT
Once there was a tale of a hunter that learned the way of the beast, so that man and monster could one day live in harmony. But that was a story of a distant past, one that would never come to pass again. Beasts grew in unprecedented numbers, and soon the village that had once been home to the harmonious life between the two races, was now an all out war.
The village had spent many long years terrorised by the beasts who made their homes in the mountains, and despite the increase in hunters, the monster population didn’t seem to be dwindling. It was up to taverns, much like this one, to post hunt bills on billboards, offering all manner of rewards just to see the beasts slain. Tonight was no exception, a new bill had been posted and many budding hunters flocked for the details.
Hidden away in the back corner of the tavern, necking ale by the pint sat a pale-skinned warrior. A veteran hunter, judging by fur-trimmed armour strapped to her body with crimson ropes. Her body was marred with scars fainted by age, except from the deep set slash on her left cheek. Her kind, veterans of the sport, were hard to come by, the majority had been murdered by the beasts they sought to hunt. Quinn was a seasoned hunter, welcomed by the tavern owner for keeping the village safe from confident monsters.
A small group of amateur hunters caught her eye. A spritely archer bounced around her comrades blabbing about the newest bill. The three of them looked out of place in this corner of the tavern, more would be hunters that would wind up getting themselves killed by a monster above their pay grade. But these times were desperate. More and more people were joining the ranks of hunters, just to see an end to the monster spawn and for their lives to feel safe once more. No one alive today had known that safety, only loss.
Two hands slammed onto Quinn’s table. She was thankful she’d drained the tankard dry beforehand, as it toppled to one side. She glared up at the culprit. The same archer that caught her eye previously, staring down at the hunter in awe.
‘Can I help you?’ Quinn asked, furrowing her brow.
The archer only beamed in a reply, ‘I’m hoping you’re able to,’ she said, stamping the hunt bill on the table. ‘What do you make of this? Is it worth the coin?’
A smile crept onto the hunter’s lips, ‘Now that would be telling. As a hunter you should know not to ask too many questions, fear of other hunts stealing your mark.’
‘What if we wanted to hire that hunter as a guide?’
Quinn erupted in laughter, ‘I would tell you my rate is well above your pay grade. I hunt beasts for sport, I don’t have time to babysit a bunch of amateurs. Now, unless you’re refilling my tankard, I suggest you walk away.’
The archer screwed up her pale face and snatched the hunt bill from the table, before storming back over to her group. The rest of the hunters seemed put out by Quinn’s admission. But the more they stared at her, the more guilty she felt. And what after she felt was a stare down between the amateur hunters and herself, a generous tankard was brought to the table, with a bitter sweet ale tempting her senses.
Quinn brought it to her lips, glancing once more at the hunters to thank them for their bribe. She would grant them a hearing, but not before she savoured the amber liquid.
The customers soon trickled out of the tavern, night had consumed the village, leaving only the amateur hunting group and the veteran behind. Quinn stood from her corner, returning the empty tankard to the table. She strapped a heavy axe to her back, and fastened several belts of supplies back onto her hips. She tossed a gold coin to the barmaid and silently thanked her for her service. Then she made her way over to the amateur hunters.
‘You won’t last a minute against that beast without my assistance, and that was some quality ale, I guess I owe you a favour,’ Quinn said, putting her hands against her hips. ‘I’ll join your hunt, but not as a guide. I will lead your hopeless group, as long as I get my fair share of the coin.’ She held out one hand, gesturing for one of the group to shake on her request but they eyed her curiously.
In turn they each shook her hand, with the fighter uttering a ‘Welcome aboard,’ through gritted teeth. Quinn scoffed, the archer clearly bullied them all into this agreement, much like herself. They discussed their plan in detail, with the veteran hunter explaining the tales of her most recent scar.
‘The territory we’ll be entering is their domain, the beast who marked me. I only hope we won’t meet their acquaintance. I ask that if something should go awry, forget everything and run,’ she said sternly. The rest of the group agreed, albeit slightly reluctantly.
By the time dawn broke, the group had assembled outside the tavern; mounted on the back of their wolves with all manner of weaponry strapped to their backs. Quinn led the group, on the back of her silver hellhound, sporting similar scars as his rider. Together they rode out of the village and up into the mountain lands where their hunt mark awaited.
Their ride was swift, even if the archer was trialling at the back of the back due to her obsession with petting her wolf. They’d made it to the base of the mountain in a few hours, and after dismounting her steed, Quinn set about surveying the area for tracks. Broken foliage and muddy claw marks suggested the beast had not long been present.
‘We'll venture further, stay close.’ She gestured to the crack in the mountain, as she removed the axe from her back.
A sinister silence greeted the hunters, a dimly lit cavern pulsating with glowing mushrooms. The tracks continued deeper in, and Quinn followed them until they reached a clearing. There chomping down on their prey sat the beast, a velociraptor-like creature gnawing at the flesh of a stolen cow. Just as the hunt bill had mentioned, the disappearance of livestock and the reason farmers wanted the beast eradicated.
Quinn stopped in her tracks, signalling for the rest of her group to follow suit. ‘On my mark we engage,’ she whispered, before reeling off their plan once more. ‘Ready? Positions.’ She disengaged from the others, creeping closer to the beast while it was distracted. But just as she was nearly in her position, a bone snapped under foot. She turned to see the archer in the direct line of the beast's sights.
The monster roared, bringing the hunters to their knees, before launching itself at the unsuspecting amateur. But Quinn was defter, slamming her greataxe across the beast’s jaw, and knocked it off course.
‘Get it together,’ the veteran grunted, ‘I won’t be picking your carcass off the earth next time. She left the archer to fend for herself whilst she followed the beast to strike once more.
The monster was already on one side, whimpering in agony at the cluster of crimson on its broken jaw. But the second Quinn was within its sights, it lashed its tail out, hooking it around her ankles and hauling her up in the air. The veteran wasn’t phased, instead she drew a lit flare from her pack and threw it at the monster.
‘Now,’ she bellowed.
Behind her, a small flame arrow flew through the air and collided with the flare in the monster's chest. It exploded on impact, finishing their hunt off in a cloud of billowing smoke. Quinn cut herself down from the choke hold with a dagger, and tumbled back to the ground.
‘Is it done?’ the rest of the group called.
‘Come, claim your spoils.’ the veteran said, carving out a tooth from the beast for herself. A fine addition it would make to her collection clinging to the ring on her armour.
Just as the remainder of the group were gathering their loot, another bellowing roar echoed through the chamber. One more terrifying than the beast they’d just slain. Quinn readied her great axe, issuing commands to the amateur hunts to hide. The thundering stomps grew heavier, the closer to the clearing they approached.
As the creature came into view, Quinn’s resolve waivered. It was just as she feared, the beast that plagued her nightmares. A chimaera. A wicked malformed creature made from several beasts. Its ruby-orbs fixated on Quinn, spittle dripped from its fangs. While the rest of the hunters hid, the veteran went toe-to-toe with the beast.
‘If I have to go out fighting, then it might as well be against you. Rid the world of the sight of you while I’m at it,’ Quinn chuckled under her breath, coaxing herself to not throw in the towel. She’d hope she could buy her fellow hunters some time to escape the cavern.
The chimaera roared, stamping its talons into the earth and causing it to shake. Quinn struggled to keep her ground. As her footing slipped, the beast cast a thunderous cloud, electrocuting her where she stood. But still the veteran held on. She removed knives from her pack, throwing them until they made purchase with flesh. The chimaera bellowed, writhing in pain, its dragon-like tail swept Quinn’s legs out from under her, slamming her into the earth and knocking the wind from her lungs.
‘We’re right behind you,’ the archer called out, firing off a barrage of arrows.
The rest of the amateur hunters were running from her side, weapons ready to fight. Each of them hurried to help their comrade, throwing themselves between her and the chimaera, providing whatever support they could muster.
Quinn hauled her body off the earth, and returned to the fray, helping turn the tide against the terrifying chimaera. Together the group slaughtered the beast, with the veteran’s great axe dealing the final blow.
The chimaera collapsed to the cavern floor with an almighty thud. The battle had been won, thanks to teamwork. Something Quinn never wanted to admit would’ve been possible.
‘I owe you one,’ she said, nudging the shoulder of the archer with her fist.
But the archer shrugged her off and replied, ‘What are friends for.’
249Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbxVfZO099i
