Celeste Nirmand
(Hunter)
Celeste dumped her small pack beneath an ash tree at the edge of a conveniently-placed clearing and slumped down beside it, burying her face in her hands and groaning. She plucked some bread out of her pack and ate it, irritated. It tasted like bark, and she definitely knew how that tasted like. Yuck.
How could the chase have gone so wrong? She’d tracked and followed the werewolf just right. Fingering a Zar’nath while chewing absent-mindedly, she recounted the events and tried to understand what went wrong.
She’d first gotten wind of the rogue werewolf while eating at a tavern, trying to get her strength back from her last chase. (It went rather successfully; she’d managed to bag a vampire for a reasonable price.) Soon after, she had gone to pay the Job Centre a quick visit, and sure enough, the job of capturing it was there, as if waiting for her. It boasted a 20,000-jewel reward, and claimed that it was weak and would be easy to kill. She didn’t hesitate, and took the job.
“Weak and easy to kill. Yeah, right,” she scoffed.
The opportunity to stake out the nonhuman presented itself to her in the form of the young man manning the counter at the Centre. She chatted him up and had the location where the werewolf was reported rogue in almost no time at all, albeit with the promise of a drink once she had returned, victorious. Right after a quick restocking of her supplies for the quick job, she’d set out for the farmhouse that the werewolf was said to be terrorising. The owner had greeted her suspiciously, and pointed her in the direction where the werewolf had been attacking his livestock. She’d known she’d arrived when she had seen the sheep-sized bloodstains on the grass, leading straight into the nearby woods. She would wait for nightfall before beginning the hunt. And she did.
That night, a lone sheep squealed loudly in pain as it was fallen and dragged away. The sound woke Celeste from her light slumber. Strapping her pack and sword more tightly onto her back to prevent herself from making excess noise, she set off after the nonhuman at an easy pace. She lost sight of the werewolf after a while, and she cursed its unnatural speed. The blood trail ceased as well, and only its tracks enabled her to keep following. But that was no deterrent to her. She’d learnt her skills well from her old master. The tracks led her deeper and deeper into the forest, but they had also slowly gotten fresher and fresher. Sensing that the nonhuman was getting close, she drew her sword and approached slowly, using the trees as a cover and hacking her way through the dense vegetation as silently as was possible.
That had been her first mistake, she reluctantly noted.
But then again, who knew the nonhuman had an affinity with the earth? She cursed the job notice for not mentioning that.
She had managed to get close enough to her target to see it. But then the stupid werewolf had been alerted of her presence almost immediately, and taken off so quickly she could have sworn it disappeared. She followed at a sprint that she was only able to keep at for about fifteen minutes. Her forte was long-distance tracking and hunting, not a fast-paced chase through a part of the forest she didn’t know! She recalled herself leaning against a tree, trying to catch her breath from running with a drawn sword.
Celeste cursed yet again. This target was making out to be quite some trouble for her. And it wasn’t helping her civilities, either. She had no choice but to continue tracking the next day. Dragging herself to her feet and shrugging on her pack again, she made her way back to her inn, hoping to catch at least a few hours of sleep before sunrise.
(Hunter)
Celeste dumped her small pack beneath an ash tree at the edge of a conveniently-placed clearing and slumped down beside it, burying her face in her hands and groaning. She plucked some bread out of her pack and ate it, irritated. It tasted like bark, and she definitely knew how that tasted like. Yuck.
How could the chase have gone so wrong? She’d tracked and followed the werewolf just right. Fingering a Zar’nath while chewing absent-mindedly, she recounted the events and tried to understand what went wrong.
She’d first gotten wind of the rogue werewolf while eating at a tavern, trying to get her strength back from her last chase. (It went rather successfully; she’d managed to bag a vampire for a reasonable price.) Soon after, she had gone to pay the Job Centre a quick visit, and sure enough, the job of capturing it was there, as if waiting for her. It boasted a 20,000-jewel reward, and claimed that it was weak and would be easy to kill. She didn’t hesitate, and took the job.
“Weak and easy to kill. Yeah, right,” she scoffed.
The opportunity to stake out the nonhuman presented itself to her in the form of the young man manning the counter at the Centre. She chatted him up and had the location where the werewolf was reported rogue in almost no time at all, albeit with the promise of a drink once she had returned, victorious. Right after a quick restocking of her supplies for the quick job, she’d set out for the farmhouse that the werewolf was said to be terrorising. The owner had greeted her suspiciously, and pointed her in the direction where the werewolf had been attacking his livestock. She’d known she’d arrived when she had seen the sheep-sized bloodstains on the grass, leading straight into the nearby woods. She would wait for nightfall before beginning the hunt. And she did.
That night, a lone sheep squealed loudly in pain as it was fallen and dragged away. The sound woke Celeste from her light slumber. Strapping her pack and sword more tightly onto her back to prevent herself from making excess noise, she set off after the nonhuman at an easy pace. She lost sight of the werewolf after a while, and she cursed its unnatural speed. The blood trail ceased as well, and only its tracks enabled her to keep following. But that was no deterrent to her. She’d learnt her skills well from her old master. The tracks led her deeper and deeper into the forest, but they had also slowly gotten fresher and fresher. Sensing that the nonhuman was getting close, she drew her sword and approached slowly, using the trees as a cover and hacking her way through the dense vegetation as silently as was possible.
That had been her first mistake, she reluctantly noted.
But then again, who knew the nonhuman had an affinity with the earth? She cursed the job notice for not mentioning that.
She had managed to get close enough to her target to see it. But then the stupid werewolf had been alerted of her presence almost immediately, and taken off so quickly she could have sworn it disappeared. She followed at a sprint that she was only able to keep at for about fifteen minutes. Her forte was long-distance tracking and hunting, not a fast-paced chase through a part of the forest she didn’t know! She recalled herself leaning against a tree, trying to catch her breath from running with a drawn sword.
Celeste cursed yet again. This target was making out to be quite some trouble for her. And it wasn’t helping her civilities, either. She had no choice but to continue tracking the next day. Dragging herself to her feet and shrugging on her pack again, she made her way back to her inn, hoping to catch at least a few hours of sleep before sunrise.