Sixteen-year old boy Rage Ard is preparing to join his village's Trials this year. He has been waiting all his life for the opportunity to do so. But during the Trials, Rage and the other contestants are attacked by a mighty Elder Dragon. Stranded i...
Rage rolled to the left just as a ball of fire shot from the Rathalos' jaws. He stood up and pulled out his massive great sword, grinning.
"Is that all you got, you overgrown lizard?!" He yelled.
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The Rathalos snarled at him and then took to the sky. The large Flying Wyvern flapped it's massive wings and displayed why it was named the King of the Skies by pulling many maneuvers other wyverns would find impossible. As it circled overhead, Rage held out his sword, ready to attack. The Rathalos dived at him and Rage rolled out of the way. The Rathalos turned around for another pass and this time Rage was ready. As the beast soared towards him, Rage spread his legs apart and braced himself. The Rathalos was within inches of Rage's sword when he swung with all his might. The wyvern shrieked in pain as the massive sword dug into its side. Blood gushed from the wound and it fell to the ground. It let out one final roar and then slumped to the ground, dead. Rage smiled and wiped the blood from his face. He stood tall in front of the dead beast and let out a triumphant yell. He had done it. He had killed a Rathalos, the King of the Skies! Now his father had to let him become a hunter!
"Rage! Why are you standing on the Rathalos armor set I just made!? Put down the broom, and for the last time, stop daydreaming and get back to work!" scolded a very familiar voice, one Rage had heard too often.
"Yes dad." Rage replied, sighing.
He picked up the armor set and put it back on the armor stand. He sighed again and went back to sweeping. Rage was a smithy's apprentice and was learning from his father how to be, well, a blacksmith. Mostly, his father would try to teach him something and Rage would just end up daydreaming. Then his father would get mad at him and tell him to go sweep the floor or polish the armors on display or something of that likeness. Rage didn't really want to be a blacksmith, he wanted to be a hunter like his mother. The few stories Rage's father had told him were about how heroic and brave his mother was. How she would face even the biggest monster with a grin. Sadly, his mother had died 10 years ago, while fighting an Elder Dragon. Rage's father had never forgiven himself for not protecting his wife better, and as a result he made sure Rage never, ever, became a hunter. Rage, however, had other plans.
His birthday was in a week and he planned to enter into the Trials. The year you turned 16 you could go to the nearest Guild Hub and enter into the Trials. The Trials were a series of tests such as endurance, strength, speed, classification and identification, and combat. Every year hundreds of kids from Rage's home village, Domum, would enter into the Trials, and every year 10 hunters were chosen for the academy. Rage had waited all his life to enter into the Trails and he was excited. It wasn't going to be easy because Rage knew his father would do everything in his power to stop him from doing so, but Rage had a plan. All he had to do was wait.
"Hunters Guild, here I come" He said smiling.
"Rage!" His father yelled, bringing him back to reality "Bring the Astalos armor set up front! Jazaxy is here to pick it up."
