Monster Hunter Legends
The Tigrex's Rage – Prologue
Brandon stared out over the icy hills of the tundra, a habit inherited from his father, William. Over his years, Brandon had been stubborn to learn the Barioth Knights ways and codes – but he was grateful for being the Barioth Warrior, and having grown up in a loving family. His father was aging more, now he was in his fifties – he had a full grey moustache, and preferred to wear a coat over his armour. That was the thing with being a hunter – you stayed strong for your life, but strength was nothing if you died due to a silly mistake. Because of this, many hunters did not live past the age of thirty.
"Thought you'd be out here." William said, walking up to his son on the Citadels wall. "Come on in, everyone's waiting for you. And it'll be night soon - if you stay out to long you'll freeze." Brandon laughed, and walked with his father back to the Citadels living areas. The wind was making a high-pitched sound, indicating to the watchers on guard that there may be a blizzard coming from over the ice cliffs. Brandon turned round as he got to the door, looking up at the watchtower opposite. The guard on duty waved and gave the "all clear" signal, and Brandon waved back. Just as he was about to turn and go inside, the watchman yelled and fell over the tower, clutching his neck. Brandon ran over to the man, calling for help. William ran out the door, just as he saw a man in black cut down his son. The watchman had been a distraction. "Too easy," the man said, turning to William, "the whole families here!" William could now see the man clearly. He was clothed head to toe in black, which seemed to be over sleek armour. His face was covered in a black bandana, which hid everything but his eyes. In the night, they flashed red.
"Murderer…" snarled William. "Oh, that word. So uncivilised." Replied the man in black. "You just killed my SON, you bastard! You think that isn't uncivilised? HUH?" William's voice rose with his temper. He wanted to kill that man where he stood. The mans eyes grew cold now, and he said, slowly, "You won't grieve for much longer." The man made a sudden movement, and something stabbed into William's gut. His hands went down to the spot, and grasped a throwing knife. Before he could pull it out though, the man landed a powerful kick to William's chest, throwing him over the side of the Citadel. His body rolled as it hit the snow, and he tumbled trailing a streak of blood. Looking up, the last thing William saw before he blacked out was that man, his bandana pulled down, grinning.
William woke up a couple of hours later, in the dead of night. "EEARRRGHH!" He had forgotten for a moment about the knife in his gut. Lying back in the snow, William gritted his teeth and grabbed the knife. After a few moments of excruciating pain and loud screaming, William flung the knife away into the snow. He lay there in the snow, blood covering his hands, and trying not to fall asleep again. Tearing some of the lighter material from his coat, he wrapped his wound in a barely plausible bandage. William suddenly remembered something at the back of his mind. That man had killed his son. Tears fell down William's face, but he brushed them away before they could freeze. He sobbed loudly, and cursed his ancestor for learning the Barioth's ways. If it hadn't been for two of its traits, endurance and heat, William would be dead, and wouldn't have to go through this grief. He couldn't go back, that man would find out and come back. He knew where the Citadel was. Fighting back sobs, William staggered to his feet. Wrapping his coat around him, he headed off into the tundra. He would find out what was happening, and he would make whoever that man was pay.