Gorren

The nimble Durri silently slipped toward the camp. They were experts at this kind of job, having never been caught off guard before. "Ram, you remember me saying how sharp the gravelhorn's night vision is? It's sleeping now, so come morning, we can turn its fear of light against it... Huh? Did you fall asleep?" As the Durri approached the camp, they heard Gorren mumbling to a nearby clay pot. He casually took his Feastmaker from his waist, set it next to the pot, and lay down on his bedding. Within moments, the faint sound of snoring could be heard. To be safe, they waited in the shadows for a while before cautiously moving closer to Gorren. But as one of the Durri got near, it suddenly wrinkled its nose. The strong scent of spices wafted from Gorren's pouch and hit it full force, making it sneeze. Realizing they were in trouble, the Durri quickly scattered. Thankfully, Gorren only rolled over, his breathing shallow, but he didn't wake. Catching each other's eyes, they carefully regrouped, preparing to take the Feastmaker lying next to him. But just as they were about to grab it, a dull thud sounded, and one of the Durri fell to the ground, stiff as a board. A small figure rolled out of the clay pot, softly blowing rat fur off a small spoon and placing it back on his head. Ram grinned at the wide-eyed thieves and held a finger to his lips as if to hush them.

Kren had been waiting around for a while, but his Durri kin still hadn't returned with their prize. Annoyed, he crossed his arms, tapped his foot, and finally decided to take charge. But when Kren snuck close to the camp, he found it empty. His heart skipped a beat as he noticed a shadow rising on the tent, bathed in firelight. He dropped to the ground and rolled, just barely dodging the huge Feastmaker that skimmed his head. "My friend, I don't remember inviting you to dinner," Gorren's voice rang out as the Feastmaker swung back toward Kren with deadly speed. Kren was about to argue, but the force of the blade's wind was so overwhelming that he had to use the cannon on his shoulder to block it. The impact knocked his cannon off, and Kren staggered, dodging Gorren's powerful strikes. He quickly called out, "Wait! I have something to say! Let's talk!" Hearing this, Gorren came to a stop, but his Feastmaker was still held high, ready to swing in a lethal arc toward his prey. Taking advantage of the brief lull, Kren caught his breath and grinned, leveling his grenade launcher at Gorren. But as he fired, Ram, who had been hiding God-knows-where, suddenly appeared. He threw a handful of spicy powder directly into Kren's face, causing his grenade to veer off course.

"Cough...cough! Damn it!" Kren cursed, trying to clear his eyes. But the grenade hit the cave wall, and with a crash of falling rocks, a huge explosion went off, rousing the sleeping gravelhorn from its slumber. With a deep, menacing growl, the massive creature slowly emerged from the cave, its blood-red eyes locking onto them. Gorren clicked his tongue and glanced at the flask of chili oil at his waist, a flash of regret crossing his face. "Ram, plan B!" As soon as Kren managed to clear the spice from his eyes, he saw the gravelhorn charging toward them, its hooves pounding the ground like war drums. Without hesitation, he turned and ran, diving behind a massive stone. Meanwhile, Gorren nimbly sidestepped, his Feastmaker slashing at the creature's leg at a sharp angle. The blade dug deep into its thick hide, summoning an ear-splitting screech. The gravelhorn let out a pained roar, its blood-red eyes locking onto Gorren. Its massive horn pointed straight at him, readying itself for another charge.

"Ram!" Gorren barked. The child, who had been patiently waiting, instantly knew what to do. He removed the iron spoon from his head and slammed it onto the ground, creating a sharp noise. The gravelhorn hesitated for a moment, its charge interrupted by the sudden sound. Gorren grabbed the chili oil flask from his waist and took a deep swig before directing a jet of fire at the gravelhorn. The burst of light and pungent scent aggravated the beast, sending it into a frenzy and breaking its focus. Gorren seized the fleeting opportunity, charging ahead with unexpected speed for his massive frame. The Feastmaker spun in his hands, slicing through the smoke and landing perfectly in the gravelhorn's weak spot. With a final, agonizing roar, the massive creature collapsed to the ground. The smell of blood still lingered in the air as Kren saw his chance for a sneak attack. But Ram had been keeping a close eye on him, raising the spice powder canister with a sly grin, ready to act. "Aren't you ready to scram?" Gorren asked, shaking the dust off himself. He reached into the corner, hauled out Kren's bound kin, and flung them toward him. "Stick around any longer, and I might be tempted to add some mouse to the menu." As he watched them flee in a panic, Gorren let out a hearty laugh. But then he saw Ram handing him the oil flask that had fallen during the battle. Gorren cradled it in his arms with a sigh, gently patting it. "My precious collection... another one gone." He sighed again, stretched his muscles, and turned his attention back to the massive body of the gravelhorn. "Alright, now it's time for us to deal with this big guy."

"This is no small gift. I fought a beast for hours to get this bone... Now that I've done so much work on it, I hope you enjoy the flavor."