It had been three hours since the beginning of the hunt, and their quarry still showed no signs of losing momentum. Worse yet, the light snowfall that had drifted through in the hours prior had now grown into a raging blizzard, putting a strain on both the party's vision and endurance as they scanned the featureless plains for their target.

“You see anything?” The huntress called out, her voice all but swallowed by the roar of the storm around them.

“Nah, I got nothing” Came the reply. Another hunter stumbled towards her through the ever-deepening trenches of snow, his struggle made more apparent by the heavy steel polearm raised by his side.

“Well,” she chuckled, “It's a good thing one of us came prepared.” She took the glaive from her back and gave it a dramatic twirl above her head, before slamming the butt of the staff firmly into the ground. As the force of the impact resonated up the weapon, its bladed head split in two, revealing a long, slender compartment down the weapon's haft that housed a glowing blue insect. The bug quickly awoke and started looping around its master excitedly, much to her company's dismay.

“I know you like bugs and all, but can you please try to keep that thing away from me? You know insects rub me the wrong way.”

“Don't talk about Chi that way! Besides, I don't see you coming up with any bright ideas to track the Barioth.”

“She has a point,” Came a third voice, barely audible above the howling gale. A tall, broad shadow slowly emerged from the blizzard, dragging a great two-handed claymore through the snow behind him. Following in the weapon's track was a much smaller man, doubled over and draped in a leather shroud as to protect himself from the weather..

“If the Barioth's done a runner, that bug's our best shot at relocating her.” the voice continued, now clearly belonging to the man in front. “Which way did she head?”

“Let me get this straight.” Came the voice of the hunter behind him. “You want me to follow a bug through a blizzard in tundra in the middle of the night? I was paid for a hunt, not some asinine wild goose chase.”

The greatsword-weilder turned; “And the reason we have to track the monster is because you didn't do your job. Those throwing knives of yours aren't so effective in this weather, are they?”

The hunter sneered, but said nothing in response, simply turning his head and muttering under his breath. Seemingly oblivious to the tension, the insect glaiver chattered excitedly to her bug, so engaged in the conversation one could swear it was talking back.

“South!” She called out a moment later, loud and sudden enough that the lance user jumped in surprise.

“South huh?” The greatsworder replied, falling in line beside his comrades. “Lucky for us then, the weather should be a tad more hospitable in that direction.” The girl skipped off in pursuit of her companion, with the sour-faced hunter tailing her reluctantly.

“She's a nutjob.” The lancer muttered.
“Maybe” his companion chuckled, “But she's the best we've got to go on right now.”


The Barioth emerged into the forest clearing, panting heavily. Unbeknownst to her, above her in the trees, shadows twitched and shifted at her arrival, their embrace shrouding the identity of an equally lithe and dangerous predator. The monster stared down at her, its deep yellow eyes unblinking as they drank in the situation before them. This area of the tundra was unusual territory for a Barioth – uneven, rocky ground hidden beneath the deep drifts of snow made the forests difficult to traverse on the ground, and it was clear from the ravaged path the monster had torn through the woodlands that she was not familiar with the area. The monster watched as the Barioth quickly regained her composure, the caution returning to her as her eyes sharpened and ears twitched, listening for the most minute of sounds. The monster worried that he had already been detected, before the source of the Barioth's nervousness made itself clear.

From the path the Barioth had cut moments before leapt a man, body swathed in a thin leather coat lined with daggers, knives, and various other small weapons. Before he'd even hit the ground, he'd sent out a flurry of throwing knives, catching the Barioth off-guard and lodging themselves between the thick armoured plates on the monster's back.

“She's down, finish her off!” He called out as he hit the ground, falling into a low crouch as the rest of his backup emerged from the undergrowth.

The shadow watched as the Barioth turned to charge the emerging hunters, and saw as her legs ceased up mere meters from her prey, her vicious attack reduced to a clumsy tumble forward. The monster landed roughly on her side, struggling furiously as paralysis gripped her.

“What was that you said about not doing my job?” The hunter shot at his companions as they nonchalantly approached the monster.

“Sneak attack, huh? Can't say I'm surprised.” Another replied as he hefted the wide steel blade from his back.

“Aim for the nape of the neck.” The knifewielder muttered. “I want those tusks intact, they'll sell for a small fortune to the right people.”

The claymore wielder let out a tired sigh as he hefted the great blade over his head in an arcing swing, his prey shuddering with barely contained fury and primal strength beneath him. It was then that the shadows above the poachers came to life.

The Nargacuga was on top of the party in an instant, the ebony blades of its wings deflecting the claymore's blow with ease as he barrelled into the Barioth's side, sending her tumbling into one of the dunes of snow around the edges of the clearing. The weapon's wielder, thrown back by the deflected blow, quickly recovered, turning his weapon on its side and and forming with it a full-body shield. Another hunter vaulted over the bulwark and landed on the panther's neck, drawing a carving knife from her belt. Before she had time to deliver a killing blow however, the monster threw his weight to one side, rolling onto his back and burying the hunter in a torrent of blinding snow, before quickly scrambling back to his feet in anticipation of the next blow.

It was then that the Barioth recovered from its earlier blow, stumbling out of the snow drift in a daze. She quickly recovered though as she drank in the situation, and the realisation of what the monster before her had done dawned on her. The two wyverns shared a glance, and for a brief moment the Barioth's eyes seemed to soften, almost as if she was trying to thank the Narga for saving her. The moment was short lived however as the knife-wielding hunter made another reckless charge at her, drawing more blades from the leather pauldron on his shoulder. The Barioth pulled her body to one side as the hunter approached, before throwing her weight against him and tossing his body aside as her abdomen crashed into him with phenomenal force. The hunter flew backwards and landed with a crack against one of the rocky outcroppings jutting from the ground. He rose a few moments later, though much more slowly than what was normal for hunters, the blow clearly having done some lasting damage.

Before the Narga had time to swoop in for the killing blow, the lancer and greatsword-weilder cut him off and prepared to counterattack. The monster whipped its tail round, its flexibility catching the lancer off-guard and checking his ribs with a cut from its barbed tip. The man cursed as he crept forward, shield now raised against further attack. The greatsword wielder dropped his guard as he approached behind his comrade, the pair's attention focused solely on him. It was then that an idea flared in the panther's mind. Glancing quickly to his side revealed that the knifewielder had not yet fully recovered, leaving the Barioth unoccupied with any incoming attacks. The Nargacuga leapt to the side, his bladed wing brushing against the greatsword-wielder's face, standing as a defiant taunt. As predicted, the two hunters turned again to face him, leaving their backs completely open. Realising the opportunity, the Barioth lunged towards the pair of hunters, inhaling the frigid air around her and releasing it atop the hunters in a devastating blast, turning the area around them into a localized blizzard. Blinded by the flurry, the Nargacuga leapt backwards, flinching slightly as roughly-hewn hailstones thrown up by the attack ricocheted off of his face. It took a good five seconds for the storm to clear, but when it did, it revealed the two hunters lying motionless, their armors glaciated with a thin powder of ice crystals. The monsters breathed a shared sigh of relief as the urge to fight left them, and shared a glance of gratitude and admiration before a high-pitched war cry from behind them snapped them back to reality.

The glaive wielding huntress had long since recovered from the Nargacuga's earlier attack, and now burst roaring from the drifts of snow. The two monsters turned, ready to unleash another attack, although the girl's bravado quickly faltered as she came across the bodies of her now unconscious comrades.