A Perfect World –
Although the Khezu could not see, its other four senses were augmented to superhuman levels. The immense cave wyvern arched its bulbous head, peering unfathomably into the darkness. It had a highly developed sense of smell, using it to sniff out hapless Kelbi that wanders into its underground lair. The smell today however, was foreign and intrusive, and carried with it the foul stench of death.
Zephyr knew the risks of fighting in a cave. The killer cold could freeze an unprotected man within minutes; any slight sound could bring an avalanche of stalactites crashing to the cave floor, impaling all who linger underneath. However, the prize before him was too much to let go. He and his hunting party of four had entered the Khezu's lair- a vast underground network of caves for 3 whole days, enduring frostbite and the unnatural chill in search of this elusive wyvern. Now, it was within his grasp. Gripping his Lullaby spear, a lance containing a sleeping reagent, Zephyr signaled the other members of his team, Korlash, Baru, and Jhoria, to prepare themselves. The trap he set earlier- Raw meat drugged with alcohol, was attracting the Khezu's attention. He muttered a silent prayer to his pagan god Quetzalcoatl, transfixed in dread awe at the shape of the creature.
Ambling slowly towards the meat, the Khezu sniffed the air, twirling its obscene head in a figure of eight. Zephyr knew the Khezu could smell them, but for all the natural augmentations of the beast, it still didn't recognize their scent. "Ready your bowgun" whispered Zephyr to Jhoria. Jhoria, the only female in their group, was picked by Zephyr for this mission for a few reasons. Out of all the hunters Zephyr had ever met, Jhoria was the most capable one to the day. She was one with her weapon, reloading shells and bullets faster than they flew, and a great supporter. Motionless before, Jhoria placidly loaded lethal piercing shots into the barrel of her bowgun- a Vor Cannon.
The Khezu sniffed the air again. Though the beast had no eyes, Zephyr could see etches of concern in the beast's face. Something had spooked it. Craning its misshapen head towards Baru the swords master, the beast let out a low guttural growl. Zephyr could only stare in horror as the Khezu extended its head slowly towards Baru, the oblong, fleshy maw inches from his head. Time stretched. Seconds became minutes. Minutes became hours. A cold sweat broke over the hunters.
After what seemed like an eternity, the Khezu retracted its head, and began feasting on the drugged meat. Baru let out a large belch of relief. "No! He'll alert the beast!" thought Zephyr. Sure enough, the Khezu, sensing danger, pumped blood through his body, bloating itself in rage. The once placid head exploded in fury and the feral beast pounced for Baru, who ducked for cover. "The alcohol would take sometime to take effect!" "Defensive positions!" bellowed Zephyr. The vile creature now turned his head towards him. Zephyr, seeing Baru injured by the beast, waved his hands and hollered at the Khezu, attempting to draw it away.
As the Khezu changed target and headed for Zephyr, the markswoman Jhoria fixed her eye on the abomination's weak point, its eyeless head. The first shot of the Vor Cannon rang out, impacting the monster with piercing, stinging rounds. Enormous stalactites fell from the cave ceiling and thumped into the cave floor, narrowly missing the dodging hunters. The Khezu was getting sleepier by the moment, but its rage could still easily be felt. In a last ditch attempt to ward off their attacks, the Khezu unleashed an ear-splitting roar that shattered ice and melted eardrums. The cave floor bounced and cracked as the ice broke apart. Zephyr threw his spear into the creature, biting deep into its foul side. The sleeping reagents did their work, and the creature, already weakened by the spiked meat, tumbled to the cave floor, sound asleep. Clambering over to the beast, Zephyr took a long knife and gingerly slit the beast's throat. The vile creature would trouble them no more.
The next day, Zephyr pondered over the events of last night. Even though he had been rewarded with heaps of Khezu Hide and Pale Extract from the carcass of the dead beast, it seemed like an empty victory. They were relentlessly hounded by beasts such as these. Lately even these peaceful Khezu's have been assaulting their village with relentless fervor. Slowly, the hunting parties sent out to engage and thin these beasts would be destroyed, and then the village… They could not hold out any longer. The recent hunting trip had cost them dearly. Baru did not survive the Khezu's acidic drool flooding over him as the beast pounced. Carried back to the village for treatment, Baru died shortly after reaching the village-the acid had melted his lungs. Gasping for air, Zephyr himself saw Baru, his friend and confidante; leave him for the hall of fallen hunters somewhere in the heavens. The recurring thought penetrated his mind- they could not hold out. Even with top hunters such as Jhoria and himself, the village he had grown up in as a child, the heart of his soul would eventually be taken over. Almost all of the hunters had fallen to daily Rathalos ambushes, food was getting scarce, and with Baru's departure, only he, Jhoria and the village chief could stand against the wyverns.
Zephyr immediately called a meeting with the village chief, discussing the horrifying events that were to come. "It is certain, my lord, that if we don't run for the southern gate of Thunder Ridge within two days, the feral velociprey will raze our village to the ground." "Then we must make haste," muttered the disturbed elder. I will organize a caravan with the rest of the villagers, and make for the ridge. You and Jhoria will be free to come with me… "No milord. Should the Wyverns attack you while you guard the caravan, many will certainly fall." I propose that I lead the Wyverns away with a decoy caravan during the day while you leave in the night." The Wyverns would surely attack both, but I will draw most of them away from you." "A sound plan, but on such a dangerous mission, surely Jhoria should accompany you. You will head for nearby Diablos Ridge during the morning, and I will set out for Thunder Ridge during the night." "Agreed. You best take care." And those were Zephyr's parting words.
The sun broke over the peaks of Quetzal as Zephyr packed his belongings, traveling light. He had to leave most of his armor and weapons behind-the caravan would only allow 4 sets. He chose three weapons to take, and donned full velociprey armor. The luck boost and the camouflage allowed him to escape as a velociprey when need be. Jhoria, abandoning her arsenal of bowguns, only picked up one for the journey, a light, Jade Tempest made from plesioth scales, picked for its ammunition versatility. Wearing full velociprey armor for the same reason, Jhoria picked up her small hunting knife, and with a tear in her eye, turned to hug the village chief. The small, ancient hunter grasped her tightly. "Farewell my child." He then turned to weary Zephyr. "Lead them as far away as you can. Don't look back or come for me." Shaking his hand, the village chief whispered: "Take care of my daughter." With that, the caravan, pulled by several tame Apceros, desert beasts bred for survival in the desert of Diablos Ridge, lumbered slowly into the sunset, never to return to the village, that was once their bastion, their home, and their heart.
Looking back on the village, Jhoria buckled her bowgun to her side and fastened more shots preparing for the attack that was to come. Rathian normally woke up early in the afternoon to hunt for their young, and it was already midday. Zephyr was preoccupied with his own thoughts, about the village and the perilous journey ahead. He did not notice the shadow falling over him as he lay thinking… But Jhoria did. Prepared, she cocked her bowgun and marked the beast with her scope, aiming for its head. She managed to squeeze off a powerful shot of Clust S lvl 2-only to have it thrown awry by the terrified Apceros. The pack beasts were spooked by the airborne wyvern and rampaged out of control, pulling the caravan at breakneck speed. Zephyr, whom never thought Apceros could run fast, corrected himself as they outran the flying wyvern, which soon gave up pursuit. But the Apceros were anything from giving up.
The caravan soon split into two from the Apceros fervor, and both hunters were thrown out of the caravan. Zephyr himself was thrown onto a King Cactus, a malicious plant and bled from several wounds. Jhoria landed squarely and rushed to help Zephyr from the Cactus. "Are you alright?" muttered Jhoria. Without waiting for an answer, she broke off a piece of the King Cactus and applied the sweet smelling sap to his wounds. Each thorn carried a minor poison that could paralyze if untreated, but the cactus's own sap was the best remedy for the poison. Jhoria stared at the landscape around them. Cactus… They were at Diablos Ridge, in the middle of the desert. A wave of nausea overcame her- they had failed in their mission. As only one wyvern pursued them, the majority must have trailed her father's caravan instead. As she stared into the trackless wastes of the desert, she prayed to Quetzalcoatl that whatever lay in store for her and Zephyr, they would make it out alive.