Pokke's Replacement

The young man strode confidently through the snow, feeling the cold of the Furahiya Mountains even through his thick parka. He was used to the steamy jungles and sparkling rivers of his home. He shivered and rubbed his hands together, impatient to arrive at his destination.

The small village of Pokke had requested immediate aid a few weeks ago, on account of their resident hunter retiring from wounds. The young man had pled with his village leader for two days before the old Wyverian had consented. The messenger from Pokke provided a new set of warm, furry armor that would help the hunter get through the snow to what would become his new home.

Strapped to the hunter's side was his bone sword, a gift from an older hunter who was his friend. The cheap blade could handle small monsters like Velociprey easily enough, but the man knew that he had better upgrade his weaponry soon.

Around a snowy bend in the cliffs, a bloody sight greeted his eyes. The carcasses of Popo, a docile beast that was normally raised for food, lay scattered about. Entrails looped like ropes from their bellies, and blood had melted the snow. The hunter instinctively went for his sword, raising his shield into a defensive stance. Cautiously, he crept forward. Whatever had done this couldn't be very far away, because the blizzard had not frozen the bodies yet. Damn it, it felt like something was watching him! He edged toward the corpse of a large bull Popo for cover.

Then an earsplitting roar made him jump. He looked up in time to see an orange blur plummet off a rock face, landing on the powdery ground with a whump. The beast rose out of the snow, hot vapor hissing from its nostrils. The hunter felt a primal urge to flee. It was at least twice as big as him, with powerful limbs, a thick tail, and a menacing mouth filled with razor- sharp teeth. Its beady eyes glared at him, and saliva began to drip from its already bloody mouth. It looked like some sort of wyvern, but the hunter had no idea which. All he knew was that he was in very serious trouble.

The monster tensed and charged towards him, hurling itself at a furious pace. The young man knew he could never dodge it, so he hunched behind his shield and gritted his teeth. The orange beast leapt the last few meters, plunging a massive paw into the shield. It shattered, and the hunter felt himself flying through the air.

But for some reason, he continued to fall with the wind whistling through his ears. The cliff! He realized that he must have dropped over it. His sword floated out of his numb hand. A second later, he felt a huge impact and everything went black.

ะค

When the hunter woke, everything was blurry. He sensed motion. Furry paws gently pushed him back down onto a travois. He drifted off to sleep to the comforting rocking of the cart.

The second time his eyes opened, he was in a soft bed. Birdsong filtered in a sunny window. The air was cool, but clean, and he could smell something delicious. A middle- aged man was spooning soup into his mouth with a gnarled hand, while the other gestured in the air as he spoke. The hunter tried to focus on what he was saying, but only caught a few words. The veteran hunter mentioned a "Tigrex", the young man's cracked ribs and bruised back, and something about resting. The novice huntsman felt sleep envelop him. He had one clear thought as he passed out: He was somewhere safe.

When he came to for good, he saw that he was in a small house. Along the far wall was a huge chest and shelves for weapons, armor, potions, and other goodies. Over the door hung a stuffed Giadrome head. Similar pedestals indicated opportunities to hang trophy parts of monsters. Yawning, the hunter eased himself off the bed, wincing as his bandaged ribs protested. He opened the trunk and found his furry Mafumofu armor inside, cleaned and folded. He put it on and turned to the weapons. There were a great variety of blades and bows here, albeit cheap ones. He strapped a small wooden bowgun to his right leg and slung a pair of bone blades over his back.

To his disappointment, the back door only led into a kitchen. It was in good condition, but dusty. Turning to the front door, he flung it open and flinched, unprepared for the welter of sights and sounds. A small village reclined before him, sprawling to and fro along the back of a low mountain. Wooden houses hung laden with snow, evidence of the recent blizzard. But smoke rose from their chimneys, and people were everywhere. Children shrieked and chased each other around gossiping adults. One boy even led a meek Popo down the muddy track. The hunter frowned as he passed it, remembering the slain creatures up in the mountains.

"Hail, hunter!" A man beckoned to him. As he closed the distance between them, the hunter realized that it was the same who had fed him soup when he was bedridden.

"I had no idea you would be up and about so soon! You must be made of stern stuff if you shrugged off a hit from a Tigrex!" said the older man.

"I'm still feeling it," assured the young hunter. "What happened to me?"

"Some of the Felynes were doing scouting work for the Hunter's Guild, to earn a few extra zennies, you see. They're trying to track the movements of the Tigrex you encountered, to make sure it's not moving too close to Pokke. Out of the blue, you hurtled off that cliff and landed almost in their laps! In fact, they told me your sword nearly cleaved the tail off one of them! Anyway, the Tigrex didn't seem keen to leave a handy meal, so they carted you back here. So here you are."

Felynes were a race of cat- like humanoids. They were roughly the same size as a housecat, but stood on two legs for the most part and were very intelligent. Many chose to work in the employ of human masters, or even start their own businesses. A popular job of a Felyne was to rescue downed hunters, which they did with incredible courage, for it usually meant that they would receive money in return.

"Be sure to give them my thanks. Who are you?"

"Why, I am this village's hunter! Well, former hunter, now that you've arrived. I fear that I was sent into an early retirement by the same beast that attacked you. To be sure, the Tigrex is one tough nut to crack. Hopefully you won't have to face it. But I'm sure you'll be looking for the Village Elder. She's over by that boulder made of Malachite. Good luck to you!"

The other hunter voiced his thanks, but before he had gone more than seven paces, he heard the retired hunter call out again. "Wait! What is your name, friend?"

"Just call me Shayde."