Chapter 8


Roughly 5 years prior to current events, somewhere on the sandy plains in the Loc Lac area.

A small shoal of delex swiftly cross the loose sands in search of meal. Their target comes into sight; but it's something one normally wouldn't expect in the sandy wilderness; the wreckage of airship. The delex bear down on the wreck, but upon closing in some kind of small, smoking object is ejected from it. A moment later it detonates, and while the blast itself doesn't do much harm to the delex, the noise is clearly too much for their honed senses. The creatures spasm violently; ejecting from the sand and thrashing about on the surface. A moment later an individual dressed in some very clearly improvised patchwork armour leaps from the wreck armed with a pair of similarly improvised swords; made from the remains of propeller blades. The figure makes swift work of the delex, before gathering them up and dragging them back to the wreck. A somewhat pained voice calls out from inside.

"...Did...the plan work?"

"Yeah, no problems; it might've been a little smokier than a regular sonic bomb, but it was enough to do trick."

"That's good...be pretty sad fate for a hunter; well anyone really; to end up as delex food."

The figure steps inside the wreckage; there are three more people present in the immediate area; two of whom are lying still and mostly concealed by blankets. The other individual has propped themselves up against the hull; evidently a fairly large and fit man dressed partially in hunting attire, but his legs are clearly injured, being mostly concealed by wound dressings and bandages, and both have improvised splints applied to them. The active individual on closer inspection is considerably smaller than him, and while the improvised armour conceals their figure, they have a clearly female voice.

"How're you holding up Craig?"

"Not bad all things considered Patchy. I'm still alive, which means that at the very least your attempts at first aid have been successful enough to stop the bleeding."

"You've still got compound fractures to both legs though; you need to see an actual doctor urgently."

"That's out of our hands now...think we came down in an active hunting area though, so rescue shouldn't be too far away."

"How...are the others?"

"...Jess is still with us, but she's been comatose since the crash. Probably a mercy though,

she's got extensive scalding from where the boiler blew. Sam stopped breathing at some point last night…"

"Fuck! I should've…"

"No, we never had a chance of saving him really; when I had a closer look at his neck I realised he had a hangman's dislocation. He was as good as dead on impact; I think his obstinate nature just meant it took a day to sink in. How're you holding up Patchy?"

"Okay I guess; the crash doesn't seem to have done me any real harm."

"Sorry about you having to look after us."

"No sweat; looking after hunters is part and parcel of being a cook."

"Trainee cooks aren't normally expected to actually fight monsters though."

At that moment a distinctive call rings out across the plains; it's some distance from the airship though, concealing the source.

"Listen, Patchy; grab whatever supplies you can carry and get out of here."

"What!"

"Don't argue; that was the call of a Great Jaggi; and that's not something someone who hasn't at least completed the hunters training course should even think about tangling with. It might be a long way off, but it will find us; and it will be bringing its pack with it."

"But...what're you going to do? I'm the only one here that can still fight."

"Realistically speaking, we're fucked...but you've still got a chance."

"I'm not leaving you to get torn to pieces by a pack of jaggi's!"

"They won't get the chance. There's a crate of bowgun ammo in the back; that combined with anything else left in this wreck capable of burning should be enough to see it that they'll end somewhere between chunky salsa and extra crispy."

"No. Sorry for being stubborn Craig, but I'm not letting you die."

"Sigh...Okay, well grab that bowgun ammo anyway. I'll stuff some of it in those delex you took out earlier, make for a couple of good bait bombs. When they blow it should take out the small fry; and if we're really lucky they'll take a good chunk out of the big one. As for actually fighting the bastard; experienced hunters might consider a Great Jaggi as little more than a nuisance monster; but with basic equipment it's no joke, and you don't even have that. I reckon that armour should be enough to give you a bit of protection from its bites, but if goes for a body slam you need to dodge; that's over a thousand pounds of bird wyvern coming at you at high speed."

"Anything we can do to keep the pack out?"

"Block the holes in the hull with cargo crates, that'll keep out the little ones. The Great Jaggi only has a chance of getting in through the exit hatch; the door still works, but it won't last long if it decides to break down."

"Thanks...and...look this isn't pessimism but...I'll make sure you've got that bowgun ammo nearby in case I screw up. If I were in your shoes I'd far rather get blown up than eaten alive."

The two of them quickly make preparations. The call rings out again; it's closer, but still without a visible source.

"Closing in...better place those bait bombs now; they won't take them if they spot you placing them.

"No sweat; they're ready, but if they see me won't they ignore them anyway?"

"Hide in the loose wreckage; Jaggi's are heavily sight dependent when it comes to actual combat. They've probably already got out scent, but that won't be enough to distract them from scavenging a fresh delex corpse."

"With these traps and your advice I think we've got a chance here Craig."

"Thanks. Try your best but...if you don't think you can win, just run for it; okay?"

Patchy leaves the wreck and quickly places the delex around it. Craig calls out to her.

"Hey, if anything else shows up; make yourself scarce. Something like a Nibblesnarf, Barroth or Diablos'll probably get surly with Jaggi's, and either won't be able to get into the airship, or won't be interested in making us into a meal."

"What about a Deviljho, Rajang or Tigrex?"

"Same plan for you; and from my perspective cashing out against any of those horrors carries some pretty decent posthumous credibility for a hunter."

"Always look on the bright side of life eh?"

"I find it helps. Okay, you're about as ready as you can get. Seal the hatch and get yourself concealed. Good luck."


A little later…

An airship slowly passes through the skies about the sandy plains. Several flashes are seen from it as it signals to someone. On the ground a group of four hunters cross the sands at a brisk pace. In the lead is young, dark skinned hunter armed with dual blades, and dressed in the distinctive reds of a Rathalos armour set. Close behind her on one side is a veritable hulk of a male hunter; his stature further enhanced by a full Uragaan armour set; and he's armed with a lance and great shield. On the other side is another female hunter, the second largest of the group, who is lighter skinned and heavily tattooed. She's wearing the distinctive red chitinous plates of Volvidon armour, and is armed with a switch axe. Close behind them is another Male hunter, somewhat smaller in stature than the first, and dressed the most appropriately for the desert, in the classical Loc Lac armour, and armed with a bow.

"They've found something! We need to get a move on."

"I can appreciate you're eager Leona; but with this being an urgent mission we don't even have any idea what kind of level of fight the fauna's packing; for all we know…"

"Hunting's not the objective this time around Hans. If we're lucky this'll be a rescue mission; and if not, recovery."

"Incidently Hans; you reek."

"That's because I had to good sense to pack some dung bombs Marie."

"Since when did you need to drive the monsters off; are you going soft on us?"

"Shut up Marie."

"Or what Greg; You might be the most experienced here, but that…"

"Greg's right."

"Who asked you Leona, you're the least experienced here. You might have family prestige, but that means jack and shit to me."

"…What exactly are you normally assigned to again Marie?"

"Loc Lac city defence unit."

"Yet the guild have enough faith in me to let me deal with the Moga incidents on my own."

"That's called favouritism."

"No, It's called trust; and the guild aren't showing you any because you consistently behave like a cunt."

Marie starts to unsheathe her axe. Greg suddenly grabs her by scruff of her armour and hoists her clean off the ground before she can.

"Don't think for one second I haven't forgotten what happened during the last Jhen Moran attack! Pull any of that shit on my watch ever again and I'll shove this here lance up your arse and turn you into a Nibblesnarf lure!"

"Hack...Okay...point taken…"

Greg throws her to the ground.

"Listen. This is a rescue mission. No showboating; no dicking around; first and foremost we find any survivors we can and we get them out. If we're lucky there might not be any monsters; although that would mean Hans would've carted a backpack full of shite out here for nothing."

"...You okay Greg?"

"Fine Hans."

"Something you need to talk about?"

"Later, over some strong drink...and well away from that bitch; lest I really lose my temper."

"...Sorry."

"That's okay Leona. It was bound to happen sooner or later anyway."

The four of them get back up to speed. Before long they make sight of the airship wreck.

"There!...What...what the hell…"

The four of them observe the spectacle; surrounding the wrecked airship are an assortment of burnt, blasted and sliced jaggi and jaggia corpses; mostly centred around some small craters in the sand. The most striking sight is a petite and mostly naked young woman; covered in blood; who is furiously punching the head of a prone Great Jaggi. Surrounding them are multiple pieces of destroyed armour and what appear to be two improvised but now broken swords. Some pieces of the armour are stuck in the Great Jaggi's hide; having been used as means of fighting the creature. Greg runs over to the girl.

"Hey, it's okay; you can stop; rescue is on its way."

The girl stops punching the Great Jaggi. On closer inspection her hands are now heavily bruised, having broken several fingers, but there's also now a significant dent in the Great Jaggi's head, and it isn't breathing. Leona catches up to Greg, but signals to Marie and Hans to keep watch. Hans acknowledges this, while Marie gives her the middle finger.

"I...I won!"

The girl jumps up and down in elation. It now becomes clear she's actually taken quite a bit of damage; one whole side of her chest is purple with bruising, and she has lacerations all over her from jaggi bites.

"Yes. Yes you did. Did anyone else survive the crash?"

"...Huh...Oh, yes! I'm not the only one; everyone else is hurt though, and they're hiding in the wreck. Give them the good news will you?"

"I will do. Leona, could you…"

"I'll make sure she's okay Greg."

Leona notices the Girl start to sway and helps her stand.

"Oooo...I feel a bit jubby…"

She turns to the side and heaves violently, managing not to get any on Leona. The spew rather noticeably contains chunks of purple jaggi hide. Leona glances at the Great Jaggi corpse; identifying it to also be sporting bite wounds from human teeth. Leona carefully lays her down on the sand, while Greg calls out to the wreck.

"Can you hear me? Cavalry's arrived!"

"Is that you Greg?"

"Craig?"

"The very same. The hatch isn't locked so you should just to say be able to squeeze through."

While Greg makes his way into the wreck, Hans examines the scene more closely himself.

"Holy shit…"

"What's the big deal Hans; it's just a Great Jaggi."

"Which she beat without training or proper equipment. Not to mention she wouldn't even make the minimum size requirements to train as hunter."

"Yeah, yeah; she's probably gonna drop down dead as soon as the adrenaline wears off looking at all that blood though."

"Do you always have to be such a-"

Greg emerges from the wreck and calls out to the team.

"Hey, signal to the scout blimp to get their arses down here! We've got multiple injured, and they're too unstable to evacuate by cart."

"Will do Greg."

Hans loads his bow with a heavily modified arrow. As he releases it, a trail of sparks bursts forth from the shaft, and the arrow accelerates skyward before exploding into a cloud of coloured smoke. The airship signals to them.

"They got the message; the sands are level enough for them to land so they should be down shortly."

"Thanks Hans. How's the Girl?"

"Hey…I got a name...'s Patchy…."

"Sorry Patchy. Listen, you need to stay as still as possible. I don't know exactly what kind of injuries you've got, but you're pretty badly beat up to say the least."

"You...should see...the other guy…"

"Oh, don't you worry; he ain't getting up again, that's for certain."

"Hehhehee…I think...I kinda like hunting…guild said I was too small...but...that hasn't stopped me so far…"

"Hey Greg; if we can, we should take that Great Jaggi back with us; make something out of it for Patchy."

"That's a nice idea Leona; but…"

"...I know; and if it does turn our like that...a memorial."

"Oi. Don't go writing me off...oh! How're the others Greg?"

"I'm pretty sure Craig's gonna make it Patchy. He won't be able to hunt for a while, but he's tough and determined, so I'm pretty sure he'll recover. Jess...we'll have to wait and see."

"Anyone else?"

"Afraid not...you probably already knew Sam had passed on, but the lads in the engine room didn't make it either."

"I...couldn't find them after the crash."

"That's...well, they were next to the boiler when it blew...so…"

"I get the picture…"

"Do you know why the airship crashed?"

"Something hit us Leona; and hit us real hard."

"That's odd; there aren't many flying wyverns in this area, and given the size of the airship the impact would probably have been enough to fatally injure pretty much anything that calls these skies home."

"...Oh Shit."

"What's the matter Greg?"

"Did you see a bright red flash just before the impact?"

"...So I didn't imagine it. Yes. Yes I did."

"What's this about Greg?"

"Leona, given the reputation associated with the Vangis family there's a chance someone in the guild will ask you to investigate the cause of this accident. If that happens, just say no."

"I take you know what's going on then."

"Sort of. There've been incidents like this before; best we can gather is it's some kind of creature that flies much higher and faster than any known flying wyvern. Most of the attempts to investigate bring back nothing; but I think an old buddy of mine might've found it; much to his misfortune."

"This doesn't sound good."

"Something I've volunteered for that not a lot of hunters are willing to do are retrievals. I've seen a pretty wide variety of mutilated hunters as a result; but when I found his remains…what kind of forces could have done that? I found bits of his armour spread out over a hundred meters, no piece of solid remains bigger than a peanut, and his great sword outright sheared in half! Whatever did that...don't even think about it until you've at least got a successful black dragon hunt under your belt Leona."

"Okay, I get you Greg. Black dragon isn't a term hunters throw around lightly; the only reason I even know about them is from family connections. Actually, how do you know about them?"

"Retrievals again. I got sent out to some hell scape known as the tainted sea. Some absolute fools thought they'd chase a rumour about it being the nesting site of a legendary monster. All we found of them was the partially melted remains of their armour in the shallows, some vaguely humanoid shadows burned into the rocks; and the rest of the place looked like the aftermath of the apocalypse. The guild master let slip that it was a black dragon incident, but beyond that we didn't find out anything else about what the happened there."

"I think Grandpa might be investigating that one right now."

"Old Man Vangis is still going strong?"

"Oh yeah; he's still the Guilds first choice for black dragon incidents."

The scout blimp comes in to land; Hans helps direct it down.

"Transport has arrived. Marie; make yourself useful and widen the exit of the wreckage."

"Listen, this switch axe isn't for-"

"I'm suddenly feeling the urge to go Nibblesnarf fishing-"

"Okay, point taken."

Marie gets to work hacking away at the airship hull. She doesn't need to remove very much in order to widen the exit. Several people emerge from the scout blimp carrying stretchers, and quickly transport the wounded onboard, while Leona and Greg surreptitiously stuff the Great Jaggi corpse in the cargo hold. A rumbling in the sand quickly gets everyone's attention.

"Uh, looks like those dung bombs I brought might come in handy after all."

"Whatcha reckon Hans?"

"Whatever it is Greg, it's big; really big; the sand's bouncing everywhere I can see."

"Some good news; it isn't coming up under us; I can see a depression forming just over there."

"That's still pretty close Leona."

"Let's get stuck in then shall we?"

"Hold your horses Marie; Priority number one is to make sure the airship gets safely away; and remember; an actual hunt isn't even on the cards."

Something starts to emerge from the depression in the sand; an enormous, copper coloured brute wyvern. Its head is topped by a pair of huge, wide curled horns; its back is crested with a pair of humps, and its tail sports colossal, axe like protrusions. The beast turns and glares at the hunters.

"Rust Duramborous; okay, like I said before; this isn't a hunt. All we need to do is keep it away from the airship. You all got that?"

"Loud and clear Greg; but I think I'll have to wait on the dung bombs until the airship's clear. I haven't fought a Rust Duramborous before, but I know the regular old forest dwelling ones sometimes go a bit mental instead of running off if they get a turd up the nose."

"Huh. I'm sure if we just kill it that'll solve the problem."

"You do realise we're actually pretty badly outclassed here Marie? Rusty here's normally something the guild won't let us anywhere near until we hit G rank. I won't stop you if you want to try your luck, but you do remember what Duramborous tend to do to hunters that are down and unable to flee?"

"...Teabagging?"

"Oh yes. And from a great height."

"Ulp."

"Yeah, so unless you want to end your existence by being crushed under a colossal scrotum; I suggest you handle this guy with extreme care."

The Duramborous emits a blast of steam from its nostrils and starts to advance on the hunters. The airship starts up its engines and the crew signal that they're taking off.

"Phew. Okay, we only need to keep this guy entertained for five minutes tops. After that, Hans'll give him a nose full of shite at the first opportunity, and then we run like hell."

"You want to get a head start Greg? That armour doesn't look suitable for long distance running."

"I appreciate your concern Leona, but I've gotten used to it."

The Duramborous lowers its head and charges at the hunters.

"Here we go!"

Hans, Leona and Marie all dodge the charge. Greg blocks it, resulting in him being hurled backwards by the impact. His feet leave a long pair of furrows in the sand, and by the time he comes to a stop he's still standing; although his legs are shaking intensely.

"...Remind me to never, ever do that again."

"You okay Greg?"

"Alive, and haven't soiled my armour Hans; so not bad."

"About how hard does he hit?"

"Too hard. You'll get away with one mistake tops. Two solid hits'll be enough to put you down."

"Shite. I always heard those G rank hunts were insane, but it seems they weren't just boasts after all."

Marie charges the beast from behind.

"So what if he's strong as hell; an axe to the family jewels ought to cramp his style!"

Marie performs a violent uppercut with the axe, which connects between the beasts back legs. Her axe bounces off; and the Duramborous turns to look at her.

"Oh shit...is he smirking?"

The beast raises its tail.

"I think he's gonna return the favour!"

Marie leaps clear as tail comes crashing down, but the impact still transmits through the ground and sends her tumbling.

"You witless bint! Everyone knows you don't attack a Duramborous from behind!"

"….Gralble…"

"What."

"I think that was supposed to be a retort Greg; but a mouth full of sand kind of got in the way."

"I've got an idea; anyone got any flash bombs?"

"I brought some Leona."

"Nice one Hans. What I'm about to do...will look like the pinnacle of stupidity; but trust me on this, and be ready with those flash bombs."

"...Good luck Leona."

"What's she about to do Greg?"

"The rumoured Vangis family technique of Duramborous baiting Hans; I think."

Leona charges the beast head on, but doesn't unsheathe her swords. Instead, she leaps onto its face, grabs its horns, and headbutts it between the eyes.

"...now I've seen everything."

Leona drops down, and could swear she sees the beasts eyes twinkle. It proceeds to back up.

"I think it worked!"

The Duramborous starts to rotate, using its tail as counterweight. It quickly gains momentum, and given its already enormous mass effectively becomes a gigantic living wrecking ball. It tries to bear down of Leona, who lures it away from the airship. She then quickly rolls inside the arc of tail rotation; narrowly avoiding being pulverized by it.

"Hans!"

"I hear you Leona! Everyone; cover your eyes!"

Hans throws a flash bomb at the beast. Thanks to his timing, it detonates in front of its face; and the shock of being suddenly dazzled causes the beast to loose its balance. It topples, and the momentum from its spinning sends it skidding across the sands on its side.

"The airship's made take off!"

"Good, that means its basically clear Hans; the beasts a good distance away now and down for a bit. As soon as he gets up, give him a face full of shite; even he does go mental, he'll have no chance of damaging the airship."

"Will do Greg; you guys might want to get a head start just in case."

The Duramborous slowly gets to its feet; it blinks and shakes its head repeatedly, still somewhat dazzled; but receives another dose of unpleasant sensory information as something soft and exceptionally foul smelling spatters across its nose. The beast lets out a deafening roar, before shoving its face into to sand to rub off the offending substance.

"Oh, he did not take that well. I think we really need to move!"

"This way Hans, the passage through these rocks is pretty narrow; it should be enough to stop him…"

They all turn to look at the Duramborous; having now recovered its senses it glares at them with clear fury in its eyes.

"...or at least slow him down. A bit. Hopefully."

The beast lets out another roar, and then starts to advance on them; this time not in a head lowered charge, but a purposeful looking brisk trot.

"Oh bugger. He's saving his energy for the actual mauling."

"Well lets not hang around to find out the specifics Greg!"

The four of them hurry away, navigating a fairly narrow rocky passage.

"How far to base camp?"

"Not far now Greg; but since I didn't hear the sound of disintegrating rocks behind us I suspect the big lad might try to head us off."

"In that case we should take a detour Hans; if we go back via the mud pool the noisy wildlife there should cover our escape to some extent."

"What if that's where it is Leona?"

"He's not hard to spot Marie, even from a distance; so if he's headed that way we go back via the caves instead."

Somewhere to the south west the cry of a Qurupeco carries for a few moments, before suddenly being cut short with a pained squawk.

"I think he might've just taken some of his frustrations out on that unfortunate bird."

"I'm sure he'll still have plenty left over for us Hans; and if he's south west, then we've still got time to get to the mud pool."

The four of them take a southern exit from the passage, leading them to an open area populated by numerous giant termite mounds. One of the mounds has been broken open, and a large, mud covered and armour plated brute wyvern is feeding on the contents.

"A Barroth as well? This is not our lucky day."

"Just keep quiet and sneak past it; if he gets riled I'm pretty sure Rusty'll overhear the commotion and deliver us an express prescription of GBH and manslaughter."

"Easier said than done Greg."

"Look; the mud pools just over there; there's enough ambient noise from the wildlife there to cover our tracks. Once we get past there we're pretty much home dry."

The four of them quietly make their way past the Barroth, which proves rather straightforward due to the creature having its attention diverted to snacking. They make it to the mud pool.

"Right we should be safe now; camp's just around that corner-"

The Barroth suddenly charges past them, wide eyed with terror; and quickly submerges itself in the mud pool. The ground starts to rumble.

"-whichwemightmakeifwerunlikehellrightthissecond!"

The four of them sprint away from the incoming rumble of doom; they make their way up a steep, narrow rock formation before dropping down a partially concealed hole in rocks, leading them straight back to base camp.

"Okay...we should be safe now…"

"Greg, I...really don't wanna make G rank if its like that…"

"It's not that bad Hans…first few hunts are supposed to be a bit hairy, but after that...you get into the swing of things…"

"So today hasn't put you off Leona?"

"Just...got to make sure I'm ready when the time comes."

"Well don't be in any rush; experience goes a long way."

"Thanks Greg"

"You've been awfully quiet Marie? Are you okay."

Marie has curled up into a foetal position and started babbling nonsense.

"He's not gonna let up...he's...gonna teabag me to death…"

Hans pulls out a flask of some red liquid.

"Here, take a sip of this; it'll help."

Marie snatches the flask, takes a swig, and promptly slumps into unconsciousness.

"Hans, you didn't just do what I think you did?"

"Don't worry Leona, it won't kill her; it's been diluted."

"That's a shame."

"I'm guessing she did something truly appalling during that Jhen Moran attack then, Greg."

"Bad enough that I'll probably bury her alive if I try to talk about it with you now."

"How long do think she'll be out?"

"A couple of hours Leona."

"Strong stuff."

"No kidding, it's originally designed to knock out monsters."

"Two hours...nah, the trip back'll take longer than that so…"

"What're you planning Greg?"

"There's a stuffed Duramborous in the lobby of the Loc Lac Palace Hotel; I was thinking we could lay her under its bollocks and see how badly she freaks out when she wakes up."

"I guess it'll have to wait for another time. Still, I'm not in short supply when it come to tranquilliser fluid, so I'm sure it can be arranged with a minimum of fuss."

The rattle of cart wheels, meowing, and braying popo interrupts the conversation.

"Ah, our ride has arrived. Let's get back to Loc Lac."

"I couldn't agree more Greg. When we get back...you two should go and check on Craig, Patchy and rest. I know you normally handle death certificates for field casualties, but I know how to handle them; and I'm getting the impression you've had to deal with a bit too much morbid shit lately."

"Thanks Hans…"

Greg glares at the unconscious form of Marie.

"...I'd consider leaving that sack of shit behind; but the guild frowns on littering, and believe it or not I am currently trying to raise my rank."

"Either of you got any further plans?"

"I'll probably take a break from retrievals Hans; I've got some medical training so I'll see if I can help Craig and Jess get back on their feet. How about you Leona?"

"I was originally expecting to stop off at Tanzia for some special assignments; but they can wait. I don't know how much support Patchy's got, and given what she's been through I think she could do with some. Things have calmed in down in Moga for now; they are expecting me back at some juncture; but there's nothing urgent."

"...why do you have a flask of dilute tranquilliser Hans?"

"Personal use Greg. I got fried by a Lagaicrus a while back; I've mostly recovered, but I sometimes get violent spasms when I try to sleep. I can use the tranquilliser to take the edge of them if they're minor; or as a full blow sleeping agent if they're giving me serious problems. The doctors reckon it'll persist for about another year; since nerves really don't heal quickly."

The three of them bundle Marie into the cart, and climb aboard themselves.

"Ah, homeward bound...well, for me anyway."

"Loc Lac your home town Greg?"

"Yep; born and raised Leona. Where're you from?"

"I was born in Val Haber, so you might say I'm a natural nomad. How about you Hans?"

"Pokke village; I miss the snow, but not the cold."

"What about Marie?"

"She's from Loc Lac as well. We were actually in same class when we trained as hunters so; take it from me, she isn't worth getting to know. She's an unrepentant glory hound and braggart; who's only still alive today due to being exceptionally fortunate in her company; not that she'd ever acknowledge it."

"She did strike me as the kind of idiot who's hunting career typically comes to a full stop on the horns of a Diablos."

"Yeah, that almost happened; In fact it was Craig who saved her bacon that time; and he wasn't even on an assignment; he'd just gone fishing, and had the good sense to pack some sonic bombs in case a Plesioth showed up."

Hans gazes out of the window of the cart.

"Sun's going down...hey! Take a look at that!"

The three of them gaze at the sky.

"...A red, shooting star."

"It...just turned; what is that thing?"

"I think it might be whatever was responsible for the airship crash Greg."

"If all three of us report this, the guild should take notice. If it's still hanging around the skies of Loc Lac, the airships need to know they're in danger."

"Is there anything they could do though?"

"Red star collision incidents all have one thing in common; the airships were at very high altitude at the time. If they stay low they should be safe."

"Won't that leave them open regular flying wyverns?"

"That won't be a problem Hans; the only flying wyvern that's aggressive enough to attack airships is a very rare species called a Sergios; rare enough that we've yet to locate even so much as a nest, and rare enough that hunting them is highly illegal. When they do show up they tend to be a self managing problem anyway; they'll pick fights with absolutely every other monster they come across; so they typically go on a short rampage before being put down by a mated pair of Raths."

"Where'd you learn all this stuff Greg?"

"Retrievals again; it's nasty work, but as an information source its one of the best, especially for raw information. You get to see the gruesome truth; not that sugar coated pap the guild newspapers print. Oh, and in case your wondering exactly how that relates to the Sergios; lets just say a couple of poachers thought they'd try their luck; and found out the hard way what a Sergios is capable of."

Greg retrieves a small, wickedly sharp brass coloured scale from his backpack.

"A Sergios is covered in hundreds of these, and they propel them at high speed at potential prey. We extracted dozens of these from the poachers bodies; some of them had cut clean through bone."

"Well, lets just hope we don't see the Sergio becoming more common any time soon Greg."

"I'm with you there Hans; and hopefully it'll turn out they just nest in some spot of wilderness hundreds of miles from civilisation."

"What, like how Teostra normally only nest in either the bowels of the earth or those creepy ancient ruins?"

"Yeah Leona; now that you mention it there haven't been any Teostra assignments for while."

"I've had to do a retrieval for a botched Teostra hunt once; it pretty much amounted to collecting a suit of armour full of charcoal."

"...I guess that means whatever horror was lurking in the tainted sea could produce a heat even more intense than a Teostra."

"That really doesn't bear thinking about Leona; although I do wonder why you carry that Sergios scale around Greg."

"Utility Hans; it's sharper than my hunting knife, and the edge never seems to dull."