Historia Questing 1- The Beast
Prompt
Recently, a huge monster has been rampaging near a small village. Your bean has been asked to deal with it however they see fit.
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Trudging through the darkened forest for days has been taking its toll; how long has she been tracking it? Days? Weeks? Whatever, it means little to her. She’s got a mission to accomplish and that’s all that matters.
Autumn leaves break under her paws as she stoops to examine a footprint left in the soft mud ridden earth, a monstrous scale clad paw edged with razor sharp claws. She’d recognize those tracks anywhere.
Standing up Historia fixes her hood about her head, golden eyes staring ahead in long-suffering determination. This time, this time she’ll kill the wretched beast. She has too.
Villagers near this area told her of a horrific monster that has taken refuge up in the mountains nearby, and though it has done nothing to their homestead as of yet, they live in great fear of the day it’ll come down from the hills and destroy everything with it’s wrath laden touch. Great was their relief when Historia came unto them searching for the creature, so grateful that they offered her all manners of monetary reward for her good deed in slaying the beast, all of which Historia rejected. She has no want nor need for material things. All she desires is the blood of the dragon to spill upon the grass, and she to be the one to make it happen.
“But brave warrior, this beast is dangerous.” they warned her. “It has massive golden horns and sharpened scales like daggers across it’s every inch. Please, I know it’s not much but take these supplies with you.”
“No need.” Historia replied back, already shouldering her meager possessions inside a worn leather sack. And without another word she departed from that place, the common folk watching her retreating figure with a mixture of awe and fear. This woman showed no concern for her wellbeing, nor fear. What sort of horrors has she been witness for the prospect of fighting a terrific scaled monster not to bother her, so much as bat an eye?
But what they did not know is that this prey is not new to her. Long has she tracked this beast, across towns, across countries, across times. She remembers well the feeling of it’s claws ripping her to shreds, remembers the stench of it’s breath like rotting meat, remembers it’s piercing eyes trained on her form to kill her. The monster has slain her more times than Historia can count. And after a while the pain and shock of death loses it’s sting.
But the resentment, it grows…. Oh such resentment is the only thing fueling her now.
The rains of recent days has made the earth soft and malleable, muting her steps as she slinks through the trees, body tense for the hunt. Nothing but the sound of a wayward leaf or branch creaking in the wind, all else is quiet as if holding its breath watching this master huntress track her prey.
She wishes she could have brought her pegasus with her, but it would be a detriment in this environment, such tight knit trees with branches weaving a canopy separating the sky from them, flight is impossible here. All the better for her hunt; for if her winged steed cannot take flight here neither can her much bulkier prey.
Steadily she makes her way up the muddy hill with silent steps, following the train of tracks with growing hunger. She’s getting close. Upon cresting the breast of a sodden ridge her breath hitches and her hand clenches the hilt of her axe. There, through the browned trees she sees a shine of gold, and the rumble of deep, labored breathing.
She’s found her prey.
Historia cannot see which end is head or tail, the foliage is thick here, but she doesn’t mind. It offers her plenty of cover and will make it difficult for the beast to move about. All the better for her, she couldn’t have picked a better spot for the kill.
Crouching she inches her way toward the seemingly unaware beast, perhaps sleeping off it’s wounds which shine a dark crimson in the low light. It’s plentiful enough where Historia can taste iron in the air, and it invigorates her body, adrenaline beginning to awaken her limbs. This is it, this is her moment. One fell strike and the cycle will end. The prospect shakes her fingers in excitement, the most emotion she’s felt in weeks.
Silent as a winter breeze Historia draws her axe from her side and tightens her grip upon the hilt, it’s sharpened blade yearning to cut into the scaled hide. But she practices patience, creeping ever closer upon light feet until the back of the beast is but a few meter away, the jagged scales along its body scoring the earth and trees around it with every breath.
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Historia takes a deep breath, blood roaring in her ears, and leaps.
The roar of pain and anger that erupts from the beast as the blade of her axe cuts into it’s flesh, even after hearing it thousands of times over hundreds of timelines, never fails to be music to her ears. Warm blood splatters across her face as she withdraws and jumps back, narrowly avoiding a razor studded tail sweeping across the place she was standing moments before.
The earth shakes as the beast roars again and rises to it’s feet. It’s massive head adorned with impressive golden horns reers about and golden eyes marked with reptilian slits spy the lone huntress among the trees and narrow in anger. The dragonian bares its teeth in a menacing snarl.
Quick as a snake the dragon strikes, snapping it’s fangs a hair's breadth from Historia’s body as she leaps away again, surprisingly nimble for an axe wielding, armor clad warrior. Snap. Snap. Snap. Each strike Historia dodges with ease; she knows this fight, she’s fought it hundreds of times. There’s nothing this dragon can do to surprise her.
Rolling away from another deadly strike Historia upswings, scoring her axe against the underside of the dragon’s jaw. Golden scales splinter off from the force of the blow, but the beast is strong and hearty, merely shaking it’s head as if ridding itself of a bothersome fly before striking out again, this time with dagger like claws. Historia takes shelter behind a tree only for it to be felled by the beast, sliced in half with such power and ease as if slicing through warm butter, and the earth shakes as the severed trunk crashes to the ground throwing up dead leaves and mud in every direction.
The dragon does not relent; even as old wounds from other assailants begin to reopen, spilling red ooze down it’s sides. It swipes again, felling yet another tree, and another, plowing them over in a storm of splinters and dirt.
She needs to get behind it. Historia’s eyes scan her surroundings, spying a boulder a few meters away, and makes a mad dash toward it, barely dodging another lethal strike so close it shreds the trailing ends of her clothes. Ducking behind the rocky blockade the warrior quickly pulls a potion from her belt, and when she hears the sound of the dragon getting ready to strike again, launches the potion into it’s face.
Glass shatters and suddenly the forest is filled with white hazy smoke. The dragon screeches in frustration, slashing wildly in the smoke yearning desperately to sink its claws into it’s attacker. Meanwhile Historia slips off to the side, using the smoke as a cover, and comes about it’s backside.
Perfect.
The beast had no idea what was coming until the axe’s blade was deep into it’s back. Letting out a roar it rears and tries to bite the warrior off it’s back to no avail. It’s neck is too short and thick to reach back that far. Without missing a beat, Historia, gripping onto one if it’s massive back spikes to hold herself in position, raises her axe and cuts into the flesh again.
Letting out a roar of rage the dragon leaps into the air and opens its wings only for trees to block it’s way making it impossible for it to lift off. Seeing that option not viable it next turns to jumping and shaking like a wild bull in a desperate attempt to knock the warrior off who continues to slice into the vulnerable spot on it’s back.
The beast rears again, Historia continuing her assault assuming the beast to continue it’s useless efforts, instead gasps in surprise as instead of falling forward again, it falls backwards. It’s trying to crush her!! Historia lets go, falls to the ground and tries to roll out of the way but it’s too late. The dragon's massive body crashes to the earth.
Historia lets out a pained gasp barely containing a scream as agony erupts from her legs, digging her nails into the dragon’s hide as it crushes her underneath it’s massive weight. Damn it damn it damn it!
The monster stays like that for some time, rubbing her into the dirt. But after a while it finally lets up and Historia literally feels the broken bones in her legs creak from the sudden release in pressure. Or what’s left of her legs that is. Her vision is growing hazy and dark, she tries to look at her bottom half but can only barely make out a dark red spot on the ground.
Damn it.
She feels tears well up in her eyes as she falls back, staring up at the unforgiving sky. She had it this time. She HAD it. Her throat constricts as a shadow looms over her, all muscle and anger and bared fangs. There’s nothing left for her to do.
Historia closes her eyes and bites her lip in despair and rage. Next time she swears she’ll slay it. She’ll slay it even if it takes an eternity.