The steady steel-blue eye surrounded by scars. Careful rhythmic controlled breathing. The Hunter eyed his quarry about to enter the clearing. Bow held firm in rough hands ready to move on instinct. Poised and ready to draw the string back and release, all in one practiced fluid motion. All that was left was for the deer to leave the brush so the arrow had an unobstructed trajectory to its target. The large tan-skinned man with dark-brown haggard hair and rugged beard would have his next meal ... And possibly a new vest or cloak.

A sudden noise made his and the deer's ears twitch. The prey stopped, still shrouded in a thin veil of branches, and peered off towards the rabble in the distance. He knew the direction well. It was the road not too far from here, and for some reason people were making a racket. Attention held for a moment longer, the woodland animal stood still. But a split second later, it turned and bolted deeper into the  lush forest.

"Fuck."

The Hunter relaxed his posture holding weapon to the side. Loud talking still came from that direction. He weighed his options, either he could unsuccessfully try to follow that beast who would surely hear him, or go check out the noise. And hopefully, punch somebody in the face that cost him dinner. Keeping to the shadows while moving at a decent clip this man made expert maneuvers. Avoiding crunching branches underfoot or letting the wayward branch catch his hide garb.

The puzzling sound of some kind of playful argument continued, sounding almost like teasing. Silently stepping over a stream and meandering around a few more large trees, several figures came into view. They could barely be seen through the thick layer of underbrush. Definitely some sort of dispute... Highwaymen robbing someone again probably. Upon getting just a tad closer and squatting down to observe revealed just that.

A portly man with light brown hair and a big curly beard wearing pastor vestments attempted negotiations with three robbers... Poorly.

“Come on... Please just give back the gold... It's not for me... It's to help the poor.”

“Yeah? If you think we were rich, you think we'd be out here robbing folks? Not too bright coming to this part of the forest all by yourself.”

“It's... Not even that much... Please... For the love of the gods just give it back.” The rotund man reached his hand out for it. Only to have one of the men step forward and stick his foot out, the other swiftly pushing on his shoulders causing the holy man to tumble backward.

“Look at that! You're a little top-heavy heavy aren't you fatty?” A slender man with fair skin and incredibly short dirty-blonde hair and stubble on his chin held the rust brown pouch of gold. “Let's go gentlemen, looks like we're having fancier drinks tonight.” The three turned to leave but were met with a larger man standing tall in their path.

"Boy oh boy, it's my lucky day,” the hunter exclaimed smiling.

“Who the hell are you?” the leader asked somewhat startled by the abrupt arrival of this individual.

“That's not important. But what is, is you're going to give that man his gold back.” He kept on smiling. “Oh really? Make us.”

“I'm so fuck'n glad you said so.”

“Oh thank you sir! Thank you for your help-”

“Can it tubby. I'm not doing this for you, I just want to beat up some assholes.” the newcomer spat at the unlucky man on the ground before looking back to the uneasy group. “Here are the rules. No weapons and you three get to try to take me on. When I kick all of your asses, you are going to give that man his gold back.”

“Three versus one? Are you fuck'n stupid Wildman?”

“I know right?! Doesn't even seem fair. I should probably tie one hand behind my back. Maybe hop around on one foot.” He exaggerated the motion of throwing his bow and quiver to the ground. Then flopping two fairly large cold-steel blade knives along with a machete. He started forward with purpose. “If any of you think it's a good idea to draw a weapon during this little brawl, I'll break your neck instead of just knocking you out,” he said voice raised, cracking his knuckles together. A few glances were thrown amongst the three robbers. Definite bit of unease at the situation before a few daggers were dropped to the ground and they slowly raised fists with unease.

The shorter bald grunt moved forward before increasing speed and throwing a fist wide trying to gain momentum. The Hunter took a wide stance ready to block the telegraphed assault. Arm coming up to block the first swing, the other arm coming up to block the second. The undisciplined fighter's momentum carried his body forward, right into a readied solid kick in the gut. Pushing off his target, the brawler regained a steady stance. The stout robber coughed and wheezed at the sudden wind knocked out of his body, hobbling backward.

The taller grunt wearing a deep green bandanna was the next to react. Trying to take fast jabs toward the smiling man. Ducking his head to the sides of these punches, those keen eyes saw the unbalance this opponent had. He jumped up to get more power into weak swings, leaving him with very poor footing. Narrowly dodging another swing, the hunter carefully kicked out and pushed on the only ankle still on the ground. This caused the ambitious fighter to fall. He certainly did try to catch himself before he hit the ground... Problem was that a knee had been placed waiting for his face before then. The hunter felt the skin then bone bounce off his kneecap. With a heavy thud the highway men's bell was rung, laying him out on the ground.

“You idiots!” the leader yelled. “Don't attack one at a time!” He went over to the bald man doubled over and pulled him up straight so they could both try to take on this stern smirking rebel without a cause. Both tried to rush, however, with fancy footwork, the hunter strafed to the side getting rid of that number advantage. The two assailants tried to pivot in his direction but not before he ducked low and returned the rush with a tackle. The robber sandwiched between the two was grabbed and lifted up in one motion. Even trying to slam fists down onto the man's back didn't save the deadweight from being thrown into the leader. With a grunt, the hunter launched the man against his ally, then they too let out cries of exertion. The two collided and fell backward onto the ground, crunching gravel underneath.

“Get off of me!” frustration apparent at his comrades' uselessness. The leader pushed the other man off of him and rolled away as the brawler loomed in. Even before the grunt could stagger to his feet, a fist took a handful of his shirt and lifted him up. Two swift punches to the face like the fighter's knuckles were rearranging putty. Drool running down his defeated face, the grunt's eyes started to swell shut.

“Stay down,” the hunter laughed, “get back up and there's plenty more beat down waiting for you.” One more quick punch to the face for good measure, the musclebound man tossed this inexperienced fighter to the side. The nervous blonde robber got to his other associate and once both stood up, they prepared to fight again. With uncanny speed, both men had an uppercut served faster than they could even think to block. Two loud thwaps echoed against the peaceful treeline. This laid out the second grunt and the leader wobbled back tasting blood in his mouth.

How easily they were getting their butts kicked pissed the leader off... How much the hunter enjoyed dishing out the whoop-ass made him furious. Roaring in anger the leader once again charged this unsung hero. Easily wrapping both attempted strikes in his own arms, the hunter held this man in a grip for just a moment. Then planted a headbutt to a shocked face and broke his nose out of place.

“I'm so fucking glad you robbed this charitable fella. Been a minute since I've gotten to teach some assholes a lesson.” Slamming his forehead into that broken face once again, feeling the nose misshapen farther. Letting go, the dazed highwayman dropped to his rear. Rage boiling over at the taunts and inevitable defeat, the desperate man sprang up and pulled a dagger hidden in his vest. The knife he drew was vibrant seafoam green and transparent. Certainly, this weapon had been constructed or carved from glass and obviously had been magically enchanted to prevent it from breaking. The blade itself, serrated and jagged, chipped as if crudely fashioned like a stone age implement. The handle, however, expertly crafted and procured. Sleek and comfortable grip, the two halves seemed quite mismatched.

The robber's movements erratic and unpredictable. Frustration and anger poured into his furious slashes at the Hunter. Dodging the swipes, but barely, the noble fighter shouted.

“You cheating bastard! Now you're going to get-” amongst the reckless onslaught the glass knife made an unexpected slice between blocking arms and a poised stance. The jagged surface passed through neck muscle like a paddle through water, also nicking the spine. The shock shut out everything else for the hunter. He knew what just transpired but couldn't process it. How could this common low-life land even a single hit on him? There was no pain... only an odd sensation of connection loss and a chill where it didn't belong. Then, all at once, a flowing warmth being overrun with a rising heat. Everyone froze in time seeing the shocked expression of a man not long for this world... Because the artery that had been severed started gushing the crimson life-sustaining fluid. Staggering forward with raw rage still captured in his eyes, the hunter made feeble attempts at grabbing towards his foe. Terrible gurgling sounds emanating from two places as the large man started to crumple.

“No!” the holy man cried out. The robbers were taking steps back, while the leader looked confused at his successful strike. He stared at the dying man, then at the blood-soaked knife in his grip. He tucked it away while still backing up from the struggling man.

“Marrow! Let's get the fuck out of here!” one of the grunts finally cried out. A few more steps back the robbers turned to run. Collecting their dropped weapons haphazardly and their secured coin purse, they fled. Burning pain being flooded by numbness was all that remained when vision failed. With a thud, the would-be hero toppled to the ground, eyes glazed and held open while a few more aftershocks of muscle spasms came to a rest. Ignoring the retreat of the robbers the priest fell to his knees next to the body.

“No... no no no... no...” he repeated, voice growing weaker and tears streaming down his face. “Why did you... you idiot... Why did you? Come on... come on...” He put shaky hands on the torso of the fallen man, small glow beginning to surround his fingertips and palm. “Please... please... come on... come on.” The light faded and nothing changed. “No! come on, please! Let me be able to... I don't... I can't... Please!” he cried out hands burning brighter with a pale yellow glow. The light subsided... But the man remained still. The priest then scooped under the fallen man's head with an unsteady grip. He clenched his teeth trying to hold back sobs that couldn't be contained. Inspecting this pale still face, fatal wound still leaking onto the dirt.

“It's not right! It's not fair! He was only trying to help... In his own stupid way!” He threw his face up towards the sky, “Come on! He deserves something... Anything! This shouldn't be the end for him... He was just trying to help!” The screams echoed through the forest with more emotion than the holy man ever knew he possessed. “Please! Let me... Show me! What am I doing if I can't help?! Show me!” he shrieked spitting the mess that was running into his mouth and beard away before collapsing onto the dead man. He took a deep inhale and mustard every ounce of strength he could, to try one more time. The glow once again returned surrounding fingertips and hands... Suddenly traveling up his arms and then the rest of his body. His whole essence becoming a beacon as the light burned stronger and stronger.

Suddenly there was a flash and warmth like the holy man never experienced in his life... Momentarily blinding him as he recoiled from whatever power he just channeled. Blinking the spots away his vision returned... Just as ears caught a deafening gasp for air. A blood-soaked hand reached up and clutched the priest's shirt collar while two incredibly perplexed faces blinked and breathed heavily at the startling moment.

“What... the... fuck just happened?” The other man simply couldn't respond for a long while floundering different syllable sounds. The wound had been sealed, and many of the hunter's scars had softened as if his body had experienced a subtle regeneration.

Finally, the shorter man spoke, “I... I... don't know... You just died and... I... I don't know what I did.” Those keen eyes went wide at the sound of his own demise. While he couldn't quite explain it, somehow he knew those impossible words to be true. He remembered the fight. The slash, the sting, that darkness clawing at his vision until it took over. But suddenly he was awake again looking at this confused cleric.

“I don't know what I just did... I've heard of miracles like this before but... I thought it was impossible for me to do something like this.” Shell-shocked, the Hunter relaxed his grip and flopped back on the ground, staring at the sky... Unable to process the gravity of those words, or why everything seemed so much more crisp and vibrant right now.

“You brought me back to life? I died? I fucking died?” the normally strong voice questioned weakly. He sat up and looked around at the lonely road with just the two of them. Eyes then traveled back to his savior. “Huh. Well that's certainly a new one for me. Damnnit, I'm sorry those assholes got away with your gold.”

“Who cares about some silly metal? You shouldn't have risked your life for me. What in the realms possessed you to be so reckless friend?”

“Like I said, they cost me dinner. And I was really looking forward to rolling some heads. Just didn't think it would be mine. I was about to say don't call me friend but... Maybe that's a bit too harsh because you just saved my life... I think. Got a name?”

“Ahh... Yeah... Grom... Grom Brightburn.”

“Caldera. Jax Caldera. And I can't tell if I'm lucky or unlucky I bumped into you Grom.”

“Yeah... The feelings mutual.” Grom helped Jax stand up and the hunter stretched feeling an odd mix of tightness and looseness in his bones. The two shared another awkward moment before Jax looked down the road with an eye of unfinished business.

“Well Grom, thank you for saving my life. I can honestly say nobody else has gotten that compliment from me. And I guess also thank you, for giving me a new rule.”

“A new rule? What's that?”

“I kill anybody that kills me.”