She was a decent hunter, she thought. Not great- not the kind bards would sing songs of, not the kind that could save this little village from the mighty Lagiacrus which tormented it, not yet. But 'yet' was the key word there. She was being helpful. The villagers were being patient with her; they thought she had potential, and she owed it to them to trust their instincts. Which was all very well and good, except for the fact that she was rapidly running out of missions. She'd thought them stupid- baby steps, the villagers had cried- but she would give anything to return to them now. She could be a professional mushroom gatherer, mighty hunter of fungi- anything, anything, but this, not this.
It had looked so simple at first. A cook needed high quality food; monster guts were tasty. Why the cook's ridiculously rich master couldn't find someone else to get it, she didn't know- they were in a fishing village, for goodness' sake- but it would be good practice, the guild representative cried. The hunter didn't see why the girl was so popular in the village (though it was it was probably a good thing, seeing as that popularity just might be the only thing standing between the girl and a fist in the face). Seriously, saying it was a simple task was just begging for trouble, especially when it involved water. Nothing involving water ever went according to plan. Ever.
No, seriously! She'd been squeamish enough on her last task, and that had only been fishing. She hadn't even needed to get in the water. She knew there was no avoiding this- the monstrous beast that tormented Moga was a sea creature, after all- but truth be told, even the fishing harpoon strapped to her back made her fidgety and nervous. Give her hordes of Jaggi, with their wickedly curved claws and raptor-like agility. Give her the Jaggia, larger and far more aggressive, or even one of the Greats, for that matter. She'd take an alpha over this. Because, while she wasn't going to be admitting it any time in the near future, the hero of the fishing village of Moga was afraid of water.
Now, in her defense, it wasn't a huge deal. It wasn't a phobia or anything, wasn't really the water itself that made her skin crawl. It was something about the way she couldn't move right, that her agile ducks and rolls didn't quite work the same. Or else it was the addition of a new dimension, her inability to see behind her and below her and above her all at once. She was already sensitive (paranoid, the cynical part of her muttered) about seeing behind her, she didn't even want to know what the third dimension would do to her psyche, but, well… That skittish (paranoid) part of her was no match for the arrogant one that didn't know failure, and so she'd bragged and blustered her way through until she was standing on the shore overlooking the clear waters of the cove.
Which wasn't that bad, really, when she thought about it. Visibility was good, and she could see the beasts she was to be hunting (Epioth, the guild girl oh-so-helpfully provided) seemed docile enough, their graceful necks extending above the water in plain sight. Really, it shouldn't be a problem- they were herbivores, for goodness' sake, incapable of fighting back. Then why was she standing here, restlessly shifting her weight from foot to foot, clutching her dual bone daggers until her knuckles burned white? Seriously, this was just embarrassing- she better hope the girl from the guild wasn't watching right now, that fear certainly wouldn't be good for business.
Taking a few deep breaths and forcing herself to lighten her grip on her weapon, she inched forward, testing the water with the tip of a leather-clad toe. Which really doesn't help, since now she's thinking of the affect the salty seawater will have on her armor and how the dead weight will just drag her down, down, and how no amount of airweed will save her from her watery doom- uh. Ahem. Determined to clear her head and more than a little upset with her cowardice, she flung herself forward, hugging her blades tight to her body as she dove in.
For a few terrifying moments she can't orient herself, swinging herself around until she's at least upright in the water. She wants to gasp and choke for air but that obviously isn't going to work. She knows she can hold her breath for a ridiculous amount of time, it's a basic requirement to become even the lowest of hunters, but she jammed a stalk of airweed in her mouth anyway, chewing it to release the oxygen bubbles trapped within and sooth her frightened mind. She allowed herself a few moments of precious oxygen just to rest and get her bearings, but she couldn't put it off forever, and soon she was working her way forward, toward the nearest one of the creatures though her eyes moved constantly, determined not to miss a single living thing. She let herself drift toward the beast, feet lazily kicking her forward, until she was so close to its back she could reach out and touch its slimy hide. She cringed away slightly despite herself, reaching with one of her swords almost gingerly, before...
The sound that reached her wasn't exactly the mighty roar she had been expecting, but that hardly matter. She lashed out once, twice, thrice, her arms moving so painfully slow, fighting against the resistance of the water, and then she was scrambling away, flailing, desperate, heaving herself from the water to collapse panting on the beach. She could hear the quiet laughter of the guild girl but ignored it resolutely, not even deigning to give the other a glare before she rolled over, sliding once more into the water.
None of the other monsters seemed inclined to fight back; none of them had even appeared to notice, other than swimming in a general direction away from the blooming crimson of their former companion. Well, alright, she could deal with that. A few prods of her blade determined that her original target was well and truly dead; with much reluctance she sheathed her weapons, drawing her fishing spear and prodding the beast in its stomach. Her nose wrinkled in distaste as she took a steadying breath, and… there, see? That wasn't too terrible. The required items were flung unceremoniously toward the guild girl (the hunter taking no small amount of pleasure at the girl's disgusted shriek) before she was moving on with a satisfied grin. One down, two to go- she might just do it, after all.
She had just finished carving up her second Epioth when something changed. Though she'd started to relax, at least a little, but she still hadn't quite lost that paranoid hypervigilance. When another monster appeared near the edge of her vision she froze, peering at it warily, unsure of what it was. It had a similar curving neck, flipper like appendages. For a few moments she thought it was just a particularly large specimen, an alpha Epioth, maybe, and she almost- almost- resolved to simply keep her distance and turn away in dismissal. But then she noticed it approaching one of the slow, lumbering (could you lumber underwater? some aquatic equivalent, in any case) herbivores. Reasonable enough, she supposed, though this new beast was much larger than she had first realized- and then in one swift movement it tore out the sea beast's throat.
Her eyes widened; slowly, slowly, she backed away from her most recent kill, her hands groping blindly behind her, hoping to find the rocky shore and getting only water. She risked a glance behind her to check- it was far, frighteningly so, but just maybe she could make it- but by the time she turned back around the beast was closer. Much closer. The speed at which the monster was moving must have been frightening, and she backed up a little faster, still facing the creature, trying to be at least a little subtle in her paddling. Her chest heaved, lungs burning, and, cringing, she broke the surface to take a breath- and in doing so she must have alerted the monster, for it looked straight at her with its beady little eyes (of course they were tiny and red, they were always tiny and red) and let out a great, bubbling, bellowing roar.
And then it charged, and its movements of before were a casual stroll because she had barely begun to move and it was already behind her, on top of her, its great bulk wrapping around her as its teeth snapped and its muscles writhed in an attempt to crush her. She tried to dodge, tried to twist back toward the service, but it knocks her down, smashing her against the bottom in an explosion of bubbles and lost precious oxygen. She's scrambling, flailing, beaten and battered and finally, finally, there's a rock wall behind her (she hopes it's behind her, it might as well be below or even above, seeing as up and left and down and right have no meaning anymore) and finally she's able to haul herself onto land, scurrying backwards on hands and knees, collapsing into a wet, aching, shivering mess on the rocks.
The girl from the guild is not laughing now. She can hear the other's frightened screech, and the hunter turns, confused- it shouldn't be that far away, there's only one beach- but then she notices that she isn't on the beach at all. She's managed to haul herself up onto an island, adrift in the middle of the cove, with no way to return to the village by land. The guild sweetheart is screaming, "That's it! The Lagiacrus!" and "Don't fight it, you aren't any match yet!" Which, well, duh, she wasn't exactly planning on throwing herself into its jaws, but she doesn't have the energy to snap back at the girl. She doesn't have the energy to do much, really, but huddle in the center of her island and watch the water intensely.
She draws her blades, resolute though she knows she can't win, as the Lord of the Sea presses close to her tiny refuge, its great head emerging from the water to lie on the very edge. But, to her infinite relief, the beast doesn't seem inclined toward climbing out. Either it isn't a land-faring creature (which would suck, hunting it later) or it didn't think her a big enough snack to be worth hauling its bulk onto the island (which is just insulting, really, though she isn't complaining). Whatever the reason, it isn't coming toward her, just glaring at her with baleful, hate-filled eyes. It's deeply frightening, in a way no monster has ever been- there's a fierce, gleaming intelligence in those eyes, but they don't hold the hunger of a predator or the fear or determination of a beast acting in self-defense.
It legitimately hates her.
Which shoots her plan all to hell, really. She had been hoping to wait it out, let it go back to hunting the Epioth while she mixed a few potions and tried to recover. But while a normal animal would lose interest after some time, especially considering there was blood in the water, the Lagiacrus shows no sign of leaving. She gets the distinct feeling it's playing with her, its jaw tense in something of a deep, morbid amusement (is that even possible? It certainly seems so) and for a while they just have a staring contest, fierce, determined, humanly intelligent hunter versus the savage, stubborn, primal cunning of the monster. She hasn't relaxed, far from it, but the raw, splitting panic as left her. The beast gapes a yawn at her, and it feels that maybe, maybe, she just might make it out alive.
And then the spines running along its back glow brilliant blue and it spits a ball of pure electricity straight at her. And it doesn't matter how stubborn and prideful and stoic she might be, she screams, cursing the day the guild sweetheart was born because seriously, did no one feel like telling her that the mighty Lord of the Seas breathed lightning?
She manages to get out alive, somehow. It isn't exactly dignified as she comes limping back to Moga, beaten and battered and looking not unlike a drowned rat, but somehow they all see her as a hero. The village chief tells her that it's a testament to her prowess that she encountered the Sea Lord and got out alive, and she wonders (not for the first time) how many hunters these people have gone through before her. One thing is for sure: she is never, never trusting any of these village idiots with intel. Ever. Again. Simple, her ass.