Story Plot Outline
This is a story that I want to create merely due to the fact that I thought that it was an interesting unexplored perspective of the show.
The names are mainly original, and the storyline somewhat follows the actually storyline. This takes place before the slasher's meet during the time where Clare meets Raki.
This is my first fan fiction so enjoy:)
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter one : Fated Crossroads
Osrik was tired, "why don't people build these towns closer?" he thought as a branches scratched at his face and torso.
The sunlight filtered through the canopy lighting up the narrow path he was following, and the occasional birdsong echoed among the trees
He listened to the sounds of nature as he walked, but that did little to ease his journey as he trudged along the path through the woods to his destination.
By his calculations he had been travelling for 4 days at a near continuous non stop pace, and now had only a few hours before reaching his destination.
His breath had shortened into pants as he quickly moved through the underbrush doing his best to avoid low lying branches.
Sweat had plastered his usually spiky, light almond hair to his forehead, and his black cloak was dirty with dust and grit.
Now he would never consider himself a slouch, but even so it boggled his mind as to how his peers could do this kind of trek routinely.
This was his first time meeting the claymore he would be working with for his job from now on, and he was starting to get nervous of the meeting.
On his way there Osrik wondered what kind of personality the warrior had; he had seen various different types when he started his training in the organizations headquarters, Staff.
When he had first arrived to start his training he was utterly shocked at the horrible processes the warriors were subjected to prior to getting their swords, the brutal training they all had to undergo.
The transmogrification he had been present to however, had to be the single most horrifying thing he had ever witnessed in his life.
The tormented wails and gruesome sights on that day would haunt him forever, he suppressed a shudder when he recalled the memory.
As a result of this process and their training most warriors were rather emotionless and lacked the skill or desire for conversation.
Even so despite their somewhat twisted emotion set, they were by far the best hope for humanity against yoma thus far,…for a price.
And if their method saved lives then Osrik could at least try to cope with whatever personality that this warrior possessed.
He then returned his attention to the path and noticed what looked to be a clearing up ahead, glad to be getting out of the branchy wood.
As he passed into an open field he inhaled deeply and cast his emerald green eyes over his surroundings.
It was then that Osrik noticed the farmhouses and fields in the distance, the wheat swaying in the distance.
A warm breeze kissed his face as he walked into the field, and the sky was bright and unclouded.
As he strolled through the field he noted that many of the fields were untended, weeds choking the crops.
The dirt path he was using also looked fairly unused with no other track or prints present.
This he attributed to the change in seasons that would be occurring soon, along with the reason he was here.
Another was the notable lack of farmers, or any other travelers for that matter in all directions.
This merely confirmed what he had been told during his briefing, apparently a yoma had been terrorizing this area and devouring the inhabitants .
As he reached the end of the field he finally saw a woman who was coming towards him from the other side of the road.
When he walked closer he noticed that she was crawling across the road at a desperate pace, with a twisted ankle slowing her.
He ran over and asked of she needed some help, she looked up and looked at him with a tear streaked face and a look of fear in her eyes.
"Our house...our house was attacked by a yoma...he killed my family...I ran away while he was eating though".
Suddenly a peculiar feeling washed over Osrik, like the feeling of dread you get when witnessing an accident as it is about to occur.
Afterwards she simply collapsed on the side of the road and sobbed, exhausted from her escape, while Osrik was getting a grasp on the situation.
Just then, a figure came from the direction the woman had ran from, he quickly reached into his cloak grabbing something.
Once the figure was close enough to distinguish, a sigh escaped his lips and he allowed himself to relax a bit.
The claymore approached the two with a look of worry on her face, "are you two alright?" she asked.
Osrik was quick to answer "Yes, we're fine this woman's home was attacked by a yoma nearby...", he froze as he noticed the woman's symbol.
As one of the organization's men he recognized most of the symbols as they had been drilled in to his head during training.
The symbol this one wore was completely alien to him, the fact that only one warrior was assigned to each region deepened his suspicion.
A new wave of horror rolled over him as the realization hit,...this woman wasn't one of theirs.
He quickly reached into his cloak for his weapon, but the yoma reacted upon seeing this.
After shedding its facade, it disappeared from sight in a blink, reappearing in front of Osrik.
It rushed him and swiped at hid midsection with its claws intending to rip him in half.
Osrik barely managed to deflect the blow with his hidden weapon but he left himself open by doing so.
It then proceeded to deliver a backhand swat which knocked the man backwards many feet and on his back.
Pain exploded in Osrik's mind as he watched from the corner of his eye, while his death closed in on him .
The Yoma had bright greenish-grey skin and was about three feet taller than he was.
I had sharp pointed claw-like fingers at the end of each of its arms, and several rows of pointed teeth it now wore in a viscous leer.
As it strolled over to where he lay it started speaking, "So you managed to figure out who I was eh? Pretty good, I guess that's why you''re a black coat" it remarked.
Osrik struggled to get up, as he did so he thought of the options that were available to him, run or fight.
He decided to fight, after all he knew better than most people how fast a yoma was.
It would be fruitless to run in that case, so fighting was the only choice left to him.
He wasn't vainly thinking he could win, he knew that against a yoma he would stand little to no chance of victory,
Even so, however, he would never lie down and allow himself to be eaten alive by this thing.
He managed to prop himself back into a standing position, blood trickled down his forehead as he stood.
Now noticing the poor woman, who would most certainly be the yoma's next meal, Osrik desperately tried to think of a solution.
"Well well, gonna try and run away from me little man" the yoma stated bemused.
An idea dawned on him, if the yoma was out in its real form it must be emitting yoki(the energy they used to strengthen themselves).
And if that were true then the organization's warrior in this region might be here soon to slay the beast, after sensing its presence.
It was a long shot, Osrik thought grimly, but it would have to do for now.
He reached into his cloak and produced what appeared to be a scythe with a chain attached to it, brandishing it against the beast.
The yoma howled with laughter as it saw what he was doing "So you're going to try and kill me now puny human? Well give it your best shot".
With that it started slowly walking towards him again, a look of feral glee across its face.
When the yoma was about 5 feet away, it lunged towards him its claws extended in a forward swipe.
Osrik quickly dived to the side, but not before sustaining deep cuts to his shoulder from the yoma's claws 'Too fast' he thought.
The manoeuvre had cost him, but also presented him with the opportunity he had been looking for.
While the yoma had struck it had left an opening under its armpit while the arm was outstretched.
He took this opportunity to roll into a crouching position, and twirl his scythe on a chain that it was attached to in order to build up momentum.
Swinging his scythe in an in a small arc, he struck and carved a strip of flesh out of the yoma's abdomen.
" You bastard that hurt!!!" roared the yoma, obviously furious that he had been wounded at Osrik's hands.
It lashed out jumping into the air to perform an aerial attack.
Seeing this he immediately rolled to one side, noticing the large hole from the impact where he had been standing
"Not bad" the yoma admitted, "...but not good enough, human" the yoma said before grinning.
For and instant it disappeared, and immediately reappeared a foot in front of him.
Before he could move the yoma grabbed Osrik by the throat and lifted up, holding him inches from the front of its face.
The constriction to his windpipe didn't really bother him as much as the fact that it was still smiling at him.
"I hope you enjoyed that because now I'm gonna kill you and stuff my face with your guts!" the yoma spat, the veins on its head bulging.
It then held him out at arms length, his feet kicking at the ground as the yoma lifted it's other arm to deliver the deathblow.
As he pulled in vain at an attempt to loosen his opponents grip, Osrik hoped that the time he bought served a purpose.
Suddenly a flash of silver and white flickered in his red-rimmed vision, then a metallic ring echoed in the field.
He then found himself on the ground, alive and in one piece.
The yoma's claw like hand was still wrapped around his neck but was cut off at the elbow, a pool of purplish blood poured steadily from it.
Osrik looked over to the yoma, whose head now lay a short distance from his body, a look of genuine surprise etched on his face.
It was then that he noticed the figure standing by the yoma, clad in a white form fitting suit with armour at the waist and shoulders.
But what caught his eye was the massive sword she carried, half as large as he was tall and now coated with the same purplish viscous liquid.
With a fluid motion she flicked the blood from her blade, and proceeded to sheath it in the holder on her back.
Gingerly noting each instance of pain he rose to meet the new warrior.
Mindful of the yoma's ersatz claymore disguise he approached the warrior with caution, noting her symbol carefully.
She looked at him and Osrik noted for the first time her appearance, it surprised him.
She seemed far more human than he had expected and far more attractive for that matter.
She stood roughly equal in height to him, with shoulder length pale greyish blond hair covering a somewhat large forehead.
He also became aware of the look in her eyes, he felt she possessed more presence of mind than many people he knew.
He straightened and stood 4 feet away from her when he spoke his chained scythe in his hand.
He first needed to test to see if this was the actually warrior of this area, "My name is Osrik, one of the organizations men, your name and rank warrior?"
The warrior turned towards him and shot him a look that could have frozen water, paused for a moment then stated "Organization Number 6 Miria".
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Starting from the second chapter onwards I will also use these section dividers to denote changes in perspective.
I will try to update as often as possible, and any constructive reviews would greatly help
I hope you all enjoyed the piece, please R&R.