The First Huntsman

Daybreak

"For tonight, Y/N joins the hunt."

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Somewhere deep in the dark forests of Mistral, loud voices cheered in joy and merry.

"Cheers!" 

Ruffians, clad in red armor, ragged and bloodied from their latest raid had rewarded them lots of resources and most of all, women.

"Hahaha, we did a good catch today, boys!" 

"We got some good women and little girls, too," one lecherously giggled and leered at the women and children huddled up in cages, looking at them in fear and anger.

One bandit, clad in red robes and armor made of animal fur lifted a heavy axe over his shoulder as he downed one tankard of beer after another. He sighed in sheer happiness as the intoxication slowly flushed on his face, his beard and mustache stained and wet with droplets of beer.

"Ahh, that's the stuff." He shivered as a cold breeze passed by him despite being near the bonfire. He groaned when a tightening feeling twisted up in his groin.

"Oh boy, nature calls," he stood up and began to walk away.

"Hey cap, where ya goin? You gonna jack one off?" One of the lackeys shouted out to him in his drunken cheer. The others laughed around him.

"At least I got a big one to jack off, Don!" He smugly shouted back, prompting even more of his lackeys to bellow in loud laughter.

"Bet it's the size of a toothpick!" Even more laughter followed and the bandit captain could only shake his head good-naturedly. Lovely asshats, the lot of them.

He made his way out of the camp and went to the nearest tree he could find. He unzipped his pants and let nature flow.

"Oooh, yeah..." He sighed in relief. He had a feeling those beers they had recently stolen from the raid were to blame for his constant pissing. What the hell did they put in those beers?

After letting nature flow, he zipped up his pants. And from the corner of his eye, a boot was visible from one of the bushes. Probably a drunken idiot who had too much tonight.

'Ah, great. Another one slackin' off,' he thought. He quickly approached the unconscious body.

"Oy! Get up, you damn drunk! You're supposed to be -" He was cut off when the familiar stench of iron invaded his nostrils. 

Blood. 

"Oy, you alright!?" He quickened his steps and reached the boot stuck beneath the bushes. His eyes widened in shock after shuffling through the bushes, the bile and beer rising in his throat.