Reckless Bulldrome Hunter

Shayde sat alone in the corner of the hunter's Guild Hall, sipping a tasty drink. He was wearing all of his armor and a pair of steel tomahawks rested snugly on his back. His hooded gaze lingered on the near- empty room, as if waiting for something to happen.

Suddenly, the door burst open, letting in a gust of chilly air and a certain frantic father. He was one the older farmers of Pokke village, but Shayde didn't know him very well. The man made a beeline for him and started talking before he'd even reached Shayde's table.

"Sir, please help me! My son has run off to become a hunter like you, and he thinks that the best way to get the Guild's attention is to slay a Bulldrome! He's not prepared for this, and he's already up in the mountains, probably in trouble! Will you help, Hunter?"

Shayde took another sip of his drink. One of the Guild receptionists came over from behind her counter. "Hunter, this can be a quest if the farmer here has money. You'd have to start right away."

The reckless youth's father nodded hastily. "Yes, I can pay a substantial amount of gold for you to bring my son back. Will you do it?"

Shayde finished his drink and got up from the table, slapping a few zennies to pay for it. "Yes," he said, and turned to leave. The farmer grinned and took his hand to shake enthusiastically.

"Thank you very much!" He said to Shayde, who just stared at him until the man let go.

A few hours later, Shayde was climbing up frozen vines that spanned a snowy cliff, sweating from the exertion. This quest would be around his thirteenth since he arrived at Pokke. Already, the Guild was beginning to see what an asset he was and relied on him more and more. They wanted to push him because, as of yet, they had not seen a quest that he had trouble with. Soon he would become a two- star hunter, able to travel to different regions and complete more dangerous assignments. He could hardly wait.

Especially now that I've killed that Khezu! He thought as he reached the top of the cliff. To his amusement, a lone Bullfango was snuffling around the snow. Bullfangos were boar- like monsters with huge tusks and bad attitudes. They would attack anything without a second thought, which, in Shayde's opinion, was rather foolish.

The large pig saw Shayde, narrowed its beady eyes, and charged him. Shayde didn't even unsheathe his tomahawks. He waited until the Bullfango was too close to stop and sidestepped it. The monster plummeted over the cliff, squealing, to land with a thud at the bottom. Whether it was dead or not, Shayde didn't know, and neither did he care. It was out of his way, and his real target was its pack leader, the Bulldrome, which was three times its size and three times as mean.

As soon as Shayde had cleared some snowdrifts, he heard screaming. It echoed all around, but seemed to be coming from just ahead. Shayde quickened his pace and unsheathed his tomahawks as the strange sight unfolded.

A gangly youth was desperately clinging to a small shelf of ice, trying to stay above the reach of tusks the length of his body. The Bulldrome was furiously rearing and butting the ice, stopping every so often to pace and snort in anger.

Shayde didn't wait. As soon as he was in range, he threw his left tomahawk as hard as he could at the Bulldrome. It struck the monster at center mass along its side. It staggered from the impact and charged without warning. A few tons of angry pig- flesh barreled across the ice under the momentum of hooves as sharp as swords.

Shayde lunged to the side and yanked his axe out of his quarry as it passed. The Bulldrome skidded to a halt and turned as fast as its bulk would allow, now stained with blood. It ran at him again, and he dodged again. When it stopped, Shayde was already behind it, hacking and slashing with his blades at its hindquarters.

It wheeled around and its tusks caught the hunter a glancing blow that tripped him. Luckily, he landed crosswise on its tusks, pinning them to the ground. Enraged, the boar thrashed its head and tossed him off. He sprang up and, in a pattern that would continue for minutes, rolled away from the charging animal and attacked it while its back was turned.

Eventually, the snow was stained red and the Bulldrome slowed in its movements. Shayde was trying to get the last strikes in before the beast got him in its sights when it caught him with a tusk in the gut. He landed ten feet away, cradling his bruised belly. The Bulldrome charged.

Time slowed as Shayde leaped forward, towards the irate monster. His boots found its snout, and he pushed off, sailing over its bristly back as it ran below him. He cleaved down with a both tomahawks, hitting its spinal cord. He landed flat on his back in the snow while behind him, the bulk of the dead Bulldrome hit the ground.

When Shayde got back up and was cleaning the gore off his axes, the brash teenager was climbing down from his perch. "Mister, I want to be just like you! Will you teach me?"

Shayde sheathed his axes. "Not today. I'm just here to get you back into town safely. If you want lessons, you'll have to go talk to the training guru. Let's go." And, turning his back on the crestfallen youth, Shayde strode back toward Pokke.

A/N: So! Just to recap, this fanfic is about a hardcore hunter who has a dark past (wow, so original, right?) and who treats most of Pokke village like they're scum. BUT they keep him around because he's awesome. It'll continue to have blood, gore, and language. This is one that I really am not going to put effort into, but if you love mindless violence (like me and 99% of the male population) you'll love this too. Be cool!

~Shroudedpanther