I'll bet you've never read a Monster Hunter story like this before. Well, I've never WROTE a Monster Hunter story, so there you go. This story was written on a whim and…well…just read on.
Warriors
Hunting a Barioth seemed suicidal. The hunter was skilled, of that there was no doubt, but this quest was undoubtedly out of his league. After his promotion at the guild, he'd been presented with a list of brand new monsters to hunt, monsters that were bigger and tougher than anything he'd fought yet. He'd slain Barroths and Gobuls, and when accompanied by friends he'd battled Rathians and even the infamous Lagiacrus, but now he was alone, and he was travelling to the most inhospitable place the guild would let him travel to. Deep in the heart of the northern tundra, lay a monster that few would dare to battle, a beast known for its speed and ferocity, a beast known for freezing men solid and impaling their throats with its sabre teeth, a beast that was responsible for almost as many hunter deaths as the Deviljho.
The hunter didn't know whether or not he could succeed, but dammit he had to try. He was good, but his mentor, the friend who he'd fought alongside with against all manner of powerful monsters, was so much better than him. For too long, he'd stood in his friend's shadow. No matter what monster he killed, his friend had killed something bigger, and had already turned it into a sword, ready to show off. No matter what accomplishment he achieved, his friend had one that put his to shame. Now however, the hunter had a chance of showing what he was made of. His mentor had told him to stay away from the rank 2 missions at the tavern, as they were too tough for either of them to take on. The hunter knew for a fact his mentor had never touched the rank 2 missions, and had certainly never gone after a Barioth. If he did this…maybe he'd finally get some recognition and respect.
And so he travelled to the tundra, a week long journey by ship, during which he prepared for the coming hunt, reading up on his prey, learning of the region, and training with his gunlance. The lance was known as the Peco Tipi, a ridiculous name that belied its fiery power. He'd chosen it specifically because of its ability to shoot flames, the element that the Barioth was supposedly weak to. By the time they had arrived, he'd fully prepared himself for the battle, both mentally and physically. It was all in the hands of fate now. He departed the ship early in the morning, the mocking comments of the crewmen (You're hunting the Barioth?! Ha! We'll have to carry your remains back in a cup!) ringing in his ears.
The tundra was a small area, so after he'd set up shop in the region's hunter camp and downed a heat drink to combat the cold, the beast enough was easy to find. He found it in a wide, icy plain, having just killed a pack of Baggi. Stupid creatures. The Barioth was truly an impressive beast. It possessed a thin, but powerful body covered with snow white scales, and a pair of leathery wings adorned its strong arms. It had noticeable feline qualities in its body, along with a pair of sabre teeth and a long, spiked tail. While it wasn't as big as some of the monsters the hunter had fought, its power was obvious. It was a majestic creature, somehow appearing more refined than the feral brutes he fought on a daily basis. It almost looked thoughtful as it examined the corpses of the foolish reptiles that had attacked it.
As he entered the area, the creature was casting its bored gaze over the environment, only to tense up as it noticed the new arrival. It tensed up even more as the hunter threw a flash bomb at it. A blinding flash of light ruined its vision, allowing the hunter to charge. He took advantage of the monster's blindness to use slow, powerful strikes, dealing what seemed like heavy damage. His opponent thrashed around blindly, ignoring the flames fired from the lance's barrel. Right as the hunter was starting to feel confident, the beast opened its eyes, but whereas before they had been blue, they were now blood red.
Now obviously enraged, the monster roared at him, knocking him off balance for a second. He barely had time to widen his eyes in shock before the beast took advantage, knocking him off his feet with a rapid swing of his tail. He landed on his back and, while he quickly rolled to his feet, the beast attacked again without any delay. The hunter was primarily a defensive fighter, and it showed as he hid behind his shield, blocking every attack and waiting for an opening. After a series of swipes with its claws, the beast seamed to pause, and he charged his gunlance for the Wyvern's Fire, his most powerful attack. Before the massive blast could fire however, his adversary suddenly moved. His shot sailed past it uselessly, and he grunted in pain as its strong shoulder collided with his midsection. He went flying, landing on his back, and it pressed the attack. He tried to get up, only for it to barrel into him again, sending him skimming through the snow. When he got up, his weapons were nowhere in sight, and he was swaying in a confused daze. He managed to snap out of this daze just in time to notice that the Barioth was in front of him. He raised his shield, realising too late that he didn't had one anymore, and the monster took this as an invitation to sink its sabre teeth into his arm. The pain was immediate, and he screamed at the top of his lungs as blood poured from his arm. The Barioth hungrily feasted on his limb, and the pain was almost paralysing. That would most certainly have been the end, if not for a strange twist of fate. It was a mixed blessing: on one hand, the screaming caused an avalanche to descend from on high and flatten the Barioth, while on the other hand, the screaming caused an avalanche to descend from on high and flatten him.
The next hour or so was a blur to the hunter, a hazy mess of adrenaline infused crawling, and paralysing terror that served to make recollection of the event utterly impossible. Suffice to say, when the hunter woke up to a Popo sniffing his face a while later, he had no idea how he'd gotten there. All he knew was that his arm really, really hurt. Fortunately, the supply chest in the hunter camp had been full of supplies, including a large number of first aid kits. The hunter used one such kit to treat his injured arm, and was fully aware that he'd likely need every last one of these kits if he wanted to leave with the Barioth's head.
After treating his arm, he ate some rations, and took a half hour break to recover, while testing whether or not his arm was fully operational. Further experimentation revealed that, while his arm hurt, it still worked perfectly, so he finished his rations, and retraced his steps back to the site of his previous defeat.
A fresh blanket of snow covered the area, provided by the avalanche, but there were signs that something had burrowed out from under it. The Barioth had survived the avalanche, and had left footprints in the snow revealing its whereabouts. Thanking his lucky stars, the hunter quickly used a vial of heat drink to melt the snow, helping him find his weapons, and he equipped himself before heading after his sabre toothed foe.
He found it a short while later, on the edge of a towering cliff. Trying a different tactic this time, he tried to sneak up on the beast, only to step on a twig. He cringed as the twig snapped, revealing his presence. The Barioth's ears perked up, and with impossible speed, it span around and charged towards him shoulder first. He barely brought his shield up to block the shoulder barge, which was delivered with enough force to nearly break his arm. He was pushed backwards through the snow, but didn't even have a moment to catch his breath before the beast's tail went for his face. He ducked under the whip, before firing his gunlance at the white creature. It barely took any notice, and used its mighty wings to fly into the air, before diving down towards him.
Though the beast was as ferocious as ever, its eyes were now its normal blue, and it seemed less angry than it had before. It was noticeably surprised to see the hunter, an unusual phenomenon, as the only expression monsters were usually able to show was one of pure mindless rage. He sensed there was more to the Barioth, an intellect beyond that of most monsters. Still, the hunter was given cause to doubt that assessment as the beast furiously assaulted him. Though blocking was probably the hunter's greatest skill, he still struggled to defend against the monster's rapid blows. It was fast, faster than any creature he'd ever fought, and with that speed was a terrifying relentlessness. It never stopped attacking, never paused for a moment, constantly moved and weaved and dodged and flew and dived and swiped and slashed and charged. It was one of the most active creatures he'd ever faced, and certainly the most challenging. If he survived, he'd have a great story to tell the other guild members, and one hell of an achievement to rub in his mentor's face.
Though he was holding his own, the hunter was constantly on the defensive, and he knew it. His opponent simply would not give him a chance to attack, using its impressive speed to constantly push him back, forcing him to keep his shield up. While he was constantly using his shield, the hunter paid absolutely no attention to his weapon, and his adversary caught on to that. As he blocked its latest swipe, it suddenly struck with its tail, hitting his gunlance and sending the weapon spinning out of his hands. The monster…it had used a feint on him. He'd fallen victim to tactics designed by an animal. This was unbelievable. Even as he tried to process this, the beast's shoulder collided with his face, knocking him onto his back. Ignoring the cool embrace of the snow, he carefully got to his feet, reaching out for his lance as the creature flew back a few feet. After a few tense seconds, his hand grasped the handle of his weapon, only for a blast of freezing cold to fire from the monster's maw. A look of dread appeared on his face, a look that he was unable to change as the blast descended on him, wrapping around him like a freezing veil. His body temperature plummeted, and a coat of ice completely immobilised him. He was frozen solid, and the Barioth was the kind of creature to take full advantage.
It approached him slowly, obviously confident, but still noticeably cautious. Even though its prey was frozen solid, the white predator still refused to let its guard down. This beast...it had the mind of a true hunter. Fed up of analysing the creature, the frozen hunter attempted to move. He completely failed, but as he shook, he felt a bottle on his belt begin to come loose. Remembering exactly what was in that bottle, he shook again, and the container fell from his belt. It landed on a rock, smashing to pieces and releasing its contents all over him. It was a cleanser, a guild product designed specifically to free hunters from whatever bound them. Slime, mud, snow, ice, whatever it was, the cleanser worked to remove it, freeing the hunter and making them squeaky clean. Even now, after barely five seconds of contact, the cleanser got to work, melting the ice that surrounded the hunter. The Barioth noticed this, and it charged in an attempt to kill its prey before he could get free. For the first time however, the Barioth wasn't fast enough. The cleanser worked its magic, and the hunter was free to stab directly forwards with his lance.
The impact hurt slightly, but the hunter pulled a trigger in the handle of the weapon, causing the gunlance to fire its explosive shell directly in the monster's face. It recoiled violently, stumbling back and noticeably flinching. The hunter saw his chance and charged forwards before letting off strike after strike, and shot after shot. The Barioth took them all, and though it was constantly knocked back, it rarely showed anything resembling pain. After the tenth attack, it recovered, weaving out of the way of the eleventh strike before charging in a shoulder barging notion. Though the gunlance is too heavy for a wielder to roll or reliably dodge while wielding it, users can perform a sideways dodge immediately after launching an attack, using the momentum of the blow to move their body faster than they could move normally. The hunter executed such a dodge, evading the Barioth's attack before striking again. He stabbed its back, before firing every shell in his weapon in a concentrated burst, creating a series of fiery explosions. A cocky smirk appeared on his face, until the Barioth soared into the air. Its sudden ascent knocked the hunter back, but before he could recover, the beast dived, hitting him again and knocking him further back. The hunter had been so concerned with the battle that he hadn't noticed the cliff, and that last attack was just enough to send him sailing off it.
He instinctively let go of his weapon and shield, letting them fall down to the depths below, before frantically grabbing the edge of the cliff with both hands. As he tried to pull himself up however, the opportunistic predator struck. A swipe of the Barioth's claws caused him to lose his grip, and he tumbled downwards. After falling a few feet, he managed to grab onto a loose branch, and hung on for dear life. This was what hunters called a Critical Moment, an event where the hunter's life hangs in the balance, where their prey has the upper hand, and death is so close you could just reach out and touch it. He'd been in Critical Moments before of course, every hunter has at least one, but this was the most dire of the lot. His pathetic mortality was all too obvious to him now, and as the branch started to come loose, he realised how easy it was to snuff out his life. Humans were so, so fragile, just a single well placed strike from a monster can dismember them, or cripple them, or smash their ribcage to pieces, impaling their organs and giving them an agonising demise. The annoying thing was though, that the monster wouldn't even be the thing that killed him, it would be gravity, that annoying shrew. He desired a glorious death in battle, but gravity aimed to put an end to that, pulling him down to the ground and smashing his bones to pieces. He wouldn't meet his death at the claws of some mighty beast, but from falling. It was the least satisfying end a hunter could ask for, and it made him sick just thinking about it.
Even through his frenzied thoughts, he couldn't help but notice that the Barioth wasn't trying to dislodge him. It was just standing there, looking down at him with what he was startled to realise was curiosity. The monster was as curious about him as he was about it, and like he had done, it was eagerly examining him. This proud beast was interested in him? Why? That made no sense. It was bigger than him, faster than him, and stronger than him, yet it was intrigued about something infinitely weaker than it was. Why the hell was it staring?! Then it hit him…the Barioth was a hunter, and it was looking at another hunter. Hunters tended to do that; examine one another, look at their strength and skill, and marvel at their talent. Even when one hunter is clearly better than another, he is always curious about other hunters he encounters, eager to see what they are made of, to learn of their experiences, to hear tales of monsters they have slain. Even the hunter's mentor, the one who surpassed him in every way, was curious. He'd been just as eager to hear about his apprentice's hunts as he had been to tell about his own. The Barioth was no different; even though it had bested this hunter, it still wanted to examine his strength, learn about his experiences, see what he was made of.
"I guess…you're the better hunter." The hanging man said, before a bitter laugh escaped his lips. The Barioth heard him, but it did not react, still examining him. It truly seemed to have the soul of a hunter. He laughed again, before looking at the branch that was prolonging his life. It was about to snap; he doubted it would hold him for more than ten seconds. It was then that he made a decision: if he was going to die in such an inglorious way, then he would be the one to end it. Gravity would do the work, but it would be his decision. He looked up at the Barioth again, and his gaze hardened. "If I somehow survive this…I'm coming after you again." The beast stopped looking, and something resembling excitement radiated from it. It growled at him, before spreading its wings and flying away. He let out one last bitter laugh, before releasing his grip. Gravity did the rest.
"-"
For the second time in that hunt, in the space of two hours, the hunter woke up in an unknown location. It was surprising that none of his bones had been broken, though to be honest, what was most surprising was that he was even alive at all. He had a thumping headache, but he shook it off, before rising into a sitting position and looking around. He sat on the bank of a frozen lake, at the bottom of the large cliff on which his second battle against the Barioth had taken place. Nearby was a large hole in the ice, which he realised he must've fallen into. That explained why he was soaking wet. Small, foot sized cracks in the ice lead to the riverbank, and he could just barely remember creeping to safety in an adrenaline induced daze. His gunlance and shield lay on the ice a short distance from where he'd landed, miraculously still in one piece. It seemed the fates had decided to grant him a boon: his life. As he shakily got to his feet, he remembered the promise he'd made before falling.
"Wouldn't want to keep a fellow hunter waiting." He said with a wry grin, before going to retrieve his weapons.
"-"
Finding the Barioth's lair wasn't too difficult. The beast was remarkable, but it was still a monster, and all monsters shared some of the same habits. One such habit was the tendency of a ferocious predator to make his home in a cave. There were only a few caves in the tundra, and the hunter went to the one nearest to where their last battle had taken place. The score was currently 2-0 to the Barioth, but the hunter was determined to make a comeback. The smell of blood reached his nostrils as he neared the cave, and he realised the Barioth had been feeding. A dead Popo lay outside the cave, its chest having been ripped open by sabre teeth. Most of the meat was gone, and it was covered with an ungodly amount of blood, a shade of red which spread onto the surrounding snow. Ignoring the grisly sight (Hunters saw worse on a daily basis), the hunter stepped into the cave.
It was quiet, not even the sound of a monster's breathing could be heard. The cave was small, made up of a single chamber with a hole in the ceiling, and there was no sign of the Barioth. Numerous small Giggis had also made the cave their home, and they slithered towards the hunter, sensing new prey. As he calmly dispatched them with a shot of his gun, the hunter looked around for his real target. This was definitely the Barioth's cave, the marks on the Popo's flesh could only have been made by a pair of sabre teeth.
"I know you're here!" He yelled into the empty chamber. "It's me! I'm here to finish this! Come out and fight…" He stopped midsentence, as he detected movement behind him. He instinctively dived forwards, just barely dodging a substantial impact as a large form dived from above. He quickly climbed to his feet and turned around, to see the Barioth hovering in the air. A look of recognition appeared in its eyes, and it roared at him before dropping to the ground. He raised his shield in his typical defensive stance, and waited for the monster to make the first move.
The following battle was frenzied and fast paced, far more so than the last two. In the first battle, the hunter had been taken aback by the monster's speed, and in the second battle, he'd barely been able to guard its attacks. In this battle however, he noticed something: though the Barioth was impossibly fast and frighteningly strong, it still fought in a noticeable pattern. As the battle went on, he slowly learned the pattern, and became better and better at blocking the monster's attacks. What had once been desperate blocks that barely stopped the attack, were now rapid, confident blocks, defending against each blow with ease. Still, the Barioth was no pushover. It relentlessly showered the hunter with fierce attacks, testing his blocking ability to the limit and pushing him further and further back. Roughly five minutes later, the opponents stood facing each other, both utterly exhausted. The monster gained its second wind first however, rushing the human in a wild fury. Its eyes went red, and it charged with a punishing shoulder barge. The hunter had seen this numerous times however, and he knew how to counter. He held down the trigger on his gunlance, causing it to charge up, while using his other hand to block the monster's charge. The attack hit with tremendous force, sending him skidding across the cave. The predator immediately rushed again, but the hunter smirked, before raising his lance. All through the monster's attack, he'd been charging up the Wyvern's Fire, and as it charged again, he roared a furious battle cry, before releasing the fearsome blast right in its face. The sound of the shot was deafening, and the impact knocked the beast flying. It landed on the cave floor a few feet away, one of its sabre teeth smashed and its face covered with blood. And then…there was silence.
The hunter released a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding, and collapsed to his knees. He'd done it…he'd actually stopped the beast. Despite the situation, he laughed, a loud, happy laugh, filled with relief. He honestly hadn't thought he'd be able to do it…but he'd proven himself wrong, along with everybody else who had doubted him. He got to his feet, and quickly chewed on some rations to fight his exhaustion, before stepping over to the beast. The Barioth wasn't moving, and the blood from its head was starting to stain the floor. A single Giggi, the only survivor from the hunter's earlier gunshot, thirstily drank on the blood, only to squeak as the hunter kicked it away. It splattered on a nearby wall, while the hunter knelt down to examine his kill. As soon as he did however, the Barioth's eyes shot open…and they were red.
Its head shot forward, and the hunter darted back to avoid the bite, but the rest of the monster's body quickly moved too. It shot to its feet, before knocking the hunter across the cave with a swing of its tail. He landed in a skid a few feet away, and it roared. The deafening roar made him stop for a moment, and the beast saw its chance. As soon as the roar finished leaving its mouth, a frozen blast followed it. The hunter shook his head, snapping out of the roar induced stupor, before bringing up his shield. He just barely managed to block the freezing blast, though his hands almost went numb as the cold spread across his shield. Frostbite was imminent, and as the cold stabbed into him, a frightened realisation entered the hunter's mind. I have no idea when I last had a heat drink. The last heat drink he'd taken had now worn off, and the cold was assaulting him from all directions. The Barioth seemed to notice his discomfort, and like always, it took advantage of the opportunity, charging forwards with its shoulder. He blocked the attack out of habit, forgetting that his back was against the wall. The attack slammed him against the wall, and he was crushed between the beast's shoulder and the rocky barrier. He felt something break deep inside him, and blood began to pour from his mouth. He ignored it however, letting out a swift stab with his lance, before using the momentum to dodge to the side, just as the beast swiped at his face.
Not only was it good at capitalising on his moments of vulnerability, but it could use the environment to its advantage as well. As the hunter backed away, be began to wonder whether he was actually the smarter combatant here. The beast had outsmarted him time and again, and with that last attack, it had caused him a serious injury. Ignore it. His mind told him, and he shook off all distractions before firing with his gunlance. The Wyvern's Fire was currently recharging, but there was nothing stopping him from using an ordinary shot. He fired, only for the Barioth to dodge with its unnatural speed. How…how can it still be so fast? He mentally wondered as it charged again, and he was forced to parry one of its strikes. He fired again, but even at this range, the beast effortlessly dodged him. While he continued trying to shoot it, he stopped paying attention to its tail, giving the appendage enough time to curl around his feet. He swore, just before the Barioth lifted him off the floor by his feet and flung him into a nearby wall.
The impact was predictably painful, and he bounced off the wall before landing face first on the cave floor. Ignoring the pain however, he got to his feet, right as the Barioth charged again. He'd dropped his weapon and shield as he'd been thrown, but luckily, there was a rock nearby. Using his knowledge of the beast's attack patterns, he easily dodged its swipe, before picking up the rock and smashing it into the monster's face. The predator roared in pain, and he used the opportunity to roll over to his lance. He picked it up, and as the enraged monster turned to him, he shot it in the face. The monster stumbled back, swaying unsteadily on its feet. He saw his opportunity, and charged. Even in this state however, the monster refused to let its guard down, and it suddenly charged forwards with its shoulder. The hunter was knocked off his feet, and he flipped over the beast's shoulder, landing back first on the ground behind it, with his lance next to him. Still in a lot of pain, and still ignoring it, he slowly got to his feet, this time using his lance as support to help his ascent. It took him about ten seconds to stand up, and the whole time, he was wondering why the beast wasn't attacking. That question was answered a few seconds later, as he saw his prey flying away. While he should've been feeling relief, he was surprised to find that his first feeling was anger.
"WHERE ARE YOU GOING?!" He shouted, his voice filled with rage as the monster ascended through the hole in the ceiling. "FIGHT ME YOU COWARD!" The Barioth ignored him, instead continuing its ascent. Not about to lose it now, the hunter dropped his lance, before reaching for a paintball on his belt. He ran forwards, before throwing the ball up at the escaping enemy. Though the Barioth cleared the ceiling, the paintball splattered on its lower body, marking it. Even as it flew away, paint started to drip down, making a trail. The hunter smirked, before falling onto his backside. The beast wouldn't get away, he'd follow it across this entire bloody tundra if he had to. As he took another vial of heat drink to dispel the cold, he began to think.
"-"
He spent the next few minutes getting back into fighting shape with a first aid kit and a mega potion, before tracking the Barioth. The creature was smart, but it seemingly hadn't figured out that it was dripping paint as it flew over the tundra, creating a trail that led the hunter right to it. He found it a fair distance away, near the hunter camp coincidentally. The first sign that he was getting close came when he nearly got trampled by a herd of fleeing Popo. He avoided the woolly herbivores, before heading in the direction that they were coming from. He came to a snowy clearing, devoid of life apart from the Barioth. which was feasting on the corpse of a recently slain Popo. He whistled, and the monster immediately stopped, before turning to him. It growled in anger, clearly annoyed that he had found it.
"Running away? I thought you were better than that." The hunter taunted, as he drew his weapon and shield and stepped closer. The beast eyed him carefully. Its eyes were blue now, but it looked no less fearsome. As he neared, the beast tensed up, and let out a threatening snarl. The hunter stopped, and began to hold down the trigger of his gunlance, charging up another Wyvern's Fire.
To his surprise however, the beast noticed his movement, and charged. It seemed to have learnt the correlation between him pulling the trigger and the gun firing, and was actively trying to stop it. The hunter was impressed, but he supressed it, instead focusing on firing. The beast was too quick however, and its shoulder slammed into him before he could fire. He let go of the trigger, and the Wyvern's Fire stopped charging up, while he was knocked onto his back. The beast charged again, but he got to his feet, before swinging his lance at its face. The beast parried with its claws, but he slammed his shield under its chin, before firing a shot into its face, sending it skidding backwards through the snow. It shook off the attack however, instead flying into the air and letting loose a deafening roar. Unafraid, the hunter prepared to charge the Wyvern's Fire again, only to hear a familiar animal cry. He turned around, to see that a pack of Baggi had arrived. Dammit. The reptiles quickly moved to surround the hunter, and he began to shake, filled with pure rage. How dare they…HOW DARE THEY! He angrily gritted his teeth. This is OUR battle! They have no place here! One of the Baggi charged forwards, only to yelp in pain as the hunter shot it in the face, knocking it flying backwards.
"LEAVE." He bellowed. The Baggi horde paused for a moment, apparently considering obeying his order. That was put to an end when a large shape appeared behind them: a Great Baggi. The hunter swore under his breath as the large, horned reptile stepped forwards, and roared at him. The other Baggi rallied behind their leader, and prepared to attack. Feeling immense frustration, the hunter pointed his gun at them, and started to charge up the Wyvern's Fire. The Great Baggi nodded, and four of its younglings charged forwards. They rushed the human as one, only to be knocked flying as he finished charging his weapon, shooting a massive blast of fire. They were all killed instantly, and they flew across the area, landing in broken husks several feet away. While he'd been killing them however, the hunter had been paying no attention to their leader. Said leader suddenly spat a blob of strange liquid out of its mouth. The hunter was experienced enough to know exactly what this blob was, but he'd spotted it too late to do anything about it. The blob hit him in the face, and the bizarre, clear liquid soaked him. The liquid emitted a strange odour, which began to make him very sleepy. Baggi were known for this liquid, which was capable of putting a person to sleep just by inhaling its aroma. It was why they were more feared than Jaggi, and why hunters always brought energy drinks when venturing into the tundra. The hunter fell to his knees, unable to stop himself from drifting off into the land of slumber. Nonononononononononononono! He mentally shouted, but it did no good. His eyes closed like vices, and he was dead to the world.
"-"
He was awoken an unknown amount of time later as a familiar, deafening roar filled his ears. He opened his eyes, just in time to see a Baggi go for his throat. The reptile was stopped mid attack however, as a sabre tooth stabbed into its neck. The beast only had one tooth left, but it was enough. The Barioth lifted the small reptile off its feet, before tossing it away, leaving its corpse next to the Great Baggi. As the hunter woke up properly, he noticed an ungodly amount of Baggi corpses littering the area. He'd only killed four or five, but it seemed the Barioth had been following his example. It was covered with the Baggi's clear, tranquilising liquid, yet it was still awake. The hunter didn't know if the white predator was resistant to Baggi toxin, or if it was just that determined, but regardless, the beast didn't look even a little tired as it stood in front of the hunter, standing between him and the Baggi horde. Despite the sheer number of corpses, there were still a lot of Baggi, though they were noticeably more apprehensive to charge now that so many of their number had been effortlessly slain.
Even though the hunter was still tired and groggy, the Barioth made no move against him. Two Baggi charged at the human, only to be sent flying with a single swing of the white predator's mighty tail. That's when it hit him: the Barioth was protecting him. He'd been asleep for who knows how long, but the monster had made no move against him, instead just standing there and stopping the Baggi from attacking. But why the hell is it helping me? The hunter wondered as he got to his feet. Once he was stood up, the white predator turned to face him, and the look in its eyes gave him all the answer he needed. It doesn't want anyone else to kill me. The hunter realised, mouth forming a shocked O shape even as the Great Baggi stepped forwards.
The alpha angrily growled at its terrified younglings, before charging the Barioth. The white predator prepared to move, when the hunter moved in front of him. The beast was about to object, when it noticed the hunter's finger was on the trigger of his weapon again. It stayed silent, allowing the hunter to charge the Wyvern's Fire (Which had recharged in the time he'd been asleep) as the Great Baggi rushed him. The mighty reptile was stopped in its tracks however as the Barioth shot an ice cold blast. The Great Baggi's eyes widened as the blast hit, and they stayed wide as it was frozen solid. The hunter smirked, before launching the Wyvern's Fire. The huge blast hit the frozen reptile and blew it apart, utterly shattering it into a number of bloody, frozen shards. The younger Baggi all backed away, while the hunter pointed his lance at them. One of them slowly stepped forwards, before growling. The Barioth apparently took that as a challenge, and immediately charged forwards. The Baggi tried to flee, only to be torn to shred by the great beast's claws and tooth. A few seconds later, little of the predators remained apart from a few pieces and a lot of blood. Now free from interruption, the Barioth turned back to the hunter, an unusual look in his eyes.
"You really want us to finish this don't you?" The hunter asked as he reloaded his gunlance. He was surprised when the great beast barked in response. "Wait…can you understand me?" It barked again, and the hunter damn near dropped his lance. On top of everything else…this monster could actually understand human speech. This…this was unprecedented. Never before had a monster been discovered that could actually understand speech. Before he could think on this further, a sudden gust struck him, and he had to plant his feet firmly into the ground to avoid been blown away. He looked at the Barioth, and realised that the gust had been created by it, as it flew into the sky. The hunter wanted to shout after it, but he couldn't think of anything to say, so he just stood there, watching the white predator fly away.
"-"
It could understand him…it was his intellectual equal…he didn't know what to do. This wasn't covered in the hunter's handbook, that was for damn sure. Hunters didn't feel guilt from slaying so many animals, because they knew that the beasts were feral, and would kill them given half the chance; that was why there were called monsters, and not animals. But this one…it wasn't feral, it was intelligent. Hell, it was probably smarter than him. Nobody said what you had to do when a monster was smart enough to beat you at chess…that had never come up during the training sessions with his mentor. The hunter code stated that if it was dangerous, he had to kill it, and the Barioth was certainly dangerous. If it was this smart though, did that mean he could reason with it? If it could be reasoned with, would killing it be morally right? Hunters didn't usually have a moral compass because everything they fought was bad…but the Barioth…it was different.
His head was filled with muddled thoughts, questions he didn't know the answers to, and suggestions about what to do next. These thoughts persistently stayed even as he followed the paint trail, attempting to track down the creature again. He downed a whole flask of dash juice to make sure he didn't get tired, then ran after the beast as fast as he could. The trail led him all over the tundra, and he fought the Barioth time and again. Each battle ended in a draw, with both of them more injured then when they started. He could use first aid kits and chug down potions…the Barioth couldn't. Each time they faced off, those thoughts dominated his mind, affecting his concentration. He almost died three times in one battle alone because of these thoughts, and they were starting to become a hassle.
After five more battles with the beast, he was utterly exhausted. Even the dash juice couldn't give him enough energy, and he was starting to feel the cold more by the minute as his last heat drink slowly wore off. As he neared the beast again, he decided something. I can't take much more of this…and neither can it. This is it…either I have to talk it down…if I can…or one of us has to die. He followed the paint trail down a cave corridor, leaning against the rocky wall for support as his strength started to give out. He reached a narrow tunnel, and inched his way through, eventually finding himself in what he realised was the Barioth's true lair.
The area was a huge clearing, surrounded on all sides by towering walls of ice. In the middle of the clearing was a large, rocky platform, elevated above the rest of the area. Atop that platform, the Barioth was sleeping. A horde of Baggi surrounded the platform, but the hunter stepped forwards, completely ignoring them. The Baggi growled at him…until they smelt Great Baggi blood on him. Seemingly realising that they were out of their league, the blue reptiles stepped back, allowing the hunter to reach the platform. Without delay, he used a few rocky outcroppings as handholds, and climbed the platform. A few seconds later he stood atop the manmade structure, and saw the Barioth before him. The very second he stepped forward however, the beast awoke, its eyes blood red. It was then that he realised he'd walked into a trap.
The beast had never been asleep, it had just been waiting for him. At some point, it must have figured out that he was using the paint to track it, so it had led him all over the tundra to tire him out, then led him right here, onto a platform from which there was no escape. If he tried to climb down, the Barioth would strike, leaving him either dead, or at the mercy of the Baggi. If he leapt, it was unlikely he'd survive the fall. Even if he did, in his current state, he wouldn't be in any condition to fight off the Baggi horde. As the effect of the hunter's heat drink wore off, he realised the full extent of the beast's plan. It had led him all over the area not just to tire him out, but to make the effect of his heat drink wear off too. He had none left, and now he was trapped up here with the toughest opponent he'd ever faced, slowly freezing to death, in such an injured and tired state that he doubted he'd be able to raise his lance. He'd been mentally defeated, and it was likely that very soon, he'd be physically defeated too. Before the Barioth could attack, he tried to save its life.
"Look, you can understand me, which means you're smart enough to know right from wrong." The beast stopped, a thoughtful look on its face. The hunter took that as an invitation to continue. "What you're doing, attacking innocent people, it's wrong. You're better than this…I'm asking you to stop, because otherwise…I'll have to kill you." The beast's eyes turned blue, and it growled at him. With its hand, it motioned to its broken tooth, and the hunter's eyes widened. "You…you like the fighting…don't you?" The beast barked, and the hunter found himself laughing. "You're just in it for the sport aren't you? You just want a worthy opponent to give you a great battle…and I'm that opponent." The beast's eyes turned red again, and it roared at him. "Heh…alright, if you want a great battle…" He drew his weapon and shield. "…then I'll give you one." The beast growled, before charging. The hunter chuckled, before raising his shield and meeting its charge.
The monster…it was just like him. Well actually…it's like how'd he'd used to be. He'd originally become a hunter because he wanted to fight big monsters. He hadn't been in it for the fame or the money or the glory, but for the sheer thrill of it. For a while, the fun of battle had been all that mattered…until his mentor had started making him feel inferior. He'd come here for the fame and the glory…he'd been fighting the Barioth for the wrong reasons. Now, as the final round of their battle took place, he decided to correct that. The beast was a monster version of himself, smarter maybe, but with a love of battle to match his own, and a sense of honour similar to his own too. It had let him go after the avalanche, it hadn't just killed him when he'd been hanging off the edge of the cliff, it had defended him from the Baggi while he'd been under the effect of their toxin. It wasn't mercy…the beast just wanted to fight him at his best. He fully agreed…what was the point of fighting a worthy opponent if they weren't at 100%? Well the Barioth truly was a worthy opponent, and the hunter was going to give it a battle to remember.
The following fight was one for the history books. Both combatants were tired, but fiercely determined, both had learnt much of each other in the past few hours they'd been fighting, and both were giving it their all. By this point, the hunter had the Barioth's attack pattern memorised, and he was able to block or dodge just about every strike the beast used on him. Similarly, the observant beast had learnt his fighting style, and managed to dodge not only every single one of his shots, but most of his lance attacks too. After a while, the battle became purely instinct, both fighters deflecting or dodging everything the other brought at them and retaliating with their own strikes. The battle started to blend together in a haze of sweat and blood. After what seemed like ten minutes, the hunter was about ready to drop, and the Barioth was charging him again.
He raised his shield, but what had once been so easy for him, was now a great challenge, due to the weariness that filled his body. Despite the aching in his arms however, he managed to block the blow, before delivering a combo of strikes with his lance. The beast dodged them all, before sinking its remaining tooth into his shoulder. That attack wasn't part of the pattern, and he was completely unable to dodge it. He wanted to scream, but he was so tired that absolutely no sound left his mouth. A silent expression of agony appeared on his face, which only intensified as the beast flew into the air, carrying him with its grip on his shoulder. Ignoring the pain, as he always did, the hunter moved his lance behind his back, and held down the trigger. Due to the way he was holding his weapon, the clever Barioth couldn't see that he was charging up the Wyvern Fire, so was completely clueless as the gunlance's barrel pressed against its head. By this time they'd reached a significant altitude, and the Barioth began to free its tooth from his shoulder. To its surprise however, the hunter's free hand grabbed the tooth, keeping it in place. The beast was confused, until it finally noticed that the hunter's finger was on the trigger. The hunter wanted to taunt the monster, but he was still too tired to speak, so he made do with roaring a fierce battle cry as he shot the Wyvern's Fire right in its face. An ear splitting roar left the monster's mouth as its head sustained significant damage. Now seeking to escape, the hunter pulled himself free from the tooth, and fell down to the ground below.
Knowing for a fact that he wouldn't survive the fall in his current state, he decided to improve his chances. He took his last mega potion from his belt, before chugging the whole thing down his throat as he plummeted down towards the platform. The potion healed all his wounds…and then he sustained more wounds as he hit the hard, rocky ground. Now able to speak, the hunter cried out in pain, as all the good work the potion did was undone by the impact. The pain filling his body was almost paralysing, but once again, he ignored it, slowly getting to his feet. As he finally stood up, the Barioth fell from the sky too, landing on the opposite end of the battle arena. Like him, the creature cried out on impact, and like him, the creature ignored the pain and got up, before locking eyes with its opponent. It definitely had the soul of a hunter, without a doubt.
This was it, neither of them could fight anymore…whoever scored the next hit would win. The beast let out one last deafening roar, before charging, still moving at its normal blistering pace, despite its fatigued and heavily injured state. The hunter followed its example, cracking his neck, before rushing the monster. They charged across the arena towards each other…and the hunter decided to do something he'd never tried before. As he neared the beast, he startled it by chucking his shield at it. Having never seen him use this technique before, the beast didn't know what to do, so just stood there as the shield hit it in the mouth, knocking out its last sabre tooth. The beast ignored the pain and the blood pouring from its mouth, but it was too late to do anything, as the hunter leapt towards it. He sailed in the air towards the monster, before stabbing downwards with the lance. As the weapon neared the monster's face, the hunter fired every single shell in his weapon in a concentrated burst. With the Wyvern's Fire available to use, he'd only had to use the multi barrel shot once all night, so the beast wasn't experienced at dodging it…not that it had a chance of dodging at this range anyway. The beast had just enough time to roar in defiance before five shells were fired into it at once. The powerful attack knocked the beast flying. It skimmed across the platform, before landing on the very edge. The hunter landed on his feet, while the Barioth lay a short distance away from him, covered in blood and unmoving.
Not taking any chances (He'd already been fooled into believing this thing was dead once) the hunter walked over to the injured beast. The monster was lying on its back, and was completely soaked with its own blood. The hunter knelt down and pressed his ear against the monster's chest, in an attempt to hear its heartbeat. The beat was there, but was slowing down by the second. The monster was alive…but not for much longer.
"Well…I guessed that's that." The dying beast raised looked up at him, something resembling happiness in its eyes. "I…I win." He chuckled lightly. "You know…I didn't think I'd actually win. I had no regrets…I was fully prepared to die back there." The beast continued to look at him, and he sighed. "You're a worthy adversary, and I just wanted to say…thank you." The monster cocked its head in confusion. "You showed me that I'd gone astray. I came here to battle you for the wrong reasons…I'd forgotten the joys of battling. I…thank you…for showing me what an idiot I was being." He gently patted the predator's head, and was surprised when it weakly purred in response. "You have the soul of a hunter…and the heart of a warrior." The beast barked one last time, before its head went slack. Its heart had stopped. The Barioth was dead.
The hunter sighed, before getting to his feet. Was that…was he crying? No…of course not…it was the sweat. He was sweating from the battle, that was it…of course he wasn't crying. Wiping the tears from his face, the hunter gave his fallen adversary a respectful nod. He considered carving it for resources…but couldn't bring himself to do it. Monsters deserved to be carved…not equals. Thank you…for making me a warrior again. He thought, before turning away from the corpse. As he did so, he noticed the sabre tooth he'd knocked out earlier. He considered leaving it, but he supposed he deserved a souvenir. He was fighting for the right reason again…but taking the tooth was worth it to see the look on his mentor's face. He picked up his shield and smiled, before walking over to the tooth. As he walked, light began to shine over the area, and he looked up just in time to see the sun rise over the horizon. He tucked the tooth into his belt and walked away, leaving the white warrior to bask in the early morning sun.
Yeah…
Based (somewhat) on a true story!
The overall story was based on my own experiences, but I had to change it a bit for the sake of the narrative. The avalanche, the falling off the cliff, the fighting alongside the Barioth against the Baggi horde…they didn't actually happen, for obvious reasons. Most of the other stuff however, is totally true. Fed up of being overshadowed by my awesomely skilled co-op partner (The guy who taught me how to play the game…my mentor…), I decided to fight way above my weight class and go after a Barioth. It was the most challenging battle I've had on the game, but I developed a sort of kinship with the beast, and started to see it as a worthy opponent. Of course I did actually carve it, I mean come on…but I respected the beast, and it's currently my favourite creature in the game. Also the bit about being lured into a trap in its lair as the last heat drink runs out? Totally true. My last heat drink did run out as I fought it for the last time, and I couldn't run off to heal because of the enclosed space. I swear to god the bastard planned it that way. The hero using a gunlance is also true, and the move used to kill the Barioth is the move I used to kill it. I didn't throw my shield and leap at it obviously, but game limitations, you know?
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this epic tale of hunting and rivalry, and I would appreciate it if you reviewed. Please?