All That From A Snowball (A Herobrine Adoption Story)

Demon Hunters

          It wasn't long before Ephrim found himself having to dismount and lead his horse on, as the houses and buildings around him became crowded, several even containing low signs and porches jutting into the street, threatening to smack his head. He kept his head low, a scowl on his face as he maneuvered through the streets, now practically alleyways.

          Turning down an even smaller, dark street, he halted in his tracks, a slow smile spreading.

          He'd found it...

          A small courtyard of sorts laid spread before him, surrounded by dingy taverns and shops...populated by near-silent people, all skulking against buildings or slinking out of alleyways. Most wore hoods or ragged scarves covering their faces.

          Keeping his head low, Ephrim strode towards the nearest tavern...the Stuck Boar or something...from which yelling and crashing ensued. After tying the reins to a post near other horses, he made his way into...chaos.

          Chairs were overturned, tables upside-down, plates of food flying every-which-way, accompanied by mugs of beer...the exact image of a Notch-forsaken tavern. Weaving his way through the carnage, ducking the occasional apple, and stepping over the occasional groaning man on the floor, he made his way with intent towards the mass of people crowded at the far back of the room...surrounding two people grappling with each other, fists flying.

          Elbowing his way to the front, Ephrim sighed in exasperation. One of the males caught up in the fight, the larger one, was the hunter he sought...

          Sticking his hands in the folds of his cloak, Ephrim scowled, leaning against the wall as the larger fighter shoved his opponent into the wall. Adarion...right...that was his name. A renowned hunter, leader of the Blood Wolves, the most dangerous pack of hunters in the East. It was said he'd once tracked a ghost assassin into the very bowels of the earth, through some of the most twisted caverns and smallest passageways...and had made it out alive, with his quarry in tow.

          If anyone could get the demon...and consequently, the reward money...it would be him.

          Now if only he would hurry up with this silly fight and break away from the crowd...

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          Not thirty minutes later, Adarion threw his opponent into a table, and thus won whatever 'battle' he'd gotten himself into. After shaking off some of the townspeople, he tramped over to the bar Ephrim sat calmly at, sipping a mug of ale. Slapping a gloved, meaty fist on the bar, he demanded a draught of ale as well, on the loser's bill.

          Once he was settled on the...rather small barstool, a mug in his hand, Ephrim made his move, quickly standing and settling on the second stool beside the large man, calmly stating, "The next two drinks for him will be on me."

          That earned him a suspicious glance from Adarion, in the form of one dark eyebrow lifted as his silvery eyes narrowed. Ephrim regarded him with a nod, one hand inside of his cloak, fiddling with the reward poster.

          The two men sat beside each other without speaking a single word for several minutes, each quietly sizing the other up. Glancing at the hunter every once in a while, Ephrim committed his recognizable form to memory, trying to work out what type of man this Adarion was...what sorts of bargains might appeal to him. So far, what he saw pleased him. A rugged-looking leader, with the cunning glint of a wolf's instinct in his silvery eyes, though his dark beard made him seem more like a bear. A wolfskin cloak, worn and faded, hung about his shoulders, and his clothing was a mass of dark tunics, belts, and animal fur. By the door hung his signature crossbows and twin axes, all carved meticulously with wolfs' heads.

          Those same weapons had taken many foes down...

         When Adarion's second drink had been poured, Ephrim turned a bit in his chair, noting that the man before him seemed much more relaxed, "Adarion...am I correct?"

          The man grunted, shooting him a suspicious glance, "Aye...what's it t' you."

          "I'm...looking for someone..."

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          Within the hour, over Adarion's last ale, Ephrim had managed to convince the man to round up all his Wolves and hunt, for three-fourths the profit. Once they'd haggled and argued and settled on the price, Ephrim revealed he knew where the trail started...and how they could double, even triple the profit by keeping the demon alive and bringing him to different territories, each with their own reward. This pleased the hunter greatly, and no more arguments were made.

          And, not three hours later, Ephrim found himself mounted on his horse beside Adarion, on his own grey-flecked stallion. Surrounding them were near fifty men and women, dressed to kill in furs and worn, even bloodstained tunics. Weapons tucked in sheaths riddled their tough, lean bodies, and hard, gleaming eyes set in scarred faces stared up at their leader with loyal intensity.

          Adarion grinned down at his followers, then revealed the wanted poster Ephrim had given him with a flourish, holding it over his head.

          "There's said t' be a demon roamin' this world unpunished...a demon Notch himself has rejected and scorned! A hefty price comes with his capture..."

          Leering grins began to spread over the faces in the crowd of toughened hunters, and hands reached for sheathed weapons in anticipation.

          "Are ye with me, my Blood Wolves?? Are ye willin' to hunt such magnificent prey??"

          A roar rose up from fifty throats, as deadly, gleaming weapons and torches flashed into the air.

          "AYE ADARION!!"

          And with that, the hunters swarmed over to the tavern's stables, drawing horses from within, mounting them with speed and efficiency.

        "Then follow yer Alpha to riches and rewards!!!"

          Adarion turned his steed on its heels, urging it to gallop out of the square, towards the gates of the city, followed closely by Ephrim and the rest of his Blood Wolves. The group of horses made a noise like thunder as their hooves struck the cobbles, some even kicking up sparks with their heavy, metal shoes.

          A grin spread over Ephrim's face at the sound. He'd never done something so spontaneous and exciting before...perhaps he should do it more often.

            The thunder of their horses was soon matched with the thunder of an open sky as they swept through the gates of the city, out into the vast world beyond....

          ...heading for a fate unknown.

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reEEee aaghh I had another pic I wanted to share...but I lost my sketchbooook aaaghhh

aNyhow yes...fluff next chapter uwu

(*insert desperate whiny voice*) vOte if yOu eNJoyEd