The forest was quiet - the only sounds were the chitter-chatter of the birds, and the muffled steps Amalric took on the leaf-littered floor. He was crouched, a chipped shortsword in his right hand, and his body adjourned in shabby leather armour. It was all he could afford at the Adventurers’ Guild’s equipment store with what Ellanher gave him. Yet, it would do, and he supposed that was the point of the monetary gift.
All of a sudden, thunder struck. He felt rain beginning to drop on his hair, and the antelope he was following ran towards him, attempting to speed past him. Before it could do so, he lunged forward and swung his sword horizontally from left to right, slicing easily through the bottom of its neck. Blood splattered across his sword and chest, as the headless creature slumped to the floor.
He huffed as the rain began to pour heavily, and decided to get this over with quick. He crouched back down and grabbed its antler, cutting the pair of them off and pocketing them. Amalric did the same with the creature’s legs, but instead threw them away, then reached into his pocket for a folded up piece of cloth. He unfolded it and wrapped it around the creature, allowing him to easily pick it up and carry it by the top of the cloth.
A screen popped up in front of him, after he did so.
LEVEL UP! INCREASE ONE ATTRIBUTE
After a few seconds of contemplating, he pressed the arrow next to Dexterity, and as he did so, the exhaustion in his body seemed to disappear, his body becoming lighter and his posture straightening. It was a strange sensation, but it was not unpleasant. He chucked the cloth-carried antelope over his back, and began to hastily walk in the direction he came, eager to go back to the city and escape the rain.
Creaaaaak-
Amalric’s head darted to the side and upwards, to the source of the noise. Hunched over and crouched on the branch of a tree, like a gargoyle, was a man with shaggy black hair and a long red coat. His head moved up so that his eyes could meet Amalric’s. The man’s sclera were black, and his irises glowed red. His face was angular and defined, and while his forehead was covered by his black fringe, a scar went from his cheek, past his right eye, and into his forehead, disappearing under his bangs. A line of smaller dotted scars went from the left corner of his mouth to the top of his cheek.
With the meeting of their eyes, the man’s brow furrowed, then relaxed as he grinned. “I suppose you’ve caught me. Anyway, tell me your name.” Amalric’s eyebrow raised. “Quickly!”
“Uh, Amalric….”
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The man laughed. “Bullshit. I already knew it. But you can call me Cyne.” He pulled out of the inside of his coat a long flintlock pistol, the bottom of it made of fine wood and the top covered in an ornately designed metal plate. Amalric’s eyes widened, and he quickly swung his sword. It met with the bullet of the gun just in time, sparks flying and his arm falling to his side from the extreme force.
Shit.
Cyne laughed again, the gun still pointed at him. “Impressive moves. But I know your situation, or at least some of it.” He placed the ornate pistol back into his coat. “I’ll end you with my bare hands instead.” The grin stuck to his face, as he moved to a standing position from his crouch. He moved a foot forward into the air, and then–
A fist made contact with Amalric’s face, as he felt his body move at an incomprehensible speed, until his back slammed against a tree. The tree itself cracked in two and fell to the floor behind him, but he didn’t notice it, for darkness began to encroach around his eyes.
Cyne was ahead of him, walking slowly this time, instead of whatever the fuck speed he was travelling at just prior. The man’s white sweater underneath his red coat had a splatter of blood on it, probably spat from Amalric’s mouth after the punch. In fact, he felt a metallic warmth leak from his mouth, and it made him spit on the floor in front of him.
Amalric watched as Cyne twisted round to face someone behind him. “Ah. You. I suppose you would be interested in Diefenbach as well.”
“Out of here, hunter. Your Guild has no business interfering with the Association’s affairs.” It was Ellanher’s voice. How did she know to show up now? Did she follow him here?
Cyne seemed to be glaring at her for a few seconds. Then, he spoke - “So be it. But just you know, vamp, the Association can’t protect your kind for much longer.” He disappeared into a mist of smoke, which hastily dissipated.
Ellanher approached Almaric and stuck out a hand. He grabbed it and their strength together pulled him up. He still felt weak in the stomach and knees, and his face burned with intense pain, but he was managing to still live. As he was picked up, the rain around them cleared, and the rays of the sun emerged through the forest leaves.
“I’m glad I didn’t leave you alone. I had no idea the Hunters’ Guild would move against you like that. And how did they know your identity…?” She was more thinking aloud, than questioning him, so he chose not to answer.
“Thank you, Ellanher,” he said. His speech slurred from the pain in his cheek, but it was comprehensible at least.
“Don’t sweat it. Look, there’s no way to protect yourself from malevolence in this world. You just need to get stronger in order to fight to protect yourself, you know?” He nodded. “Well, I’ll help you get back to town. When you get to the Adventurers’ Guild Hall, look for a man named Haldric. Tell him I sent you, and he’ll help you train. Anyway, you ready?”
Amalric nodded again, trudging over to the antelope corpse he had procured and picking it up. From there, the two began to head back to the city, walking along the beaten path once they emerged back to it.