The Hearth's Embrace

In the heart of the frozen expanse known as Halo, where the biting winds and relentless snowstorms ruled, stood the Citadel—an imposing fortress of ice and stone. This was not the land Nim had known. She was a child of the Halo wilderness, raised by a woman who had taught her to navigate its unforgiving terrain, to track the herds that roamed the mountains, and to survive on her wits and skills alone.

Today, however, marked a significant change in her life. Nim was no stranger to the harsh beauty of Halo's wilderness, but the towering spires of the Citadel, the bustling streets filled with people of all walks of life, and the strange customs of civilization were a stark contrast to the solitude of the wilderness she had called home. She adorned her furs and rugged attire, and still felt the weight of the wilderness in her very bones.

Guided by the stories and rumors of the Halovian hunters, Nim made her way through the Citadel's labyrinthine streets to the lively guildhall for the Monster Hunters. As she pushed open the heavy wooden door, she was immediately welcomed by the crackling of a roaring hearth that dominated the room, casting a radiant glow that filled the space with warmth and light. The inn's main floor filled with tables for big gatherings and meetings, a pantry stocked with provisions, and a storeroom filled with an impressive array of armor and weapons.

As she stood in the doorway, she stopped and swallowed the lump in her throat. Her ears still echoed with the distant howl of the wind and the calls of creatures in the night. Yet, she had a purpose here—to meet a man named Deimos, the master of the Monster Hunter's Guild. It was said that he held the keys to the guild's formidable ranks and assignments.

With hesitant steps, Nim made her way through the inn's interior. Her eyes settled on a tall, imposing figure seated at the head of a long table near the hearth. His presence exuded authority, and his weathered face bore the marks of countless battles. This had to be Deimos, the guildmaster.

She approached him, her fingers nervously tracing the strap of her satchel. The firelight flickered, casting fleeting glimpses of vulnerability in her eyes.

Clearing her throat, Nim spoke softly, her words carrying the fragility of someone who had left behind the only world she knew. "Excuse me," she began, her voice trembling slightly. "I'm Nim, and I... I come from the wilds beyond the Citadel. I was raised by a hunter.."

Her gaze remained fixed on the fire as she continued, "She's gone now, and I'm alone. I may not be as experienced as the hunters of your guild, but I've honed my skills over the years," and when it came to this, her lack of confidence disappeared for a moment. She lifted her chin to look up at his dark eyes, "I can track any beast, I'm good with a spear and a bow," both of which were slung over her back. Not truly necessary to be carried within the city's walls, but.. it was a habit difficult to break.

"I've heard some of the stories of the challenges your guild faces, and I want to help. I want to be a part of this place, even though I'm an outsider."

Nim's introduction hung in the air, tinged with a sense of uncertainty and vulnerability. She had taken a leap of faith by leaving the wilderness behind and stepping into this unfamiliar world of the Citadel. Now, she awaited Deimos's response, hoping against hope that he would see potential in her despite her feelings of inadequacy.

deimos

DEIMOS

we've all got blood on our hands

something somewhere had to die

so we could stay alive

Finalizing another entry into one of the many journals, the crackling fire, and the overall quiet, provided much relief to his constantly machinating mind. A moment of peace and repose in between the rumbling platitudes of ominous forthcomings, beckonings, twists and turns, and anything else managing to riddle and rankle the landscape. Winter had already proven to be less than its promised and hushed parameters – busy and wound, leaving him to find little bits and pieces of sanctuary in the parallels.

Another stroke of the pen didn’t dash away the sounds of another entering, and his piercing gaze lifted towards the door. He hadn’t expected any other company, save for perhaps the habitual patrons popping in and out, striving to find another bounty amidst the cold, or to prop their boots closer to the fire. His brow arched briefly, breaking the usual reticent mold, as a stranger walked in.

No recognition slid across his face, and perhaps the only residual emotion was that of curiosity. The woman almost had a shy, reserved approach, as if filled with trepidation and dread, and he continued to watch with the vaguest tilt of his head, maybe figuring she was simply here to exist and nothing more. But then she directed her attention upon him, with introductions of Nim and wilds beyond the Citadel, raised on the land rather than within. And still with more to say before he could even part his jaws, and his glance went towards the aforementioned weaponry, and then eventually relinquishing everything else.

Leaning back in his chair, he scrutinized and examined, brief studies snagged from days of war and never truly parted. Eventually, he placed his charcoal down, permitting his full attention upon this Nim. “That is quite a lot.” The Sword allowed the briefest snort, and then a slight smile in the corner of his mouth. “I am Deimos. And before I accept you into anything, what monsters have you come across?”