Hunters: Rising

By David Greer

Monsters are everywhere in Arlynd. They steal crops and livestock from farmers, and occasionally attack people. They’re a nuisance in every town and village. It’s always been this way. Hunters defend their hometowns against monsters so that everyone else may go about their lives. Over the generations people have learned to cope with monsters. But something is changing that. The monsters are growing in number. They are attacking more ferociously and strategically. If things continue this way, monsters threaten to overrun all of Arlynd.

But what is behind this change in behavior? Grimey, a longtime hunter from the small town of Quarry, wants to figure this out. When a pair or mysterious visitors come to Quarry, Grimey finds himself thrust into a journey that takes him far from home to discover the true threat to Quarry and all of Arlynd.

• Language: English
• Publisher: David Greer
• Release date: Oct 12, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301454587

David Greer

Aloha! I'm a new author but longtime writer. I've always enjoyed fantasy-adventure stories in all sorts of forms be it movies, books, and video games. My favorites include Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit, Star Wars, Harry Potter, Final Fantasy 7, Ranger's Apprentice, Halo, and so on. Writing has always been a knack of mine, I love creating stories and characters. It helps keep my creative juices flowing and serves as a line of defense against the daily mundane. So a few years ago I decided to make a legitimate effort toward writing a novel. Thus began the creation of my first novel Hunters-Rising, the first of a series. I hope you check it out and enjoy it. Cheers!

Book preview

Hunters

Rising

by

David Greer

Published by David Greer at Smashwords

Copyright 2013 by David Greer

Cover Art by Sean Roberts

Smashwords Edition License Notes

Thank you for downloading this free ebook. You are welcome to share it with your friends. This book may be reproduced, copied and distributed for non-commercial purposes, provided the book remains in its complete original form. If you enjoyed this book, please return to Smashwords.com and keep an eye out for upcoming works by this author. Thank you for your support.

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Author's Note:

Thank you, thank you, thank you for downloading this book. Thank you to my family and friends that supported me while creating this story. And many thanks to those who provided encouragement, let me bounce ideas off them, and gave a look at the story while I was writing it to offer editing advice and ideas. Finally, a big thanks to my friend Sean Roberts for lending his creative talents in making the cover art. To the readers: please enjoy!

Prologue

The full moon shone bright in the clear night sky, illuminating a white sandy beach below. The light reflected off the ocean surface creating the effect of diamonds floating on the water. Mailee, her eyes fully adjusted to the night, admired how the water sparkled with the moon and stars above. The young girl strolled lazily taking in the view and the cool night air. She enjoyed having the beach all to herself while the rest of the island slept.

Not long ago Mailee was also asleep but she stirred awake and her eyes would not doze shut again. Some strange feeling had her attention and wouldn't let go. It was a nagging curiosity and a strange urge that spurred Mailee awake. She sat up in her bed, a soft cushion held in a hand carved wooden frame, reached her hands high up and extended her back. Relief washed over her as blood began to flow more freely throughout her body.

The strange feeling that woke Mailee urged her to the ocean. She tied her straight black hair back, tiptoed outside, and quietly made her way through the small village careful not to make a sound. She didn't want to wake her parents, or anybody else for that matter. The people of Northern Island worked hard during the day and valued a good night of undisturbed sleep. Even though it was doubtful anybody would hear the light footsteps of a young girl, she was careful nonetheless. She hunched over as she moved with the illusion that if she was harder to see she would also be more difficult to hear.

Mailee made her way to the beach to a spot she and her father frequently visited. She could hear his voice telling her how the ocean always calmed his mind when it got too cluttered and busy. Unconsciously, Mailee reached for the seashell necklace her father had made for her. It was a simple necklace. A series of small, flat shells that naturally had a hole in the middle of them were strung in order of size. Larger shells, which were barely the size of Mailee's thumb, were strung at the front of the necklace and smaller shells were strung at the back. The pendant was a single spiral seashell. The smooth curves of the shell gave the small girl a sense of comfort and warmth.

Small waves flowed onto the shore and caressed the sand as they receded. Mailee felt calm wash over her. A soft breeze and aromas of ocean spray stroked the air. The urge that brought Mailee to the ocean was satisfied but the curiosity of why was not. She untied her hair and let it flow freely in the breeze and plopped down on the sand.

Mailee hoped something amazing would happen. She was in the middle of a very nice dream when whatever it was that woke her up roused her from her slumber. The young girl had been dreaming that she was flying over the ocean. Wind blew through her hair, the ocean stirred beneath her. It was exhilarating. And then she woke up and was now sitting on the beach.

Content that she would not be falling back asleep Mailee figured a daydream would have to do. But would a daydream at night would be called a night-dream, she wondered, and if it was any different from a regular dream. Her brow furrowed at the thought, then she smiled when she realized the difference: Her eyes would be closed if it were a regular dream.

Suddenly, something shook her. It came from nowhere and everywhere at the same time. But Mailee was all alone on the beach. It was the ground shaking. It rocked the young girl back and forth and tossed her sideways. She laid on her side propped up on her elbow, tears filled the girl's eyes as fear gripped her. Mailee had only heard about rumbles but never experienced one herself. Stories of the ground shaking villages to rubble and tearing open holes in the earth so large that entire islands were swallowed up raced through her mind. Mailee feared the island would be swallowed into the ocean. A tear streaked down her cheek and she let out a helpless whimper. The earth shook violently for several moments but as suddenly as the rumble began, it ended.

Everything was calm. Everything was quiet. Everything was still.

Mailee staggered to her feet. She looked around and let out a sigh of relief to find that everything was as it should be. The trees were still planted in the ground and the island was still above the water. Then that feeling that urged her awake tickled the back of Mailee's mind. Upon the horizon, illuminated by the moonlight, something was approaching. A powerful wind blew across the sea and swept across the island. It sent the young girl staggering backward several steps until she found her footing and braced against the gale. The air grew incredibly hot. Mailee squeezed her eyes shut against the wind and the heat and held her arms up to protect her face. Then everything was calm again.

She thought it was all over. The rumble had passed and the strange hot wind passed. But the young girl held her eyes firmly shut. Then Mailee realized with horror that she had seen something approaching and wind is not something she should be able to see. Still gripping her seashell necklace, Mailee opened her eyes.

The gale came from the north and swept across everything in its path and a massive wall of water followed it. What the young girl on the beach had seen was the moonlight reflecting off of the wave's crest as it rose up higher and higher into the air. The massive wave washed over the small island wiping everything and everybody away. Nobody on the island saw it coming except for the young girl. And it was the last thing her eyes ever saw.

Across the sea to the north, beyond the point where the ocean crashed into black rocky cliffs, loomed a mountain infamous for its dull reddish color. Deep beneath the crimson mountain a beast that hadn't been seen for centuries and had been lost to myth and folklore began to stir.

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Chapter 1

The sun broke over the horizon and lit up a white-faced mountain. Several workers, already sweaty, chipped away at its rocky face. Pick-axes broke away slabs of granite to be hauled to stone-cutters. Chisels tapped away at marble, carefully extracting small pieces to be taken to craftsmen for polishing and shaping. The tapping of chisels and steady beat of pick-axes echoed off the white mountain walls but one tool was indiscreetly louder than the rest. Loud clanging crashes rang out again and again as an axe crashed against the rock and chomped away at the mountain. The axe was cutting out a large chunk of marble, which was almost ready to fall to the ground. The loud racket caught the attention of several other workers.

Hey Grimey, isn't that chunk of marble a bit large for the stone-crafters? a worker said, beads of sweat dripped down his brow freely as the sun warmed the morning air. Workers rose early in order to do most of the mining before the sun got too hot. Miners would load up on rocks to trade and sell to craftsmen. With marble, the smaller and rounder rocks were often the big sellers.

Who said anything about them crafters, eh Marty? Grimey said, his voice rough, This one's for me.

Grimey had been working on cutting out a piece of marble and with a final overhead swing of his axe a chunk roughly two square feet in size broke off and fell to the ground with a thud. Satisfied, Grimey holstered his axe across his back, bent his knees and hoisted the heavy rock up in his arms while being careful to keep his back straight. With a grunt he lifted the rock easily and cradled it against his chest. Marty stared wide-eyed, always impressed by the burly man's strength but also amused at how Grimey's beard brushed the top surface of the marble. Its first polish.

Can't be up here just for the traders and crafters. I like to keep a few cuts for myself. Grimey said. With that said, his work for the morning was over and Grimey made his way along the pathway that wound along the mountainside and eventually led down the mountain into Quarry Town.

Grimey strolled through the houses and workshops along the north side of town. Kitchens were alive as wives cooked breakfast for the early morning farmers, stone-workers, blacksmiths, and the many other men who rose at predawn to do their work. The aroma of breads, bacon, and meats filled the air.

He passed a few people along the road who marveled at how Grimey casually carried a chunk of stone through the town. It wasn't the only way he stood out either. Grimey was the only one in Quarry with a full beard, he spoke with a rough, raspy voice, and he had a scar that ran vertically over his right eye. Grimey was also one of the largest men in town. He was tall and powerfully built with a strength developed from years of hard work in the mountain.

Despite his rough exterior, most in Quarry had grown to know Grimey as a jolly person. Those that passed him greeted him kindly. And they didn't question why he was carrying a large piece of marble. The people of Quarry generally left the man to his own.

Grimey continued along the road and passed by the White Rock Tavern and Inn at the center of town. The White Rock housed travelers, professional drinkers, and the like. It appeared lifeless this early in the morning but it would surely come to life near sunset.

After passing the tavern Grimey followed a path that led to the southeast region of town. A modest house with an equally modest barn marked McGrady's farm. Livestock grazed within their fences and crops were just starting to sprout out from the ground. McGrady produced enough to feed himself and his wife, Marian, throughout the year and have a little left over to take to market for a small profit. Grimey let a small smile wrinkle his beard as he passed the farm. He respected McGrady's self-reliance. A little ways past the small farm stood a modest cabin attached to a small workshop. Grimey's home.

Large chunks of granite and marble, not unlike the piece of rock Grimey was carrying, outlined a path from the dirt road to the front door. Each rock was broken from the white mountain and shaped by Grimey's own hands to decorate the outside of his home. It also gave him an excuse to take rock home for his own hobby, which very few knew of. The marble he carried this day would not grace the front of his cabin but would go straight to the workshop to be chiseled and carved.

Waiting for him at the doorstep was a basket filled with fruits, vegetables and a few cuts of meat. Grimey's smile grew a little more. He also appreciated the gifts his neighbor would leave from time to time. Since his hands were full, he propped opened the front door with his hip and used his feet to kick and slide the basket inside. Some fruits and vegetables fell out and spilled onto the floor. No matter though, a little dirt and dust just adds flavor, Grimey reasoned. He left the basket and the scattered mess on the floor and headed to his workshop at the back of the cabin.

Grimey's home was simple. He entered into a small common area with a quaint kitchen area to the left. A small pile of firewood was stacked on the floor to provide a flame for the stove. The common area extended to the right. There was a round wooden table with two chairs, one of which hadn't been moved in so long that dust had formed an outline on the floor. Along the far wall was a fireplace with another pile of firewood stacked on the floor. There wasn't much furniture in the room. Grimey had stuffed an oversized burlap sack with cotton, grass, leaves, and other soft material to form a makeshift sofa which was placed in the center of the room near the fireplace.

A hallway extended to the back of the house. A door to the right led to Grimey's bedroom, fully equipped with a bed and window. Wooden floorboards creaked beneath Grimey's feet as he made his way down the hallway, passed his bedroom, to another door at the end of the hall. This door led to the Grimey's workshop.

The workshop was an open space with a fireplace in the near right corner. A forge and anvil was set up near the left wall which was lined with a variety of different axes, most of which had dulled blades from chopping into rock face of the white mountain. Below the axes were a row of hatchets with sharpened pristine blades. At the center of the wall hung a large axe with a heavy, finely sharpened blade, and a sturdy wooden handle tipped with a metal pommel. Grimey's great-axe. Against the opposite wall was a workbench lined with chisels, hammers, rags, and different types of paper of varying textures all used for shaping, smoothing, and polishing rocks. The wall that connected to the main cabin was lined with shelves displaying several stone-works. At the center of the shelf was a stone mug carved from a single square-foot chunk of marble. It sat atop a pile of stone ice cubes carved from the same piece of marble. Nothing was quite as refreshing as a chilled mug of ale. The back wall of the workshop wasn't actually a wall. It was a large double-door that opened to the back of the cabin where Grimey could head into the nearby woods or walk over to McGrady's.

Grimey set his new chunk of marble on the workbench. He'd tend to it later. He pushed open the double-doors at the back to let in the fresh morning air and he took a look outside. The woods, a few hundred meters away, swayed in the breeze but there was something odd that caught Grimey's eye. A movement of some sort in the trees. Grimey had thought he saw a streak of something purple in the trees. Or were his eyes playing tricks? No matter. It concerned him little. If anything happened, he'd deal with it then. Now was the time for breakfast. And it was waiting for him on the floor.

Little did he know, however, that something in the trees had been watching him since he got home. It waited for an opportunity to get at the man with the basket of food and now was its chance. The creature had almost closed its own window of opportunity by being spotted but the man didn't seem to notice and had gone back inside leaving the double-doors wide open. Saliva dripped from its fangs, its yellow eyes focused on the doorway, and the creature spread its wings to take flight.

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Chapter 2

It edged out on the branch of a tree with its wings spread ready to take flight. Its talons dug into the branch, its legs flexed and it dove into the air. The creature glided effortlessly toward the wide open double-doors. Its yellow eyes narrowed and focused on the doorway. The man had brought in a basket of food and the creature was hungry. It hoped to taste some sweet fruits and hopefully some fresh meat. These people sometimes had cuts of meat perfect for the taking. But if not it could just as easily take a bite out of the man or tear off some of his flesh with its talons to take back to the woods. It bared its saliva-drenched fangs at the thought of the meal. The creature sped into the doorway.

It was promptly met with a fist to its face. The creature crashed hard onto the floor and didn't move.

Damn banshees. Grimey muttered. He took a bite out of an apple and shook out his hand. The cracking sound and the twisted position the banshee laid in assured Grimey it was dead. He grimaced at the sight of a banshee on his floor, took a step and punted the corpse out of his workshop. Then he strolled back into the kitchen to finish preparing his breakfast.

Later that morning there was a knock at Grimey's door. It was McGrady, his neighbor and long time friend. One of the only people Grimey could call a friend. McGrady lived with his wife Marian just across the way from Grimey's cabin. The two ran a small farm, which provided just enough for them to get by.

The farmer had on a faded yellow tunic blotched with dirt stains. His pants were brown but it was difficult to tell if that was the color of the fabric or if dirt had recolored them. McGrady's face was wrinkled, his hands heavily calloused, but his eyes were soft and friendly, which matched well with his salt and pepper hair. He had been spotting banshees at the edge of the woods all morning and had come to warn Grimey.

I've seen those purple wretches in the trees. McGrady said, They'll start stealing my crops and bothering my animals soon. Think you can take a stroll in the Woodlawn and take care of them? McGrady asked. Grimey told him about how a banshee flew into his workshop earlier. The farmer wasn't surprised. Banshees were a nuisance. But he was relieved that Grimey agreed to do something. After all, Grimey was a hunter.

There are a few things every town and village must have. A farmer to grow food. A blacksmith to make tools. An inn for travelers. And hunters to protect against invading monsters. Every town has monsters living nearby that never go away. It's the hunter's job to keep them from harming people. Towns usually had several hunters. In McGrady's opinion, Grimey was the best hunter in Quarry. It also helped that they were neighbors and Grimey was very accessible to the farmer.

Banshees usually kept to the woods. They entered Quarry to snatch up crops from the farms and quickly retreated back into Woodlawn. It's something the farmers have learned to deal with. But occasionally the banshees attack frequently and in greater numbers. That's when hunters are needed. If the banshees are left alone they'll grow braver and begin attacking people. Hunters kept the number of banshees under control so they only are a nuisance and not a danger.

McGrady's request was no surprise to Grimey. The banshee numbers were low and having only one fly out of the woods was nothing to be alarmed about but McGrady's farm is small. He kept a careful watch on his crops and livestock. The slightest hint of trouble sent the farmer knocking on Grimey's door. The bearded hunter didn't mind the extra work though. McGrady had been a reliable neighbor, a good friend, and the fact that Grimey despises monsters makes the extra work a pleasure. He was more than happy to venture into the woods before the day ended.

When the sun began to fall low in the sky Grimey geared up. He strapped on a leather bandoleer he had made himself and loaded it full of small hatchets. The hatchets were Grimey's choice distance weapon and they fitted into custom loops