The Hunter
And again a early start on a chappie! Ha-ha. Well Hopefully this chappie will be a little longer than the last one, seeing as how the last one was around a thousand words below average! Hmph. Well I Guess the only thing left is
Percy: On
Thalia: The
Nico: Story!
Percy: Wait...where's Rachael?
Annabeth: Oh, still strung up on the mortal huh?
Rachael: With...opps.
Orion and Kimberely were still following Tristan, who was still following mad little Bella. Although Tristan had repeatedly assured Kimberely of Bella's ability, both she and Orion remained uneasy. As they really had no clue where to go however, the maniac compass was their best chance. She had led them for the remainder of the day, through brush and briar. Tristan had asked her to lead them to a nearby bus stop, reasoning that motors last longer than "organic lifeforms" as he put it. Orion guessed that these "buses" must be something like a chariot for hire, something that is used to shuttle people from place to place. They were still following his stretch of woodland, all though the gaps between the trunks became more and more frequent. They slowly made the transition from ancient giants to middle aged saplings that were slowly working the land into a leafy kingdom of their own.
And abruptly their realm ended in the cold, gray stone that Tristan called concrete.
A small little stream of it flowed at their feet, a short medium between the two worlds, before the black, tarry, river of frozen stone called asphalt began. Another ribbon of concrete accented the far side. And on the roads channel zoomed gleaming metal contraptions that had evolved from the chariot of his time. A dismal little hut of of clear material, with a matching dismal little bench was their destination.
As soon as they arrived, Bella's slightly metallic and hugely maniacal voice chirped from Tristan's coat pocket. "We're here!" No one replied to her as they approached the bus stop. The compass's tinny voice came again, and Orion could tell she was pouting inside Tristan's pocket. "Oh come on! No 'Thank You Bellatrix! We are eternally in your gratitude!'?"
"I might want to talk to her more if she had shut up some on the way here..." Kimberely muttered to him. Orion smiled sympathetically. Tristan settled on the empty bench, with Kimberely following suit.
"So...what are we doing here exactly, Tristan?" Orion settled against the wall as he queried.
Tristan crossed his arms and let his head fall unto his chest. "Now? We wait fifteen minutes for the next bus to come our way. Then we'll take it west."
"Simple enough I guess."
And so after a tedious and annoying wait, punctuated by by light sprinkling rain that drummed furiously upon the sad lil' hut, a gleaming silver monstrosity pulled up. It was huge and breathing heavily as far a he could tell. And the flashback started... The creature was a beast like no other. His new found companions had come onto it unknowingly. It however seemed to know that they were there, had huddled in the brush silently for it's size. Most of the troop were thrown to the ground, all but it's leader was still standing – barely. The leader stood toe to toe with the creature, somehow facing it even with her bow knocked out of her hands. It took a loud addible sniff, and with a ferocious growl swept her backwards, flying into a tree. It was then that he ran out and began his campaign against the beast. It went down, finally. Ignoring any prizes of war he might be given, he immediately ran to the leader. He rolled her over and with a shock realized -
Tristan punched him in the arm. "Hey you have any change? I'm short a little for all three of us."
Orion felt drained from the trip down memory lane, his brain was pounding against his skull's containing walls. He wearily shook his head, knowing that he did have any money of any sort. Kimberely however, scowled and pulled out a thick stack of green paper. Tristan's expression upon seeing the stack told him two things; this was a lot of money and Kimberely had never mentioned such riches to Tristan. She tugged one green slip of paper from the stack and held it in front of Tristan. He reached out to take the bill and whistled. "How many Washingtons and Benjamins do you have there Kimberely?"
She stuck her tongue out at him as she replaced the wad in her bag. "Too many if you ask me."
Tristan climbed into the contraption, the 'bus', and they followed. Inside the cramped space was a long row of seats of ripped seating and a bad odors. The driver's triple chins wobbled – or nodded perhaps- as they passed his too small seat for his too large body. A few sullen commuters eyed them lazily before turning back to their books, papers, and phones or etc. They sat down at the very back where they might have some privacy. And as they had the choice of the back row, both Tristan and Kimberely claimed a window seat. Orion took his bow and quiver off and laid across two seats with his legs spanning the aisle and his pack for a pillow, deciding to sleep through the ride upon the beastly contraption.
He stared at the ceiling above him, but only vaguely saw the white paint that was peeling away. He heard Tristan mutter as his companion vaguely stared out the window. "Yep metro transportation's finest."
The hunter let his mind close, physically and mentally. He retreated into himself. His final refuge he remembered thinking of it at times of strife where he wasn't fighting. Behind him he heard a annoying little scritch-scratch like a claw on stone. The sound scritched it's way inside him and he dozed off into his mind and he ended up in the shadowy land of dreams and memories.
The drakant squad lay in the brush of a wood, carefully concealed. Their scaly gray hide was camouflaged with the local flora, mud, and in one case some littering. Actually the litter was not supposed to be a disguise, but if it helped, great. The lesser drakant with the be-junked mantle wasn't going to get Drasu to notice him though. The Drakant commander was heavily scarred, his face was a maze of burn scars, a mottled mess of angry red and black splotches. His facial scales were constantly molting, leaving his crest the only protection that existed around his tender mouth and eyes.
However the burn marks weren't the only angry thing. The commander hadn't let up on his kindred, hadn't given them a rest in the entire journey east. Questions were met with a stiff left hook. Or a hard clubbing to the upper arm or leg. Scabs of dried blood and newly formed scars dotted the troops. The Prince was cruel about discipline, but you couldn't deny the effect of his discipline.
The commander in question was still seething. His scarred face attracted revulsion from every kin-man he encountered. The chances were slim of him landing a mate, so he'd settled for becoming a prominent commander. He'd have to win the "Prince's" favor. The best way to do that was to find that demigod. He would slowly rise up in the ranks of his kin-men til he was the right hand man of the Prince. Then he'd strike. He tongued one of his sharp canines with pleasure at the thought of sinking them in the soft white neck flesh of the Prince.
It'd all begin with this capture.
He carefully reached behind his head, into the mesh of spikes and extracted a handful of the barbs from the surrounding scales. These almost nail like structures were sharp slivers of bone that regrew remarkably fast, and were handy for many such a job as this. An approaching rumble in the air sent a throb into his mind but the air also carried the scent he needed. It was the sent of the ages, of bronze arrows, of the demigod. The commander snarled twice. His troop, recognizing the signal for readying themselves, perked up beneath their camouflage. The drakant idly fingered the sharp tip of one of the detached bone spurs. Then with practiced ease of a thousand years of hunting demigods, he sent the slivers into the huge rubber paw of the bus.
Orion awoke with a jolt, as a screeching cacophony battered his ears, intermixed with shrill screams of business people unaccustomed to such. The bus, groaned and shrieked, spinning on the asphalt wildly. The metallic contraption and it's occupants was quickly spiraled out of control of any mortal powers. In the midst of this chaos, Orion surged to his feet, his warrior's sense prickling while he clung to a pole in an attempt to remain upright. Trinian was doing much the same in his own position.
With a jarring crash of metal, the bus's momentum stopped abruptly. The sudden reversal from chaos to calm sent Orion crashing back onto his seat. At the front of the bus, the commuters were frantically trying to escape the death trap that had been their morning route. Trinian groaned as he sat up from the floor where he fell. Orion sent him a glare. "Yes, motors last longer, until they screw up!"
Trinian got to his feet, still mumbling about organic life forms, then stopped to look around. "Wait, where's Kimberely?"
"Here!" Came a muffled cry from.. . Under a seat? Orion kneeled down on the floor of the bus and found Kimberely squashed under the seat next to a wheel. She crawled up and bounced to her feet, grabbing her bag as she did. "Last time I sleep on a bus..."She muttered irritably. They followed their companion out the bus into a now pouring rain, trying to stand stoically while shivering slightly from the surprisingly chilly rain. A feeling of impending violence and hatred born of innate instincts swarmed Orion's mind. He grimaced, eyes clenching tightly closed.
He felt arms grab at him, pulling him away from the bus. He blindly stumbled along, before the mind numbing effect wore off and he open his sight to the world once again. The trio was stumbling along to the roadside, into the leafy kingdom returning. They hurried in the shelter out the rain.
"Okay...so why'd we leave the bus? Thought we were taking it west far as we could?" Tristan asked the very query on Orion mind. Though in all honesty he preferred being away from the bus, it might have been the fastest way west.
Kimberely was glancing out into the increasing downpour, scanning the immediate area intently. "The tire, it punctured by these weird spike things... I had a feeling they were monster work." As both her companions scrunched their brows in thought, she bit her lip. "Well, I don't know..."
"Might as well wait out the storm here." Orion interjected. Tristan nodded and settled against a tree trunk, comfortably reminded of the woods at camp. Leaning against a trunk, Orion pulled out his bow and arrows, checking flecking and tips for anything to hinder their capability on the battle field. Finding a dull tip, he pulled a delicate instrument from his bag, a piece of glimmering crystal, fabulously unbreakable, that he used to sharpen the tip to perfection reminiscent that of a diving hawks talons. In all the centuries of using the marvelous object, it had not dulled, nor broke. Instead it had continuously scraped bronze that had been wore done by it's bloody work back into a state of newly forged sharpness. Up slowly, down quickly, he moved the gem's edge over the arrowhead, once finished with once side moving to the other side of the point. Kimberely was still standing sentinel for them, still uneasy with their surroundings.
Suddenly a pair of arms grasped Orion from behind, one dirty hand clamped over his mouth, another wrapped around his throat. He felt himself being dragged back, and squirmed and jerked at his aggressor, who he now realized was none other than the very monsters they had been tracking. He realized he retained the sharpening stone, on an impulse he jerked his arm, sending the gem into the drakants arm. With a drawn out snarl of pain, the scaled monster released his hold for just a second, and Orion leaped up and drew his sword. The grip rested comfortably in his palm, tip down and poised for an upwards cut into the neck. By now Kimberely and Tristan were at his side, Kimberely holding her two handed sword confidently,and Tristan's hand tensedaround the handle of a double-head ax.
However, their foes had apparently disappeared, for nothing but a stand of brush and and silence greeted them. Cautiously, he stepped forward to the swathe of leaves, peering into the dark recesses inside. There was nothing there. He scowled, hating losing the hunt, and stood and turned around.
"It disappeared-Ne ton kuna! Behind you!" As he had turned around his eyes had happened upon a flicker of movement and now he could fully make out the drakants to go with that flicker. Tristan was closer to him, fortunately for him. However Kimberely was farther back, one drakant screeched and slammed a club into her head. His companion crumpled, sword and body falling limply to the forest floor.
Tristan leashed a full throat yell and charged the group, dispatching the one still leaning over Kimberely into sand with a backhand slash of his ax as he ran. Trinian didn't follow his companion immediately though, dropping back and glancing to their back and side for more enemies. Confident in their enemies being just in front. Then he dived into the battle, slashing all the way. One drakant suddenly popped up from a bush, a bronze instrument somewhat akin to a mace and an ax combined gripped in a clawed hand. He swung this toward Orion's head, but the experienced demigod ducked under the novice blow. The drakant followed his momentum from the blow, thinking to turn around and try again at the warrior. However, the outstretched foot of Orion reduced his determined charge into perilous tumble. With a quick slash, he became just spare sand castle parts. A comrade of the fallen monster began to edge around him, wanting to end this before they weaken much more.
Orion made a show of straightening back up and then doubling up, as if an injury had pained him. In doing so he caught a glimpse of the drakant, whom he had seen sneaking behind him. He swiveled quickly, and leaped, sword tip leading the lunge. It prodded the chest of the monster and continued through. His gaze locked onto that of the drakant, and together they fell to the ground, with only Orion returning to his feet.
Drasu surveyed the skirmish with a practiced and experienced eye, the eye of a commander. Of course, even a lesser drakant could have seen that these two outmatched his forces. To stay and fight would be ridiculous, not to mention stupid. Then the commander's eye landed upon the body of the fallen human. This group was close knit, and cared for each other. Of course that was humans in generally, putting friends over the whole. But now, he would use that against them.
Quietly, he signaled two of his drakants not in the fighting to go out and recover the body.