They followed it until they got to a cave,it was small, and you could hear an echo if you spoke into it.
The Orthdra finally came into view as they approached the cave. Its body was a grotesque marvel of evolution—long, sinuous, yet muscled like a predator built for bursts of explosive power. Its scales shimmered in muted shades of dark ember green and dark blue, overlapping like jagged armor, while patches of coarse, bristly hair ran along its spine and limbs. Its head was elongated, with a slightly curved snout lined with serrated teeth, and its eyes glowed faintly amber, intelligent and calculating. Two coiled horns jutted from the back of its skull, framing a crest of bone that caught the dim light. It's tail longer than the body was thick and whip-like, as it thrashed behind the Orthdra, capable of crushing anything in its path. The Orthdra moved with the quiet, deliberate menace of a creature that knew both patience and precision.
The hunters and Faelan stopped at the mouth of the cave. The echo carried the faint sounds of dripping water and the distant, low rumble of the Orthdra settling deeper inside. Even from this distance, Faelan could feel the weight of the creature's presence—a pulse in the air, like static before a storm.
The crouched leader muttered, "Stay back. Even here, it's dangerous. One wrong move…" He didn't finish the sentence, but the warning hung in the cold, damp air.
Faelan's breath caught. The echo of their voices seemed to exaggerate the Orthdra's size, making the shadows inside the cave twist and writhe. Every instinct screamed caution, but the pull of curiosity—and the responsibility of being along this hunt—forced him to step closer. The silence, broken only by the cave's hollow resonance, felt like the calm before an inevitable strike.
The hunters crouched at the cave's mouth, faces set, weapons readied. Faelan stayed a few paces behind. The echoing cave swallowed sound and magnified it, making every drip of water or shuffle of stone feel like a thunderclap.
The leader, crouched and calm, whispered a plan. "We don't rush it. Orthdra is clever—it will test us before it attacks. Split formation, traps first, push it toward the narrowing of the tunnel. Don't get greedy."
Two hunters moved ahead quietly, setting trip wires laced with primitive but sturdy snares. Faelan watched, fascinated despite the fear. Even at a distance, their movements were fluid, practiced—like watching dancers who knew every step of danger.
A low hiss echoed from deeper in the cave, the Orthdra sensing them. Its tail lashed behind it, scraping against stone, sending a shower of pebbles clattering down. The hunters froze, eyes narrowing.
Faelan could hear its breathing now, slow and deliberate, almost mockingly patient. Then a low growl rolled through the chamber, shaking dust from the ceiling.
The first hunter triggered a snare, the wire snapping tight across the Orthdra's foreleg. The creature yowled—a deep, resonant, almost metallic sound—and lashed out with its tail, knocking one hunter back into the wall. Rocks tumbled, and the echo turned it into a cacophony.
Faelan instinctively ducked as a sharp claw gouged the ground near his feet. "Move back!" the leader barked, pulling him behind cover. The remaining hunters flanked the creature carefully, tossing small weighted nets designed to entangle claws and legs. The Orthdra roared, thrashing violently, its amber eyes glinting with fury.
The cave shook with each strike, dust raining down like a storm. Faelan's heart pounded as he saw one hunter get slammed into the wall, sliding across the stones with a grunt. Another hurled a spear, but the beast twisted, avoiding it with impossible speed.
"It's smarter than anything I've seen in years," one hunter muttered, wiping blood from his brow. "Watch the tail, the horns—they'll crush you in a second if you're sloppy."
Faelan felt adrenaline surge through him. Numbing the pain he felt from his injuries, he was ready join the fray. He grabbed a loose stone and flung it toward the Orthdra, hoping to distract it. The creature paused, eyes tracking the stone, and in that split second, the hunters advanced again, their coordinated precision forcing the Orthdra toward a narrow crevice in the cave.
But it wasn't over. The beast lunged, claws extended, narrowly missing two of the hunters as it pivoted, its tail swinging like a battering ram. Dust and debris filled the air, making breathing difficult, visibility near zero. Faelan could barely make out the glow of its eyes, the jagged scales reflecting the dim light like shards of dark glass.
The fight was chaos incarnate—a test of endurance, skill, and nerves. Every movement had to be perfect. One wrong step, one misjudged strike, and the Orthdra would capitalize. Yet, even in the madness, Faelan noticed the hunters' precision: every throw, every feint, every trap placement had a rhythm, a strategy honed over countless encounters with death.
The lead hunter raised the only gun they had and fired it.
The moment the bullet tore through the air and struck the Orthdra's eye, the cave erupted in chaos. Its screech was deafening, echoing off the walls like rolling thunder. Dust and small rocks tumbled from the ceiling as the beast pivoted, muscles coiling with explosive energy. Its tail whipped like a living battering ram, smashing into the stone floor and sending shards flying.
The lead hunter stumbled backward, barely avoiding a claw swipe that gouged deep into the wall behind him. "Fall back!" he shouted, desperation threading his voice. The other hunters scattered, flanking the Orthdra from safer angles, nets and ropes at the ready, but even they were visibly shaken. The creature's amber gaze, now singular and burning with rage, locked onto its assailant, and every muscle in its body screamed lethal intent.
Faelan crouched behind a jagged rock, heart hammering. The adrenaline surged through him like wildfire. This was no longer a controlled hunt—it was survival. The Orthdra charged, claws gouging the floor, jaws snapping just inches from the hunter who had fired. The leader barely dodged, rolling sideways as a claw slammed into the stone where he had been standing moments ago.
"Use the traps! Funnel it!" one hunter yelled, voice cracking under tension. The hunters coordinated desperately, pulling ropes and trying to snag its legs, but the Orthdra's fury made it almost untouchable. It lashed its tail in sweeping arcs, sending one hunter crashing into the cave wall with a sickening thud.
Faelan's stomach churned as he realized the sheer power in a single hit. Every instinct screamed to run, yet he stayed crouched, watching. One misstep from anyone and the Orthdra would tear through them like paper.
The beast's movements were no longer just animalistic—they were calculated, almost tactical. Every strike was measured, countering the hunters' attempts to trap it. It wasn't hunting them; it was fighting for survival, and it had adapted quickly to the threats around it.
The leader took a deep breath, glancing at Faelan. "We can't hold it like this forever… " His gun hand shook, his eyes never leaving the blazing fury in the Orthdra's remaining eye. The cave was a storm of sound, movement, and fury, and there it stood towering before the lead hunter ready to strike.
He had to act, though aiming felt impossible.
"Faelan!" he shouted. Faelan glanced at the lead hunter, then at the rifle hurled toward him. He caught it just in time as the Orthdra's jaws sank into the lead hunter's shoulder.
Faelan's heart thudded violently in his chest as he watched the gruesome scene unfold.
Faelan surged forward, for the moment, the Orthdra's focus remained locked on the lead hunter.
Time seemed to slow as Faelan took aim and fired into it's other eye causing it release the lead hunter's body.
Now it was totally blind, the other hunters pressed their advantage, slamming nets and ropes around the beast's legs and swinging weighted clubs to unbalance it. The Orthdra thrashed, roaring, the sound deafening, but Faelan's strike had made it falter, just enough for the hunters to capitalize.
The creature's tail smashed against the cave wall, sending stone fragments flying inches from his head. It was a tough fight, but under the hunters' coordinated strategy and his desperate precision, they brought the Orthdra down.
Faelan staggered back, chest heaving, eyes locked on the Orthdra's lifeless body. The cave was still, save for the ragged breathing of the hunters and the faint drip of blood onto the jagged stones.
They gathered round the lead hunter's body, one of the hunters fighting back tears,"Ronaw...?" He called out the lead hunter's name whilst shaking him. "I'm... Not... Dead... Yet." He rasped.
Another hunter clapped Faelan on the shoulder, grinning despite the tension. "Thanks for the assist kid," he said, eyes glinting. "Let's get the boss to the doctor."
Faelan gave a nod, glancing down at the Orthdra one last time. For all its fury and size, it had been beaten with strategy, teamwork, and, just barely, his own desperate courage.
"Yeah, let's get it out of here," another agreed, motioning for the group to begin the arduous task of moving the massive creature and Ronaw. Faelan followed, still trembling slightly, joining them in the effort.
Rain fell in steady sheets by the time they reached the settlement, turning the ground to slick mud and washing the dried blood from armor, skin, and scale alike. The Orthdra's massive body was dragged in piece by piece, ropes biting into flesh, hunters straining and cursing under their breath. Even dead, the creature felt stubborn—like the land itself resisted letting it go.
Villagers gathered under awnings and broken roofs, watching with a mix of awe and relief. Children peeked out from behind doorframes. This thing had haunted them, was dead.
The work began immediately.
Knives flashed. Saws rasped. Steam rose where warm flesh met cold rain. They worked with methodical efficiency, separating value from waste. Thick slabs of meat were salted and hung. Scales were stacked for armorers. Glands were sealed in jars, handled carefully—worth more than coin to the right people. The unusable parts were hauled away and burned beyond the edge of the settlement.
Faelan stood off to the side at first, rain soaking his hair, watching it all with a strange hollowness. He had helped kill it… and now it was being reduced to pieces, just another problem solved.
He went to the doctor's place to check on Ronaw. "You're here already?" Ronaw inquired casually as if nothing had happened.
"Yes, are you okay?" Faelan asked anxiously.
"Relax, the doc's already fixed me up, you of all people should know how good she is seeing as your wounds didn't reopen after all that running around," Ronaw gestured to Faelan's side.
He hadn't thought about it before: despite his injuries was still able bodied. It was a testament to the skill of the village's resident doctor.
"We're leaving tomorrow," said Ronaw. "Where will you go?"
"Back to Dorvel, I guess," Faelan replied. "It's a long way from here though but it's all I know now, where are you guys headed?"
"Somewhere with more dangerous animals, probably." Ronaw sighed as he looked out the window, the cool air blowing against him."This world is filled with a lot of dangerous stuff, be careful out there."
"I will," Faelan replied.
By nightfall, the rain had eased into a gentle drizzle, leaving the settlement wrapped in a mist that made torches flicker like hesitant fireflies. Faelan settled in his bed as sleep claimed him. He'd wake in the middle of the night shaking and drenched in sweat.
The morning sun broke through the lingering mist, casting long, golden streaks across the muddy streets of the settlement. Faelan was ready to set out when the hunters met up with him.
"We've got something for you," one of the hunters said as he was presented with a box. "Try it on," Ronaw urged Faelan.
Faelan's put it on and it looked like his fists were wrapped in dark leather, and along the backs of his knuckles, jagged shards of deep-blue scale were lashed tightly. Each one was curved, like a sliver of a predator's armor, edges worn sharp from a life of battle. When he clenched his hand, the shards aligned, glinting faintly with a dying ember‑glow, as if the heat inside the beast still lingered. They weren't knives. They weren't spikes. They were teeth forged into fists, ready to rend anything that came too close.
"It was mostly made from the Orthdra scales, it's just a little parting gift from us," Ronaw remarked.
"Thank you," Faelan said with a smile on his face.
"You're welcome," Ronaw replied.
They said their goodbyes and went their separate ways.