The Hunt Never Ends[Lethe]

[Victor]

Leather boots quietly wrapped against the cobblestone road that ran through central-western Laus. In the fairly cloudy atmosphere he almost felt a twinge of "home" within the environment. He was used to perpetual storms. Raining almost non-stop. The sky just weeping for days on end, with little break in sight. The wind causing the pounding storm to batter away with howling fury through the darkened days. That was home. So when he'd first come to Lycia to see it so...dry his first thought was So um...where's all the water? Did you guys hide it all?. Lycia had been striking out thus far though until that, and the prior situation in which he'd found his current companion. Her body broken and battered in the open. A bloodied body left for dead alone in the open.

Yeah. Fair enough. That felt right at home.

The coat tails of leather composition trailed just barely above the ground, and Victor's right hand idly rested upon the hilt of his blades hilt while he gazed forwards through squinted hues. He lifted his other hand, gloved fingers tugging lightly at the tip of his cap while faintly pulling it as to adjust it so it fit more adequately while the wind began to pick up slightly. Unable to feel the chill though thanks to his heavy layers of clothing, the huntsman turned to briefly gaze at his traveling companion. Emerald hues idling upon her while scanning over her figure. How she walked. Studying for any sign of prevailing injury. A soft smile spread upon his lips before he turned to gaze ahead of him. Honestly, there was a warmth about him that he could not quite dissipate.

He'd gotten to see his brother again. He'd gotten to hunt with him, and he'd met his first Lycian! Well...met his first person in Lycia, that wasn't contract related. Otherwise he'd pretty much focused on just hunting. The young hunter's scarf and mask were lowered for once, and he directly felt that crisp...slightly decaying Laus air. Besides from a bit too much silence he was enjoying the walk in earnest.

The town ahead wasn't far ahead, and once they'd gotten there, Victor made a point of turning to directly address the wounded woman. His tone quiet, and his expression a bit warmer than any would expect of a hunter skilled in butchering humans better than anything. Then again, people didn't expect a meat butcher to sound a certain way just because he was a meat butcher. So why should society expect that from him? They were just being rude.

"You should check your wounds. There are plenty of places here it looks like where you could have the privacy to do that. I...am going to look for a contract."

Now that he'd left her to check on herself, and knowing one thousand percent that she was going to stay put and tend her wounds, he began to slowly browse for a notice board of any kind. Some towns had them, some didn't. This one was fairly straight forward. A small board was wedged in-between two taverns, both visibly more run down than in their primes to a degree. So when he walked forwards quietly, the huntsman began to peruse as if shopping for a new pair of gloves. Observing. Reading. Gauging. Leather clad gloved finger trailed slowly along the various papers before stopping with a brief tap at one that sounded interesting. Quietly, he mouthed it aloud.

"Monster Removal Request...Right. Seems simple enough."

Once more, he softly read aloud while his finger trailed along the small text on the requested hunt.

"Ah...hmm....Bring proof of kill. Payment upon completion. Meet with smithy post victory."

Well. This must've been serious. Often, towns would simply provide payment in two parts. Pre-hunt and the other half post-hunt. This incident however seemed to warrant more of a threat and more dire stakes. Ah. Right up my alley then, splendid~!

Extracting the paper from the board after removing the tack keeping it in place, Victor began to furl it up into his pocket before turning with intent to take a few steps towards road again. It seemed, that he had some entombed to hunt.

[Deleted]

The constant pain was never more than a heartbeat away, but it only really registered if she thought about it. So she didn't. Lethe had long since become more or less inured to it, an unpleasant but ultimately minor bit of discomfort that did little to interefere with functionality or even efficiency. She was admittedly a bit confused when Victor suggested she check her wounds though. If they were a problem she would already know, and she still didn't see what the big deal with privacy was. But whatever. He seemed to want to go on ahead without her, at least that was the sense she got, so she fell behind slightly for a time to better survey the town and herself.

Well, sort of, anyways. The town itself was fairly dull. Not a great deal going on, and no one really paid attention to her, a nondescript brown blob at the corners of periphery. She was very good at waiting for something to happen, normally she would have been happy to wait for hours without complaint... but she wasn't entirely sure she trusted Victor to not leave her behind just yet. She didn't understand him in general, really, and she didn't like not understanding things. So it didn't take long for her to follow in his footsteps, stalking silently as he moved with purpose to parts unknown. Or rather, to a board of some sort, covered in paper. Wouldn't it get wet? What did he want from there, anyways?

Requests. Interesting. She'd never had to actually... deal with them herself before, normally her handler just told her who to kill and she did it. Apparently normal hunters had to take this roundabout route. It seemed inefficient to her though, too much potential for error and mistakes. What happened if someone just walked off with the job request? What if the contractor didn't think to post it in every relevant town? There should be a centralized location... not necessarily a handler, but... hmm. Shelving the thought for future consideration, she focused on what Victor was doing, helpfully reading a job aloud.

Lethe had learned the hard way, back in that fallen town, that while she had a great deal of experience in hunting man, she did not have nearly as much knowledge of monsters. That seemed... important to remedy. An assassin who did not know how to assassinate was not much use to anyone, after all, and apparently Elibe's monster problem was far greater than she had ever realized from her isolated position. And you got PAID for jobs! That was useful information indeed. She wouldn't have to steal and mug as much as she had assumed, which was nice. Not because it was wrong, the thought never occurred to her, but because robbery of all types tended to attract unwanted attention.

"When do we leave?" Piping up from several feet behind and to the left of Victor in her usual deadpan tone, Lethe revealed her presence without further preamble or apology.

[Victor]

It was brief. Noticeable though none the less. The small gesture of surprise when he turned while hearing her voice chime in. His body jolted, briefly hesitating mid-step before quietly continuing as he stowed away the Though she wasn't right in-front of him he'd been so focused on thought dedicated to his job that he didn't expect her to still be with him. Victor paused to blink quietly towards her, tilting his head curiously. Gloved digits quietly pulling up his mask around his chin and up to his nose as if to shield his expressions. It was simply a habit prior to departing for the hunt, much like dawning a coat before stepping into the rain. He stepped past her while speaking in a soft tone.

"Immediately."

He couldn't make her do things. If she wanted to follow him he couldn't technically stop her. Strange though it was, but he was used to hunting with other people. If she was going to join him in the hunt, but she'd need to know the details. A hunter could never go into a hunt without knowing the details. There were the basics to know and the less interesting parts. Such as the "why" of the hunt. Which he'd found a bit odd.

"South of here is a small shanty town. Two specific monsters have been bothering them. Large. Human like. Powerful. Those are our targets."

Our. He didn't even know if she was in condition to fight. He had to assume he'd be fighting this on his own. So he quickened his stride a bit, hand resting on the pommel of his trick-weapon while he gazed down the Lycian town. Rain steadily descending from the darkened heavens, droplets trickling down from the brim of his hat. Leather slick with a faint glisten from the wetness, puddles slowly forming as the walk drew out. Boots splashing through them idly while mud began to cling slightly to them.

His gaze narrowing while he looked to the distant shacks, unable to discern any bodies yet. Living, or dead.

"So. How well do you think you can fight?"

[Deleted]

Interesting. He hadn't noticed her. She hadn't been trying to scare him, rather judge his awareness for future reference. There was very little gratification that she had succeeded in her goal, simply the mute recognition of potentially useful data, though there was a very small sense of satisfaction nonetheless that she didn't quite understand. Still, he had masked his reaction well, seemingly lending itself strongly to his general self control. It was also interesting that he hadn't tried to stop her. From her experience on jobs, people usually tried to stop a girl from going into potentially dangerous areas... chivalry or chauvinism, she wasn't sure what the correct word was... she didn't actually understand this any better than his reaction, but filed it, too, away for future reference.

But whatever the explanation, it was essentially irrelevant. All that mattered for now was they she had work to do, and that required a certain level of self control of her own. To push the pain from her mind and body alike as though it had never existed. She had only seen human like monsters once before, a job that had gotten very strange thanks to durable but ultimately harmless creatures that could nary leave a scratch on her, but they had been only human size. If these beasts were larger, they might well be much more threatening... but man or beast, they would die nonetheless. Lethe turned and followed her counterpart immediately.

"Understood."

--------

The walk to the target town took time and effort, but it was the sort of measured exertion she simply did rather than think about. It was second nature to move efficiently, ignoring twinges of pain and soreness, allowing her to work more on ensuring that her movement was consistent and did not stress or contort her body in such a way as to be likely to reopen stitches or bandages. That would prove... difficult when they actually found their target and were forced to fight of course. But for now, not too bad.

Victor asked a fair question while surveying what she assumed was the target village from afar, prompting a new for an honest reevaluation. She hadn't had much experience in a long time in working with partners, but her earlier experience had sometimes been with it and she knew some of the basic concepts at least - and that if she was too weak or injured to contribute, it would be an active drain on his ability to defend himself, and her. And yet despite the lack of self, a part of her still bristled at that prospect. To be the hunted, rather than the hunter. To be so weak, so useless, that she could not even be of use in the one area she knew intimately. The very concept was insulting. It SHOULD be impossible. But not necessarily.

Lethe experimentally rotated each leg separately, then bent to each side and twisted slightly. She had already run basic diagnostics but it seemed wise to more accurately gauge her body in this moment than she had in the morning or several times since with minor experiments. Her arm shot out from under her cloak, empty but held as though bearing a weapon, rotating quickly through a short set of kata with fast movements that were somewhat dulled from her normal ability but still effective enough in her mind's eye. Something to keep in mind when calculating of course, but better partial efficiency than none at all. She noted the thresholds at which the twinges of pain became more intense, the moment in which she could feel the stitches straining to the point she suspected that going much further might reopen the wounds. A routine diagnostic, performed quickly and efficiently as though it was routine. And it was. Being aware of one's exact capabilities was extremely important for an assassin after all.

"...Sixty percent," she answered after a short time, toneless in her assessment. "Enough for most targets. Strength and stamina impaired, but mobility mostly intact in shorter bursts. Will shift tactics appropriately to compensate."

Aside from being about the longest thing she'd ever said to Victor, not that there was a lot of competition in that regard, it was a relatively exhaustive evaluation albeit couched in fairly vague language. There was no mention of pain of course, that was irrelevant.

[Victor]

Victor's posture never changed as he approached the town. Gaze directed towards it, sill scanning and taking in the most minute of details. The building volume from the rain-storm making it noticeably harder to discern much beyond his own footsteps. Now causing faint splashes with each step, the ground clearly already laden with water prior from some other storm in the prior days. The leather of his coat now glistening with a full distinct sheen from the wetness, and the temperature dropping ever so slightly with a chill filling each breath. Making him all the more thankful that he was still kept both dry, and warm within his coat.

Lethe's voice was not one of boisterous tones or bombastic charisma. It was flat. Blank. AS if devoid of all emotion. That, or more akin to her simply stating the facts. Though....she kind of was. There wasn't a "I think my body is this" technically. It either was, or wasn't. So he couldn't fault her. Victor's thoughts breaking down the hunt further, he quietly began to tug at his blade while they got closer to the village.

60 Percent? Acceptable, I suppose. Could be worse, if she was going to tag along.

The metal grating upon the small clips at his belt that usually locked his blade safely away could be heard, if barely, over the cacophony of nature with the rain drops rattling around. Victor's verdite hued eyes slowly scanning the length of the road ahead, before trying to gauge at the entrances to either of the handful of shacks. Most didn't have doors. Had they been broken in? Perhaps they'd simply never had any. Small shelters like this were often made out of necessity and didn't have the luxury of comfort objects such as that. He spoke in his soft tone, slightly muffled through the mask which obscured most of his face. Raising the volume just enough to be heard in-between foot-steps and over the rain.

"Better than I'd have guessed. It shouldn't be a hard hunt. Only two prey."

Two prey, one of which was content to reveal himself almost moments after speaking. Shuffling steps drawing out the motions as the entombed began to emerge from one of the shacks. A single strong hand gripping at the internal side of the door-where its large fetid claws casually sank a few inches into the wooden working. Thick trails of darkened crimson stained it, as if it were freshly dead. That was not the case though, nor could it be. Even as Victor examined the slow moving fiend, he knew the bounty of them had been posted a few days ago. Which meant,it'd just recently killed again.

Right index finger quietly squeezed at the thin trigger running down the length of his blades spine near the hilt. While his digit moved to tug that, he lifted his hand and flicked his wrist. The sound of metal locks switching and unhinging was briefly heard before Victor cracked his wrist with a flourish. The segmented blade edges expanded as the force sent them flowing outwards with a rippling series of clicks. Blade became whip as the cracking motion sent it snapping out so that the three pronged bladed tip punctuated the air abruptly before Victor lifted the hilt a few inches and began to quicken his rate. The motion and sound had gotten the attention of another, their prey. Groaning mouth gnashing at the air between its jaws, the fiend turned to face the pair and began to sluggishly move towards them.

"Avoid my right, or left. Or immediately behind me. Few are safe from my weapon. The blades care not for friend or foe."

[Lethe]

She didn't really know much about villages, but even Lethe could tell that there were less buildings here than she was used to. It actually reminded her of one of the... earlier missions, it was fairly vague but she recalled having been ordered to terminate a target and witnesses in a smaller target area once. She couldn't remember much about the actual job. Maybe disappointment? There hadn't been much of a fight. She hadn't understood then why they had to die, and come to think of it, she still didn't see what the reasoning was. Lethe wasn't particularly broken up about the idea of people dying, and it didn't even occur to her that they might have been innocent. The word didn't have much meaning for her. But she didn't see the point in killing people when there was no need to, and it... bothered her, somewhat, that she still didn't understand it.

But then. She had never needed to understand, had she? Only do what was set before her. That, at least, was a constant. And that was something she could do. Simple. Clean. Familiar. Something to take refuge within, in this strange and confusing world of choice and consequence. While her head inclined lightly to Victor as he spoke, Lethe didn't know to actually respond - her opinion on jobs had very clearly been outlined to be worth slightly less than nothing in the past, only her obedience was relevant - and processed the data without confirmation. She had never seen a whip-sword before him and the concept intrigued her - now that she was comfortable enough with him, almost enough to consider asking for more information on it - but now was neither the time nor the place to do so.

So instead she just walked forward, purposely but furtively in how her muted movement seemed to drown beneath the tide of her cloak. Towards their foes. Towards the future. One wrought by her own hands, for better or for worse, and she nary knew the difference.

The lumbering man-beasts were swifter than she had first approximated, writhing masses of muscle and blistering flesh that rose into the air like titans. Victor's display of sound had attracted one, but the other had sighted her, as intended by presenting herself as a target. There was - almost a moment of hesitation, though she would not admit it, not even to herself. Not fear. Lethe didn't remember what fear was like, though she supposed she wished she could. But with the creature looming over her, far dwarfing her in size and strength, prepared to strike down with furious force, there was nonetheless a moment in which she did not act. Whether by choice or circumstance. Though, she thought as the hammer of sinew descended upon her, even that was a choice. Still an alien idea to her. But a relevant one nonetheless. It was almost - something. She couldn't quite think what the word was. But her body didn't care, and her wrist twitched a moment before the hammer fell.

The curving strike blasted through the air and smashed aside the fabric of her cloak, but rather than meeting and breaking her fragile flesh it found nothing but air and fabric, the browned cloak ripped aside as Lethe simply stepped to the side to avoid the strike, using the camoflage of the cloak to hide her movement until the moment of truth. And rather than flesh, the crature's arm met only steel - the smooth silver of her blade, drawn and brought up in the same breathless motion, carving a thin line in the creature's arm as it passed by. The force was far greater than she had hoped but not too far beyond what she had anticipated. The cut wasn't nearly as deep as she had hoped, either. Barely a scratch compared to bisecting the monster's arm. Her hand shook from the force but held strong as she summoned what will she could to stand firm.

The pangs of pain shooting through her were but a reminder that she still lived.

[Victor]

Sometimes he was still, briefly, surprised by the weight of his weapon. It's "whip" form had a resting state. The segmented blades extended outwards to make it look like an elongated, plated version of its cleaver form. They were always drawn back into that resting shape, but when he released the trigger in this mode it was able to follow the current of his swing into wide arcs before roughly jerking back into filed edges. The muscles in his arm were taut with preparation as the young woman addressed her prey. Victor stared down the moaning corpse that looked mixed with shambles at times and bulbous deformed muscle mass and near bursting pustules of decaying flesh at others. The corpse hadn't decided if it could be a decayed one, decaying, or simply mutated. Luckily though, all it seemed to care about was he himself.

He made sure that his strides were long, even if cautious, and moved with calculated steps around and away from Lethe. Any distance to ensure his weapon didn't accidentally hit her. It wasn't something he could readily control after all. Victor's gloved hand gripped the hilt of his weapon tighter as his gaze narrowed. Studying. The soft reverberating thuds of the beasts crawling stride were enough to indicate just how much weight it had. A good thing to notice really. He never would've pegged it as heavier than a human, or stronger by looks. Instead though of just registering its presence visually, he elected to take in all the smaller interactions it had with its environment. The heavier imprints in the ground it left when it strode. The meaty slapping sound when its limbs flailed about, which further emphasized the weight that could go behind them.

The creature broke into a sudden lunge like burst of movement when the gap had closed further, which almost caught Victor off guard. Though his eyes widened for a moment, his body had been ready and he instinctively moved in simultaneous motion. The black clad huntsman leapt backwards, sliding back with a few back pedaled hops as his arm lifted over his head once with a tremendous heave of effort. His arm brought the hilt of his blade down, and moments later the whip followed with a heavy metallic groan of grating wires and plates. The blades punctured skin and cleaved into deadened flesh with enough force to buckle the creature down so it was forced to a knee. A fraction of a second later the blades were clicking back into place along his weapon's set track into their resting state, and the creature was already starting to rise again.

Victor swept his arm from right to left as it rose. Once again the Thunk thunk thunk of his weapon unlocking punctured the air before it sank into the right side of the beast. Metal tore at flesh, and the groaning corpse simply lurched forwards. Fetid claws slashing at the air. This time Victor got a far too close view of them as the thin space where the bridge of his nose had been seconds before was swiped at. His body barely staying ahead of the claw while he retracted his weapon. The huntsman paused for a second. Examining it before he hit the panel and trigger of his weapon once more to revert it to its locked cleaver form. This time the heavy clicks of the whip locking away followed as he briefly pushed the tip of the blade against the ground and exerted downwards to firmly lock it back in place. The whip was excellent at killing feeling enemies who reacted to pain. On this foe however he'd need more force, and more direct impact. Not to mention the concern of his weapon getting stuck on its flesh and bone. Victor stood up and clutched his weapon firmly, ready for the next round while trying to figure out where best to strike.

[Lethe]

Satisfied that she could at least cut its flesh, she allowed herself to be swept aside by the force of the blow. There was no value in a contest of strength and it didn't matter anyways, so she didn't even try. Hurled aside like an abandoned doll, but uninjured, it was trivial to land on her feet. No longer clad in her cloak, the belts and lacking fabric of her uniform revealed. Wrist sore from even the glancing blow the creature's blow had landed, but the pain was a welcome rejoinder. Motivation of its own, as pain always was. It was swifter than expected, and stronger too, but that merely meant she had to be swifter yet.

Elsewhere the clicking sound of Victor's weapon rang through the town, a screeching groan of steel and wire as grating to her nerves as to the quiet it had interrupted, but enough to distract the creature she was facing for a split second.

And that was enough, a burst of water and puff of dirt the only remnants of her existence for a moment before her blade found some purchase in the creature's side, a shallow, ultimately harmless cut that had intended to be more. But it was just a distraction in the end. Converting her momentum from linear to angular, she ignored the strain and pain shooting through her arm as she hooked upward, rotating on the forearm creature's left arm. Spinning upwards, hooking her right leg around the creature's shoulder to arrest her movement as her blade sang across its throat. A thin ribbon of red blossoming brightly, a shallow cut across the jugular as its tough skin failed to entirely break beneath her blade but also failed to stop it entirely. An opportunity lost, but avoiding its scrabbling arms the blade sliced through the right arm's musculature, deeper this time. Not enough to disarm it by any means. But cutting a few tendons in the process. Weakening its strength to a degree.

As she landed she could feel her body screaming protest, the lightning fast movement clearly beyond her physical limits in this injured state. She suppressed the grimace, but was forced to halt her assault for a moment nonetheless to recover, giving the creature an unwanted chance to do the same despite her best intentions...

[Victor]

Victor's hand gripped his cleaver tightly. Blackened leather stretching quietly in protest. The faint dispersed heat of his muffler intercepting his exhale spread across his chin and cheeks, as his eyes slowly narrowed. The weight felt just right. Every time he held that cleaver, if simply felt so... natural. The metal whip stage of his weapon had saved the huntsman's life many times over, yet when it was contracted. The center point of gravity was so much closer, and responded so firmly. It was nearly impossible to see that faint outline of his lips against the mask, as they curved into the slightest of grins...

The shambling corpse groaned as it shuffled closer. Yet this time, the huntsman's boots began to shift across the dirt with crisp steps crunching against the gaia bedding as he moved towards the beastly corpse. His wrist flicked through the air as his arm lashed upwards, and out, stretching out as he lunged to the right with a single nimble motion. Undead nails lashed through the air he'd just occupied, but unlike before where he evaded and gained distance, Victor brought his arm down with brutal strength. The serrated cleaver sank into flesh and muscle and sinew with a sicking wet crunch that drifted into a steady ripping tear as he continued his momentum enough to begin sawing through the corpses shoulder. His left hand swiftly clutched the handle as well to apply further pressure as the huntsman shifted onto the balls of his feet.

Another groan left the lifeless husk as it attempted to lift its left arm. Victor's arms tightened, taut like iron bindings as he sank further into its arm. The left shoulder began to lean away from the body, as flesh and muscle and diseased rotting bone gave way to the cleaver. Before he could fully remove the limb however, Victor's eyes darted to the right hand now lifting upwards. With a swift upwards shift, he freed his blade from diseased meat and extracted it. Lurching backwards at that second sweep, Victor's dark coat narrowly avoided being shredded at the undead beasts hands. He rushed forward in retaliation, bedding his cleaver into its right shoulder, his left hand pressing to the back upper length of his cleaver's blunt side to further drive it inwards as he threw himself into the beast. A grunt, another application of crushing pressure to guide the sharpened butchers blade, and it began to crunch and crack and shred itself down through that shoulder. There was no hesitation in the beast despite this. No cry of pain. No sign of struggle due to impairment of the injuries. It's body pressed back into his and it began to raise the very arm he was attempting to sever. The other, still dangling useless at its left side as its more successfully severed section of torso began to slowly drift lower as the undead flesh tore at its own weight.

He was forced to briefly disengage, for fear of being gripped by a creature that did not find itself restricted physically by pain of over exertion. The huntsman began to back-tread in lengthy strides as he gave a sizable distance between himself, and his prey. His eyes darted towards Lethe for a single moment. Ensuring she hadn't died, before he looked back to the beast. Victor's arm cranked out to the side again as he swept his weapon through the air. Rotten flesh and murky blood flew to the ground below as it became slightly less adorned in viscera, before he began striding steadily towards the beast once more. Ready to test the durability of its right shoulder one more time.