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The Glory of the Hunt

By Wyress Strigidae

The glory of the hunt. I've always known it, always felt it. As my arrow pierced the heart of a creature, its lifeblood slowly draining from its chest. As my dagger punctured an enemy's skull, as I stared into their eyes as the life slowly faded from them. The beautiful symphony of my prey's dying screams, screeches, pleas.

I was always one of Hircine's children. No greater satisfaction could I gain than the thrill of the hunt, the feeling of triumph after a difficult kill. And the Huntsman Prince saw this, and smiled with bloody teeth.

As I laid dying, a sword sticking into my gut, I had no fear. I knew where my soul would go.

The Hunting Grounds. The forest of eternal hunts, of endless glory. Every day I join my sisters as we track our prey. Every night we lay under the majesty of Hircine's stars, recalling tales of our past victories. The wine is rich, the meat is fresh, and never do we fall ill. Our Lord has given us a paradise.

Soon the Huntsman Prince will gather outsiders for his Great Hunt. An exciting time for all of us hunters within His realm. We shall test these newcomers, see if they are truly worthy of Hircine's boon. And should they fall, what harm then? They shall simply remain within this paradise, this home we call the Hunting Grounds.

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