FULL CIRCLE
By: Matthew Taylor
Notes: Here is chapter 1 of my fic. Hope you enjoy it, and I hope you can figure out who is who here.
CHAPTER 1
20 YEARS AFTER THE DEFENSE OF DUNDORMA.
Why was it always Rathians?
The Hunter lay on his bed, having just awoken from a long, and blissfully monster free sleep. As he woke up, all the soreness of yesterday's hunt poured back on him. Four days, Four straight Rathian hunts.
If he never saw another tail flipping wyvern it would be too soon.
He had already decided to take this day off. He was certain that after all he had done, the guild would not look down on one day of rest. He wasn't certain where the Caravaneer was heading, but he could feel the dragonship bouncing along slightly under him, and felt it begin to lull him to sleep again, when the ship was struck from the side with a gigantic blow, and he was flung against the far wall.
"Alarm! "Awwk!" Alarm "Awwk!"" Came a shrill voice from above. He heard a great commotion in the rooms beyond his chambers. The door burst open, and the Caravaneer came through.
He was a tall man, with chestnut brown hair that was only now going to gray on the edges. Clean-shaven, he wore a red hat, and jacket, with blue pants, and knee high brown boots, at his belt was a whip on one side, and a large knife on the other.
"Come on Kindred Hunter!" He said. "Time to do your duty!"
The Hunter swore under his breath, and followed his current employer out the door, and past a crowd of people. They burst out through the door to the top of the dragonship, and were surrounded in dust and sand of the great desert. There was a loud roar off to the eastern side.
"An old friend of mine decided to shop up." The Caravaneer said, smiling. The Hunter looked over and took in the huge size of the Dah'ren Mohran.
"An Elder Dragon!?"
"Yep. Looks like we wandered into its territory. Damn territorial the old thing, it's a Fortress and this is the land it protects." The Caravaneer spit out over the side of the ship. "Okay Kindred Hunter, get to the Ballista while I get the dragonator ready."
The Caravaneer ran off to the front of the ship, and the Hunter followed him to the Ballista rack. He gathered as many as he could and ran to the Balllista closest to him.
"Remember Kindred Hunter, aim for the nose of the thing first!" The Caravaneer shouted.
"Right." He loaded two of the large harpoons into the Ballista, aimed and fired at the giant beast's nose. The Harpoons hit above the things jaw, and it didn't seem affected by it.
"What's going on!?" The Hunter looked behind him, and saw a veritable tower of a man come out from below deck. He had grey hair that still showed streaks of blonde, he wore a large yellow robe and leather pants of the same color. He wore brown boots that reached up to his knees.
"Hey Biologist, we got ourselves some company."
"I told you it would be trouble going this way!" The Biologist shouted over the roar of the beast. The Hunter continued to fire at the creature's horn as the two men talked.
"We're on a time-table old friend, had to go this way, you know what we're headed towards."
The Biologist sighed, and nodded. "What can I do?"
"Start loading up the cannon, we gotta show this old man what it is he's fighting against." The Caravaneer turned back to the young hunter. "How we doing Hunter?"
"It doesn't look like it's affecting it." He said, firing another volley at the elder dragon's horn.
"It does look that way but keep it up! It always looks like that!"
"Be calm and listen to him my friend." The Biologist said, walking past, and carrying a cannonball with one arm. "We've fought this beast before."
He loaded the cannon with a single hand and the large iron ball went careening into the dragon's side, exploding with a burst of fire.
"Can I do anything, sir?" Came a voice from beneath the Hunter's feet, He reared in shock , and came close to falling over the side. There was a blonde head of hair sticking out of the hatchway leading below.
"How's it going below?" The Caravaneer called.
"Some of the diggers were panicking, but your wife has them under control."
"Okay, We're almost done up here, make sure all of them are accounted for, and try to keep the Wycoon's seat from hitting the cook's kitchen stuff again. You know how he feels about that."
The girl saluted. "Aye-aye sir!"
"We're almost done?!" The Hunter asked, increduosly. "That thing doesn't look scratched!"
"Did I not say, calm yourself, young Hunter?" The Biologist called, loading another cannonball into the canon. "Fire at the thing's nose once more, if you please."
The Hunter turned back to the ballista, and fired his last volley of harpoons at the Elder Dragon's Horns. To his shock, there was a loud cracking sound, and a huge chunk of the tip broke off. He could only stare in shock.
"See, I could tell that the beast was weakening." The Biologist said.
"It's diving!" The Caravaneer yelled and ran to the front of the ship. Sure enough, the Dah'ren Mohran began to twirl in place, lifting itself up and diving down. It may have lost the tip of its horn but it was still capable of burrowing through the loose sand of the Great Desert.
"Up top here, Hunter. I want to show you something."
The Young Hunter ran to where the Caravaneer was. As he did so he saw the blade on the man's back. It was a Long Sword, he was sure of it. The handle was up over his right shoulder, and the blade went all the way down past his knee. It was covered head to foot in bandage, and the hilt and crossguard was covered in a separate bandage, with a strange looking seal locking it up.
"Here he comes!" The Caravaneer yelled. And sure enough, the Dah'ren Mohran suddenly resurfaced in front of them. "Stand by the switch Hunter, but don't hit it till I give the word."
The Hunter ran by the switch and picked up a large mining pick laying by it. The Caravaneer raised his hand. "Not yet."
The Elder Dragon began to charge. Great currents of sand were tossed aside by its passing.
"Not yet."
The Hunter began to sweat a little, the thing's horrible roar was getting louder.
"And…Now!"
The instance the word was said, the Hunter brought the mining pick down on the switch. Beneath both of them, there was a large metal drill attached to the front of the ship. It began to spin in place. The Dah'ren suddenly raised up out of the sand, intent to crush the ship completely. The drill spun faster, and suddenly jetted out, impaling the creature in its soft stomach.
The Beast roared in pain, and fell to the side. Within moments it began to run, swimming out away from the ship, and deeper and deeper into the Great Desert. Soon enough, it was a speck on the horizon.
A strong clap came down on the Hunter's shoulder, as he watched it swim away.
"Nicely done Kindred Hunter. Almost as smooth as I did it back in the day."
As he let go of the Ballista, he felt all that soreness return, and now he had new pains from this recent battle. He dropped to his knees.
"Guuh." He said. The Caravaneer grinned.
"Why don't you head down and check on everything. Miss Forge and the Love of my life should have everything in shape, but it never hurts to check out."
Eager for any reason to get closer to his bed, the Hunter obliged and went back through the floor hatch. Inside the ship he saw two woman standing in front of a large group of men in dirty clothes. One of them was the blonde head who had poked up through the hatch earlier. Miss Forge was a woman of medium height and build, wearing a type of overalls, a yellow tanktop, and headband. Her arms and midsection were bare, and covered in cords of muscle. She had a surprisingly large hammer over her shoulder, and an infectious grin on her face.
The other woman was a different story. Her clothing was identical to the Caravaneer, though blue, where his was red. Her hair was dark as night, and her skin was almost as dark. There were triangular marks on her cheeks, and beads strung in a few strands of her hair which was tied up in a tail near the top of her head. She was, all things concerned, one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen, the only thing breaking it up was the eye-patch covering her right eye. The eye-patch, and her general demeanor, made her extremely intimidating.
This was the Caravaneer's wife.
She walked up to him.
"Kindred Hunter," she stated matter-of-factly. "It was Dah'ren Mohran?"
"Yeah, but me, your husband, and the Biologist got him to go away."
"Very good." She turned back to the men. "There you go gentlemen, the danger has passed. I trust you are all fully ashamed of your cowardly behavior now?"
The ice in the woman's voice could have frozen magma.
The men seemed to mill about, but one of them stepped forward.
"We were hired on to dig up ruins, not fight giant sand beasts." Some of the men seemed to regain their spines at this, and started agreeing it. "We were promised protection from monsters."
"And you have received it!" She said again, spitting out each word in a wad of scorn. "Our Hunter, and several of our personnel have dealt with the Elder Dragon. You all make a living off of digging up ancient ruins, which, as you recall, are one of the most monster-rich environments in the world. I expected more courage from all of you. I am severely disappointed."
She turned around with a swish.
"We are approaching the airship docks, and we will be heading over to the Arluq for the remainder of this journey, I expect all of you to be ready when we arrive. You are dismissed."
The diggers filed out with a much more dejected air, and the Caravaneer's wife turned to the hunter.
"Thank you for your aid Hunter, why don't you head to bed? You look exhausted."
With that she passed him and headed up through the hatch. Miss Forge walked up to him.
"Great work Hunter! Just like the boss back in the day!" She clapped him on the back and he was reminded of just how strong she actually was.
"How are the Wycoon, and Street Cook?" He asked, wincing.
"Fine. Some of the street cook's utensils got thrown around, but he got his apprentices to go and pick them up. He could have waited for the attack to end, but he's always been a "right now" kind of person."
"Okay. I'm gonna go to bed."
"You do that." She said, walking past him and whistling. With that the Young Hunter went back to the area containing his "room" and, without wasting a moment, collapsed on the bed, and began to snore.
….
KAR'LUMIS Air Ship Dock: On the edge of the Great Desert.
The Wyverian in charge of the docks was similar in many ways to others of his race the Hunter had seen. He was short, mostly bald (judging by appearances), with pointed ears, and his hands behind his back. The only thing separating him from his bretheren was his small black, pencil thin mustache, pilot's hat and goggles.
And, of course, there was the way he talked.
"As you can zee Caravaneer! Ze Arlug iz in most, how you say, excellent condition!" He said, motioning to the airship, which even now was being loaded with the Caravan's supplies and various vehicles. The Street Cook, an old palico with a wok for a hat, was being carried around on a lift by four other palico, and seemed to be yelling things at the various workers doing the loading.
"Excellent work Mon' Capitan! Everything seems to be in order." The Caravaneer said, looking over the old airship. The Arluq had been built for the previous Capitol C Caravan, and had continued its service to the new. While built twenty years ago, it had been undergoing upgrades and renovations for all that time, and could keep up with any modern vessel.
"It is, how you say, a pleasure to work on such a ship as Zis!" The Wyverian called Mon Capitan, said. "Ze design is a true classeec! There iz not a true airman in Ze world who would not wish to fly her!"
One of the workers ran up to them. "Pardon me Capitan! But all the supplies are loaded. All that remains is the refueling."
"Mon Dieu! You have not finished Ze refueling yet!? What is the reason for that?!"
"I am sorry Mon Capitan, but the new supply of fuel is only just arriving. We will begin momentarily!"
The Wyverian threw his arms up in the air.
"I am zorry Caravaneer, but it seems you cannot leave just yet."
"No problem Mon' Capitan. I'll take my people to the lounge for now, if that's okay." The Caravaneer said, waving away the other's concerns.
….
The Caravaneer stood in front of the rest of the caravan within the lounge.
"Okay folks, since we got some time what say we go over what we're doing and were we're headed." He took a deep breath. "For those who may not know everything right now."
The young Hunter swore that the Caravaneer's eyes quickly turned to him before turning away. Perhaps he was just seeing things.
"Especially our Kindred Hunter here."
Or maybe not. A sour look passed onto his face.
The Capitol C Caravan is heading to the city of Dundorma. We have chosen to cut short our excavation of the ruined city within the Southern Everewood because of a crisis situation developing within the city. Because of this, we have received a special request from His Immenseness to come and aid the city for this crisis.
He put down a roll of paper on the table, and unrolled it, within it was a picture of a four legged dragon.
"Two weeks ago the Dragonseer spotted this thing within the vicinity of the outlying regions under the control of Dundorma. I trust I don't have to explain to you the significance of it?" Once again, the Caravaneer flashed the Hunter a look, "But I will anyway."
Another sour look.
"This is Kushala Daora, the Elder Dragon of Wind and Metal. Twenty years ago, this creature attacked Dundorma and was repelled by a combined effort of the Guild's Resident Ace Hunters, and the Master of Defense."
"Do we know it's the same creature as twenty years ago?" The Hunter asked.
"Yes we do, certain physical characteristics on this beast match the one's from twenty years back."
"Pardon darling." The Caravaneer's wife said, in a strangely light tone. "While I would never look down upon the Ace Hunter's, and the Master of Defense, wasn't the Legendary Hunter involved in that fight as well?"
The Young Hunter looked up with a look of surprised interest. The Caravaneer looked unaffected.
"Was he? I suppose he was. Never really cared for the man myself, but since I suppose it would be proper for our young Hunter to know as much as possible. I will include him."
Miss Forge giggled at this.
"Yes, these six individuals together with a weapon designed and built by members of the Capitol C Caravan, as it was at the time, defeated and repelled the Kushala Daora. Now it has come back for its revenge on the city."
"Has his Immenseness called any other defenses to the city?" Miss Forge asked.
"He has. Thanks to the new upgrades recently made to the Gathering hall in Val Habar, it has been moved, with great expense as the guild master will no doubt remind you, to Dundorma for the forseeable future. Over the next few weeks a veritable army of hunters will be converging on the city. Along with them will be no less than three armorer's consortium's and suppliers guilds. Dundorma is going to be a whirlwind of activity for awhile. The Capitol C Caravan, due to its rather prominent role in the previous defense of the city, will be taking a central role in all this."
The Caravaneer took a deep breath
"And that is the situation as it stands now."
"Seems a bit much for one Elder Dragon." The Young Hunter said. "Elder Dragon's are powerful, but I've never heard of one that required more than a good defense set-up and, maybe, four hunters."
"Ah, yes, it appears I've forgotten something. The Dragonseer has noticed something else. A massive amount of monsters seem to be gathering in the forests, field and caves around Dundorma and its area of governance. These are not small monsters, they have spotted such creatures as Golden Rathian, Silver Rathalos, Molten Tigrex, and others of their ranks. As such, not one hunter vetted by the guild for this mission is ranked beneath Top-level High Rank, and many of them will be registered G-rank by His Immenseness."
The Young Hunter suddenly felt a small shiver run up his spine.
"And most disturbing of all, is the theory they at the Wyceum have come up for this. They believe that the Kushala Daora is somehow "calling" these creatures to it."
"Prepare yourselves everyone, we're not going into a normal hunt here, we're going into a war."
And with that, a servant of Mon Capitan came into the lounge, and told them the ship was ready.
…..
TO BE CONTINUED.
Well, Here's chapter 1, hope you all enjoy it. Been on vacation for a bit this past week. Now I managed to get this done.
Okay, I think you can guess just who is who here.
Caravaneer: Kindred Hunter/player character.
Caravaneer's wife: Ace Gunner
The Biologist: Ace Lancer.
Miss Forge: Little Miss Forge.
You'll see more of them, along with what happened to the old Caravaneer, and The Man, later. Not to mention the Guildmarm. The Street cook, and Wycoon are still there. The Street Cook is now much older, and leaves most of the cooking to his four servants/Apprentices. The Wycoon is still the same. I figure that since Wyverians live much longer than normal people, twenty years is not that long too him.
Prior to this, they, along with a fleet of diggers were excavating a ruin in the Southern reaches of the Everwood, but were called away when news of what was coming came to them.
Hope to get more chapters out to you soon, please, let me know what you think.