The Bloodred Harvester
Owner: Shantal

Age: 5 years, 7 months, 1 week

Born: November 25th, 2014

Adopted: 5 years, 7 months, 1 week ago

Adopted: November 25th, 2014


  • Level: 2
  • Strength: 10
  • Defense: 10
  • Speed: 10
  • Health: 10
  • HP: 10/10
  • Intelligence: 0
  • Books Read: 0
  • Food Eaten: 0
  • Job: Unemployed


Xcor glided along in near perfect camouflage and silence. Nothing but the glint of moonlight on his scythe and the occasional swish of his deep black cloak could give him away, and he'd bet his scythe that only the most well trained eyes and ears would ever be capable of finding him before he found them. He laughed silently and corrected his previous thought, he'd never bet his scythe. He liked it too much. His scythe was his favorite weapon and the most thrilling catches were the ones where he'd needed to use his scythe the most. He did enjoy using his sharp wit and caustic quips to confuse the criminals he brought in, but most of the petty thieves and brawlers he brought in alive were fairly dull and nearly none were bright enough to find his jokes funny. Oh but the scythe, the scythe was more fun to use than humor. As much as he loved confusing criminals with sarcastic comments, Xcor loved getting them off the streets even more. Even if he had to kill to do it. Of course his cloak didn't often bare the blood of a petty thief or drunkard with a temper, it bore the blood of murderers, traitors, and most often, rapists.

The one he searched for tonight fit nearly every category. He was a thief, a drunkard, plunderer, a pirate. The pirate had been traveling for a while and just happened pass through Xcor's hometown. Being a pirate, he'd hurt a few of the women in the village, mugged a few men, nothing out of the ordinary for having a pirate in or near a town. Then a child came up missing. Xcor's eyes glowed a deeper red for just a moment in intense anger. The ransom note had been delivered that morning. The child was still alive when the letter had arrived, and he was dead set to see to it that she stayed that way. The fool had taken the town sword smith's daughter deep into a forest and demanded every weapon in his armory in exchange for the little girl.

And he'll get every weapon in the armory, if he tries to run” thought Xcor to himself with silent but mirthless laughter.

The forest was an inky blue in the darkness of night and it seemed heavy with fog and nighttime sounds. There were croaks and hoots and crows but Xcor was listening for something different, and as the forest grew more wild, a very distinct sound came from it. Almost as if it was calling to him, the sound of fire crackling touched him and pulled him closer. It was smokeless fire, a pirate's trick that he'd yet to figure out. There was something in shadow, a shape with too many straight lines to be from the tangles of plant life surrounding. That was the shape he'd needed to find; the tent.

He knew that inside there was, no doubt, someone who was quite weak and very innocent. Someone who, until today, had seen no great deal of turmoil. He also new that inside there was, no doubt, someone who could potentially be quite strong, quite belligerent, and possibly quite intelligent. During his time as a bounty hunter Xcor had to think like a criminal in order to find and outwit his suspects. The pirate inside had gone for the Swordsmith's daughter, but why? Perhaps he'd known that this wouldn't be as risky as kidnapping a governor's daughter or a king's daughter. He'd known enough to get someone who wasn't worth a fleet of ships or an army of foot soldiers to track down. The weapons, if he should receive them, were just as useful as money, easy to track, hard to sell. But perhaps this pirate didn't intend to sell them. He could arm his whole crew and more with what he was demanding. Of course, the pirate would be thinking that. A grin slid across Xcor's face. He loved figuring out puzzling mysteries. A new wave of hot anger flashed through him. Of course, if the pirate didn't get what he'd demanded he'd keep the girl. The pirate wouldn't care either way, thought Xcor, because the weapons may be easily traced and hard to sell, but the girl, in the right market, could fetch a fair bit of gold.

Xcor felt a chill run through him, a thrill of pure blood lust. It crept up his spine and through his veins. A burning chill, fiery ice swept one thought through his entire being and through his mind. He wanted the pirate dead. Even if he saved this little girl, if the pirate got away, it would just be another girl in the future. Above anything else, even above saving the girl, he wanted to feel his blade slice through the pirate. So he very swiftly but silently threw the tent aside.

The girl hadn't been asleep yet, from the looks of it. Her eyes popped open in horror but she didn't scream. She seemed as if she'd tried to scream but couldn't. She made sounds like a young pup struggling for breath, and she threw her hands up in a feeble attempt to protect herself. She was dirty, her hands were bloody and bruised. Her fingernails were broken and torn, and there was blood caked under them. Xcor's eyes glided from the girl to the pirate. The pirate was deeply asleep, smelled like cheap liquor, and had tied the little girl to his leg. He had scratches up both his arms and blood ran down the side of his face that Xcor could see. He looked as if he'd fallen asleep, or passed out, curled into a ball, clutching his privates. Another unseen grin swept across Xcor's hood. The little girl had put up a fight whilst the pirate tried to kidnap her.

With a movement like a whisper Xcor's blade came down on the rope and it nearly burst in two. The young girl, still without a sound, sat perfectly still for just a second in shock before getting up and running wildly into the woods, in the direction of home.

"Get up" hissed a voice from deep inside Xcor's harvester cloak.

The pirate was up in an instant, as realization rained on his whiskey-dulled senses, and anger flew through him.

"That wasn't yours to take, devil" spat the pirate.

"Ssshe wassn't yoursss either," hissed Xcor

"Do you have my weapons?" The pirate sputtered with a chill, obviously taken aback by the sound of Xcor's voice.

"Only one," Xcor whispered, his words light with exultation. He was biting back his giddiness to keep up the illusion of strength and terror but truthfully, he was very happy to be where he was.

He glided forward as if to offer the pirate the weapon, but instead he made a slice up the pirates arm, cleanly splitting several messy tattoos in half. "oopssss" he snaked, jubilance leaking from him.

The pirate stifled a scream of pain and drew a dulling sword. It was the sort of sword that, had it been properly respected and maintained, would have been the envy of kings.

It would have radiated glory and rung out greatness with the clang of metal as it escaped its scabbard. Unfortunately the pirate had ruined it. Xcor would've like to take it to the Swordsmith as a gift if it hadn't been dulled and bloodstained, and rusted from years of briny sea.

"We cut off the handsss of thieves" Xcor hissed, and the sword hand fell to the ground, sword still clenched in the bloody lifeless fist.

The pirate's slow, drunken eyes flooded with pain and popped with rage. He obviously hadn't been expecting to hear from anyone yet. He'd probably assumed they'd never travel in the woods at night with a dangerous pirate on the loose. He was also clearly not expecting a fight. The pirate was right of course, the townsfolk wouldn't risk traveling through the forest at night with a criminal around. They would, however, pay a pretty penny for Xcor's services. The pirate, however was from somewhere far away and, Xcor thought, either hadn't heard of his services as a bounty hunter, or thought they were only legend.

Instead of holding in his laughter Xcor finally let it fly free. It was an eerie sound, filled with the promise of death. It was humorous, as if he'd just told a joke. "You've made a missstake."

He was so quick and efficient with his scythe that by all appearances it turned into a silver serpent slithering in the moonlight, dancing and bending with the breeze. Blood splashed occasionally onto Xcor's cloak, shining a very liquid crimson before soaking into the fibers. A solid minute passed before Xcor was satisfied. He lowered his blade and watched as a tear seep down the pirate's face.

There wasn't one single inch of the pirate that hadn't been sliced, slashed, or severed.

The pirate staggered for a second, weak from pain and blood loss, but finally, he fell to his slashed knees and whimpered in pain. Within minutes the dirty pirate seemed to go pale under the grime. The smell of death filled Xcor to the brim with delight. He used the pirates own tent and rope to make a sack and set off into the forest with the remains of the pirate dragging unceremoniously behind him on the ground.

He heard the girl shrieking and running into vines and leaves. He passed her and whispered into the darkness "Follow me" he whispered back at her. He continued to the town with a feeling of success building in him and the girl following the bag he was dragging.


Coding: x x x
Story by Chrystle
Overlay by User not found: anastasia
Profile by Shantal

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