This is a fanfiction crossover of Worm and Monster Hunter. I claim no ownership of either property, nor any connection to those who do own them. This work is meant for entertainment only. Any similarities to any people, situations, or properties beyond those mentioned above are purely coincidental.
Chapter One: The Formidable Velocidrome!
I woke to a gentle rocking, and the smell of wet soil. Planks of wood greeted me as I opened my eyes, creaking slightly as the cart moved, just loud enough to hear over the sound of the wheels.
"Pretty ballsy, falling asleep in Pangaea."
I blinked the sleep from my eyes. High hills and deep forests passed by outside the cart, all in shades of green. The sun was high in a cloudless sky, and its reflection sparkled off a nearby stream. Some kelbi were drinking there, distinguishable from deer only by their green coloration, strange horns, and tufted beards. One of them glanced up as the cart rolled by, then flicked an ear and went back to drinking.
"My first time here," I said. "Doesn't seem so bad."
"Yeah, it doesn't look like much. It's... what do you call it..."
I glanced at my traveling companion. She wore a black body suit, armored at the elbows and knees, with a number of black belts, black pouches, and a black cloak with the hood up. It stood out against the pale wood of the cart, and the green landscape beyond it. She looked almost like a shadow. Only her mask broke that impression, and then only because the black metal was shined enough to be reflective. She snapped her fingers a few times, thinking, and the action didn't fit her appearance. Too casual, especially given the mask's stern, disapproving glare.
"Deceptive?" I suggested, smiling at the contrast.
She shrugged and looked away, sending a little ripple through her cloak. "Close enough," she said. "I've been here a few times. Don't let your guard down. There's trouble more times than there isn't."
The cart rattled and bumped, going over a piece of rough ground, probably similar to whatever had woken me up. I sat up, scooting back on the bench and putting my shoulders against the metal bands that curved around the cart, riveted to the wood. Thick, dull, and rust-spotted, but still obviously armor. Another reminder that we weren't in a safe place.
"Haven't slept in a few days," I said. "I should be good now." She didn't respond, and I searched for a name. Failed. "Been a busy week," I added. "Can't remember if we introduced ourselves before."
"We didn't," she told me. "You were already asleep when I boarded at the Boston portal. I'm Shadow Stalker, by the way."
"Hunter," I said.
She cocked her head, far enough to be an obvious affectation. Common, in people that wore a mask long enough. A way to convey emotions when nobody ever saw your face. Curiosity, this time, I thought. "Cape name, real name, or job description?" she asked.
"The first, and maybe the third. I don't give out my real name. Mask stays on," I said, tapping the chain mesh that covered my nose and mouth.
She chuckled. It wasn't a friendly sound, and her mask's expression made it just a bit ominous. I didn't know her power, after all.
"Okay, Mr. mask-stays-on, that's fine by me," she said. "Kinda arrogant though, don't you think? Calling yourself a hunter on your first trip here? Unless you've hunted something back home?"
"Nah," I said. "Maybe it is arrogant."
She waited for a moment, but I didn't add anything. "Whatever," she said. "So, you're headed to Philadelphia too? Answering the call to join the Protectorate's little-league? Not that I really care or anything. Just making conversation. It's been boring as fuck so far, sitting here listening to you snore."
"Sorry," I said. "And yeah, I'm heading to Philly. Guess that makes us teammates."
She chuckled again, the same unfriendly sound. "I don't do teammates," she said. "Not unless someone makes me. I'm in this for me."
"Fair enough," I said.
She tilted her head again. "That all?"
"Sure," I replied. "I don't really care either."
She paused for a moment, maybe thinking, then nodded. "Good. Yeah, I like that. No reason to-"
She was interrupted by a sudden hammer of sound. Heavy, thumping wingbeats and a rush of wind, very close. A huge shadow passed over us, blotting out the sun for a moment, and the cart jerked to an abrupt halt. Shadow Stalker nearly tumbled out of her seat, catching herself with a black-gloved hand against the rusty armor. She reached under the bench and snatched a pair of little crossbows out of a wooden crate, but the sound and shadow were gone as soon as they appeared.
"Shit," she said, tension in her voice. "I told you there's trouble more times than not."
I leaned over the edge of the cart and looked up, past the canvas roof. The sky was clear. "Seems to have passed us by."
"Maybe. Maybe not," she countered, standing up, a crossbow in each hand. "But whatever that was, it was big. I'm gonna go check on the driver, see what's up."
"I'll join you," I said, picking up my sword and shield. I stood, attaching the shield to my arm and sheathing the short, curved sword at my back, just below my waist.
Shadow Stalker paused a moment, looking me up and down, examining my gear. I turned to her and spread my arms, giving her a better view. Helmet, breastplate, and shoulder pads, all made of thick metal, with chain – heavier than the stuff I used for my mask – backing them, and rough blue cloth underneath. My boots and gloves were leather, rugged.
She nodded, then trotted up the length of the cart, weaving around and between stacks of crates and sealed, wooden barrels that filled the admittedly large space between the benches on either side.
I caught up as she brushed past the curtain at the front of the compartment, then followed her up the steps to the driver's bench. He was older than us, probably in his twenties or thirties, wearing armor not much lighter than mine. A huge rifle lay on the seat beside him, drawn and then quickly forgotten. The reason was obvious. The aptonoth that pulled the cart was reared up in its harness, the huge gray beast turning from side to side, it's bladed tail swishing back and forth and its crested head questing, looking at the sky.
"Trouble?" Shadow Stalker asked.
"Rathalos," he said through gritted teeth. His voice was rough, gravely, and he didn't face us, his efforts focused on the reins, striving to get his multi-ton beast of burden under control. I didn't give him good odds, as agitated as the thing looked.
"What's got it so worked up?" I asked.
"I told you, a rathalos," the driver snapped, angry. "Flew right over us, holding a dead calf. Ella must have smelled it or something."
I frowned. Rathalos were bad news. Most capes wouldn't take them on outside of full hunting teams. Too big, too tough, and too quick in the air to pin down easily. They'd become an escalating problem since two thousand and nine, appearing in increasing numbers.
"Is it likely to come back?" I asked. If it did, we wouldn't have much of a chance against it.
"You deaf?" the driver asked. "I said it had a calf, didn't I? It'll be heading back to its nest to eat, not worrying about us. Besides, if it does, I've got its number."
He reached to the side, toward his rifle, and my eyebrows started to rise before I saw what he meant. Beside the rifle, on the edge of the seat, was a wooden box, open-topped, sectioned into squares and filled with small, round objects. He patted the box. "Flash bombs, sonic bombs, and dung bombs. Few of these would send it on its way."
"Wait, you carry shit balls with you?" Shadow Stalker asked, abandoning her survey of the sky to stare at him.
"I do, and you should too," the driver stated. "If you were smart, anyhow. Sight, sound, and smell. Most monsters are too tough to hurt without some serious power on your side, but their senses are as keen as any animal's. Sting 'em a bit, give 'em a nose-full of dung, and they'll turn tail as quick as they're able."
"Well, you do you," Shadow Stalker said, turning away. She took a few steps across the seat, then jumped off the side. Her cloak flared out as her power activated, her body flashing into transparent wisps. She drifted the ten feet to the ground before solidifying again and stalking away.
I made to follow her, then paused and turned back to the driver. "Just out of curiosity, wouldn't Ella be scared by the bombs too?"
The driver stopped his struggle for a moment to squint at me. "Yeah, but at least I can control which direction she goes, and its better than getting your guts ripped out."
"Strong point," I said, and turned away, hopping down after Shadow Stalker.
My armor was heavy. I hit the ground hard, knees bent, but easily took the impact, then straightened up and looked around. Shadow Stalker was already a dozen feet ahead of me, prowling around the side of the cart. I followed, casting a quick glance around us.
When I'd boarded, it had been at the New York station, just inside the portal, and I'd got on from a raised platform. Seeing the cart from the ground, it was huge, close to three times my height, just as wide, and over twice that long. As big as some buildings. It had to weigh ten or fifteen tons, and its wheels were appropriately sized in comparison, massive structures of wood and metal taller than I was. Even with the bushes and knee-high grass all around us, I could tell they left impressively deep ruts in the earth.
Ella, too, was impressive when seen from ground-level. Almost as long as the cart, she had to be ten feet at the shoulder, with a narrow ridge running down her back that added another foot or two to her height. Reared up as she was, she had to be over fifteen feet high.
I caught up to Shadow Stalker quickly, and she cast a look at me over her shoulder, her mask and general bearing making it just shy of hostile. "You need something?" she asked.
"Not really," I said, falling into step beside her. We finished our circle of the cart – staying well away from Ella – then moved away. Shadow Stalker crouched down, brushing away the grass, then stood up and kept walking.
"I said I don't do the teammate thing," she told me.
"You did."
She glanced at me again, then snorted. "Whatever," she said, then pointed toward something ahead of us. "Look."
I did, and saw what she meant almost immediately. Faint impressions in the dirt, below a small tree. Footprints. Sharp, three-toed, with the occasional scratch that indicated a fourth claw held higher, off the ground.
"Fresh?" I asked.
She nodded. "You can tell by the edges, and the fact that nothing's settled in them yet. If there was grass in them, the color could tell us more. Brighter green, less wilted, fresher print."
"You know what made them?"
She shook her head at that. "No, just that it's probably a predator, and its close. Could be that the rathalos stole its prey, in which case its either dead, or pissed off and still hungry. We should move."
"I'm not sure we can. Not until the driver has Ella settled," I said. I stood under the tree, hands on my hips, looking around. Taking in the terrain. "We could hunt it," I suggested. "By the tracks, its not too big, and there's two of us. Two capes against one small monster. Good odds."
Shadow Stalker stopped, then turned to face me full on. She looked me up and down again, appraising.
"Ballsy," she said. "Or stupid."
"I'd prefer to think I'm not stupid," I told her.
She snorted. "Alright. You want to hunt, let's hunt. I could use the workout." She tilted her head. Considering, this time, rather than curious. "Plus, I get to see if my future teammate can fight."
"I thought you didn't do the teammate thing."
"I can make exceptions," she said, turning on her heel, her cloak flaring out around her. She cast a look at me over her shoulder. "For sufficiently ballsy individuals."
I felt my lips tug up into a smile, and my heartbeat sped up. It had been a while since I'd been in a fight. "I'll do my best not to disappoint."
"Good," she said. "Try to keep up."
With that, she took two steps and jumped, flashing into a transparent shadow, her leap extending far beyond what should have been possible. I took off after her, speeding up, my armor brushing against the tall grass, swishing it away.
I caught up to her quickly, and she glanced toward me, her mask barely visible in her altered state, translucent. She changed back, hit the ground, and ran beside me, before jumping and shifting again. Her cloak caught the wind, pulling her forward in her wispy state, her head tracking back and forth. She saw something and angled her cloak, changing direction to land beside it. She crouched for an instant, then took to the air again in another long leap.
I passed the spot a moment later and saw what had caught her eye. More footprints. Fresher. She'd seen them from the air, followed them.
Impressive.
We continued like that for a few minutes, and I left the tracking to her, devoting my effort to not falling behind, and keeping my ears and nose open for any surprises. We passed a small copse of trees, jumped over the stream I'd seen earlier, and moved through a valley between some hills, finally coming to a stop in sight of a small watering hole.
"You're quick," Shadow Stalker whispered as I crouched down beside her, hidden in the grass. She reached out to tap my armor. "Especially with all this."
I nodded, but didn't respond, focusing on catching my breath.
"Down there," she said, nodding toward the watering hole. No, beyond it. There was a blue shape there, in the grass. Striped with black, it was surprisingly hard to see. It lay in a slight depression, and for a moment I thought it might be dead, possibly killed by the rathalos. Then it raised its head, scenting the air.
"Crap, we're upwind," Shadow Stalker muttered as it stood up.
"Well, we came to hunt it in the first place," I said, my voice low.
"Suppose you're right," she said, leaning forward. "You want to go in first, or follow my lead?"
"I'll go," I said, standing up and striding forward.
The monster saw me right away, its head snapping into line, eyes focused. It was a slender thing, but not as small as I'd thought. Taller than I was, with a long neck and tail, it held itself almost like a bird. Upright on its hind legs, its forelegs close to its body. Its underside was pale, and it had what looked like a beak, bright yellow. It's head was topped with a swept-back crest, shockingly red, almost like blood.
I saw all that in passing, though. As it started toward me, darting forward in quick hops, what really attracted my attention was its claws. The ones on its forelegs were long, thin, and red, meant for grabbing or slashing. The ones on its feet, when I could see them around the grass, were shorter, except for the innermost, which was long and wickedly curved. The way it jumped, so quickly and easily, that was going to be dangerous.
It rounded the watering hole, crouched down, and uttered a warbling cry, half chirp and half shriek. Then it leapt. It caught me off-guard, the speed of it, and the length of the jump. It had to be at least fifty feet. But that distance gave me a moment to act. I raised my shield, whipped my free hand to my back, and drew my sword, slashing forward in the same motion.
The monster made contact, I didn't. Claws hammered into my shield. Even braced, the impact took me off my feet, and I tumbled backward. I hit the ground hard and rolled once, twice, catching brief, flashing moments of movement as the thing advanced, beak wide and full of thin, needle-like teeth. I scrambled to get my feet under me and sprung upward, my sword leading the way.
It hopped backward, fast enough that my sword caught only air, and the lack of expected impact sent me stumbling. I caught myself and took a stance, sword at my side, shield slightly forward.
The monster shuffled to one side, then the other, quick steps, head bobbing as it looked at me with wide yellow eyes. It made it look even more bird-like. It opened its mouth and let out a rattling sound, its throat vibrating, then started pacing around me with careful, delicate steps. Observing, waiting for me to make a move.
I obliged it, bursting into a run, straight toward it. Risky. It was taller than me, faster, with longer limbs and better reach. If I went high it could come at me from below with its sickle-like talons, and if I went low it could come from above with claws and teeth, and it could almost certainly take a hit better than I could.
If I'd been alone, it would have been a stupid move.
Shadow Stalker ghosted in from behind the monster, nearly transparent, not even disturbing the grass as she moved. She raised her arms, dead silent, and two crossbow bolts flashed out, black streaks that materialized halfway into the creature's flank.
It spun with a shriek, high-pitched, a sound of almost comical shock, and I barely held in a laugh as I barreled into it sword-first and slashing. My first strike knocked its arm away and chipped a claw, my second took it at the base of the neck, drawing blood. Then we collided, and I braced my shield against it, heaving. It was big, but I was strong, and it toppled. I followed it down, aiming for the head.
It was the wrong move. The monster was too quick, too agile. Even as it fell one of its feet lashed out, and I couldn't get my shield into place in time. Its wicked claw took me in the chest, and metal shrieked, drowning out the whoof of air as it knocked the breath out of me.
The next thing I knew I was on the ground coughing. I'd never taken a hit that hard before. Hadn't braced right, hadn't rolled with it. But, shockingly, it didn't hurt, at least not enough to feel through the adrenaline that rushed through me as the monster vaulted to its feet, light as a bird. It started forward, and I might have just imagined it, but I thought its eyes widened in surprise as I vaulted upright almost as quickly, and this time I couldn't hold in my laugh.
"Come on!" I taunted, holding my arms out, leaving myself open. Those wide yellow eyes narrowed, slit-pupils contracting, and it rattled out another hiss, throat vibrating. "Come on buddy! It's all for you!"
It didn't take the invitation. Either it was too clever, or something gave her away, because as Shadow Stalker moved to take advantage of my distraction, the thing spun, its tail whipping into her – through her – and even in her shadowy state she tumbled to the ground, a choked sound coming from behind her mask.
I rushed forward without thinking, feet pounding at the ground, and before the monster could round on me again I leapt, sword-arm swinging, and brought my blade down as hard as I could, taking it high in the leg.
Scales parted, blood flowed, but despite taking the heaviest swing I could manage, the cut was still shallow. The thing was tough. Far tougher than something so slender should be. But tough or not, it was still light. It went down again.
This time I didn't try to go to the mat with it. I took two quick, shuffling steps forward and intercepted a kick with my shield. It stopped my momentum cold, even pushed me back a few inches, but that didn't matter. I was inside its guard now, and my sword flashed out once, twice, three times, drawing blood from its stomach, its leg, and its tail.
Black streaks came in from behind it. Shadow Stalker, peppering its back and head with a series of one-two shots, as quick as she could reload. They sunk in far deeper than my sword could, deeper than such little crossbows should have been able to manage, but I wasn't going to complain, especially not when one of them darkened an eye, turning the yellow orb red.
With that, I saw the end of the fight.
I gave a quick shout and slashed at its arm, then planted my shield on the writhing creature and vaulted over it, to the side Shadow Stalker had just blinded. It was still quick, even hurt as it was, and it was on its feet almost instantly, spinning around, doing its best not to let me out of its sight. But I'd been expecting it, and I was ready. My eyes snapped to its neck, where I'd cut it before. Blood was trickling out from the shallow wound, staining its pale throat, and in the brief moment where it didn't know where I was, I aimed there again.
A cut, using its own momentum added to my strength. For the first time, my blade bit deep. The monster shrieked, but not in anger. This time the sound was panicked and wet.
After that, it was over. It collapsed, blood pumping from its throat. Its movements slowed, then weakened, and quickly stopped.
I stood there, panting, watching it until it stilled. Then my eyes searched for Shadow Stalker. She was sitting up, one hand pressed to her chest, the other supporting her as she leaned forward, head hanging. I trotted over to her. Her cloak was stained in places, green and brown. Crushed grass and mud, the smells sharp and obvious. But no blood.
"You alright?" I asked. "Need first aid?"
"Fuck off, I'm fine," she said, her voice raspy. She took her hand away from her chest, waving me off. I took a step back.
"It looked bad, when its tail got you," I said.
"I thought the same, when it kicked you," she said.
I shrugged. "I'm tough."
"Yeah, no kidding," she said, looking up at me. I straightened up and spread my arms. "I said fuck off, I'm not checking you out," she snapped, then climbed to her feet, wavering and unsteady.
"Didn't think you were," I told her. "Figured you wanted to see if I was hurt."
"I didn't," she said. She took a moment to roll her shoulders, then moved her head from side to side.
"You sure you're alright?" I asked.
"Positive," she said. "I've been hit harder."
"Huh. That's a bit impressive."
She snorted, then stalked past me, toward the dead monster. "A velocidrome," she said. "We were lucky. They're not usually alone."
Belatedly, I remembered reading about them. Pack hunters. The smaller ones that the big one lead were called velociprey. They primarily hunted aptonoth. Which meant it was probably a good thing we'd taken it down.
"Maybe the rathalos scared them? Scattered the pack?" I suggested, coming to stand beside her.
"Yeah, probably. Either way, we'll need proof of a kill if we want to collect a bounty," she said, then glanced at my sword, still dripping blood. "Think you can take its head off with that thing?"
"Not sure," I said, holding up my blade and eyeing it. "It didn't cut nearly as well as I was expecting."
Shadow Stalker snorted. "Worked pretty good, I thought. These things are supposed to have scales harder than steel."
"I know," I said. "Still expected more. It's part of my power. Things I make are... better, I guess. If I meet the right conditions."
"Huh," she said. "I pegged you for a brute, the way you took those hits. You saying you're a tinker?"
"I'm both," I explained. "And more. You know what cluster triggers are?"
"Ah, got it," she said.
"I've got strength, toughness, enhanced senses, and a tinker power that lets me make things from stuff I loot after a fight," I continued. "I made the sword and shield from armor I took off a villain. They're stronger and sharper than they should be."
"Okay, don't care," she said, then paused and turned to me. "Wait, you fought a villain? You said you'd never been in a fight."
"I said I'd never hunted anything," I corrected her. "I've been in tons of fights."
"Oh my god, fucking really?" she asked. "Fucking... what's the word..."
"Semantics?" I asked, grinning.
"Oh fuck off!" she said, swinging a punch at my arm. She hit surprisingly hard, and didn't flinch, despite my armor.
"Impressive," I said.
"Fuck off a hundred times," she said, flipping me off, but I could hear the smile in her voice.
I couldn't help it, I laughed again. She stared at me, and I shrugged. "We won," I said, gesturing to the dead velocidrome. "We killed a monster. What can I say? I'm happy."
"You're an asshole when you're happy, you know that?"
"I do."
She turned away and shook her head, exasperated. Then she stopped, turned back to me.
"Okay, just thinking out loud here, but you say you can make stuff from stuff you win in a fight, right?" she asked.
"More or less," I said. "There's conditions."
"Yeah yeah, whatever. Listen, we just fought that thing, and won, right?" she said, gesturing at the monster.
My eyes went wide.
"Holy shit. We did," I said.
"And like, it's scales are harder than steel, so-"
"I get it! Move!" I said, stepping past her. She kicked my ankle as I passed, but I ignored her and crouched down. I dropped my sword, hands hovering above the creature's scales, darting and touching. I pinched at them, then reached out for a limp arm, leaned in to examine the claws.
"Yeah," I whispered. "Yeah, this could work. Keep watch, cover me."
"I don't follow your fucking orders," she said, but I barely heard her. I had my utility knife out, already prying and scraping.
"The crest is strong," I muttered. "Horn, almost. Dense scales, fused? Maybe. Hide under the scales is almost as tough as they are, but it's pliable. Supple. Holy shit."
I started cutting, putting my weight into it, sawing at the barely dead flesh.
"Wait, you're doing it here? Now?" Shadow Stalker asked.
"Best time. Like I said, conditions. Fuck, I wish I had my smelter."
"It's like, scales and shit," she said. "What are you gonna smelt?"
"This," I said, tapping my sword where it lay on the ground beside me. "Conditions. Works best if I improve, rather than replace. Takes less material. I get more out of it. Whatever, I'll make do. Cold-hammer it."
"Whatever," she muttered, turning away. "Do your thing, I guess. I'll keep watch."
"Thanks," I said, and got to work. I lost myself in it, cutting, hammering. Hide and scales, peeled off and stretched. Claws cut, trimmed. Glue made from the tendons and bones, ground down and mixed with water. I barely knew what I was doing. Had no idea how long it took.
Eventually I sat back, a silly grin on my face, surrounded by my tools and a mess of discarded parts.
"Done," I stated, holding up my work. A sword and shield, still, but more than they had been. Blue striped with black, hide and scales, for the body of both, stretched over metal and wood. Pale hide from the belly for the grips. Red claws tipped the edge of the shield, and the blade of the sword was bright crimson, made from the sharpened crest.
They were jagged, almost primitive to look at. Made with improvised techniques in bad conditions. But I knew they were strong.
"That fast?" Shadow Stalker asked, stepping over to me.
"I guess so," I said. "How long was I at it?"
"Like, fifteen minutes," she said. "Doesn't tinker shit usually take a lot of work?"
"Condi-"
"Fuck off!" she said, swinging another punch at my shoulder. "Say conditions one more time, I dare you."
"You asked," I pointed out.
She ignored me, turning to the mangled remains. "What're we gonna take for proof of kill?" she asked.
"What's left of the head, maybe?" I suggested, hefting my sword. "Might as well test this out."
"Go for it," she said.
It wasn't easy. My blade was lighter now, sharper, but the monster's flesh was still iron-hard, and it took a few minutes of hacking to get through muscle and bone, even as thin as it was.
"I wish we had more time," I said as I stood up, the severed head gripped in my hand. "I could do a lot more here."
"Yeah, well, we don't," Shadow Stalker said. "The cart's gonna be moving soon, if it's not already, and it won't be long before something else nasty smells the blood and comes looking for a free meal."
"Yeah, you're right. I know," I said. "Just wishful thinking."
"C'mon, let's go," she said, turning and starting to walk away.
"Yeah," I repeated, moving to follow her. I stopped for a moment, looking back at the carcass. "Next time, though."
"Sure," she said. "Next time."