BEAR PUNCHING maybe (Solo hunt)

Marcus sat in the back of the bullfrog alone. The light flickered. Again. He contemplated fixing it right there and then with his aura, but decided against it. He would need every drop of power for this mission. His first solo hunt. Should he have been this eager?

Something had been trying to get into the city, scratching at the walls, and it was his job to check it out. If he felt he could handle it, search and destroy. If he couldn't, fall back and get help. Easy enough for a first year, and also a good way to earn some extra cash on the side. Marcus wasn't going to lie, one part of his eagerness to accept a mission this quick into his enrolment was for want of resources.

Yet there was a part of himself that had doubts. Grimm. That existential threat that always hungered for blood and souls. Why was he so eager to go out and face them? Cold hard cash alone? No, there was more to it that that. What though?

“Touchdown in half a minute.” the pilot announced calmly. Marcus looked up. Now was no longer the time for silly questions and doubts. This was it.

The area was the portion of land just south of the docks, away from both the bustling tourist beaches and the heavy industry. The wall that kept the Grimm out on one end stood firm, a monolithic block of grey concrete. Beyond it lay a cleared out killzone for any sieges, and then dunes and tall grass, with the occasional thorny shrubs. Though he was too far inland to actually see the endless blue, the eternal crash of waves on the shore and a salty taste to the air served as a constant reminder of the sea's presence.

Marcus stepped out of the bullfrog, choosing to fall the last five meters. The soft sand came up to his ankles as he crashed into the land. Off hand, he waved the pilot goodbye as he scanned the land. There, that hill. He stomped upwards, instantly in a fight with the land itself. The sand gripped his feet, a noticeable effort to just stay mobile. He briefly chuckled to himself if this was going to be what got him killed. Sand. There’s a joke if ever he heard one. At last, he reached the hilltop. No grimm in sight. He could  go and walk along the wall to find traces of whatever creature wanted to breach it. The thought made him chuckle harder. No, there was a much easier way. He put his hands to his mouth.

“ALL RIGHT YOU BEAUTIES, COME AND HAVE A GO IF YOU THINK YOU’RE HARD ENOUGH!”

Rolls: 5, 3, 1, 1 (click for link)

Sure enough, the taunt was answered by a dark shape with a tell-tale white bone mask. Oh a Grifffon. Figures that a Grimm with the power of flight would pick places where footing was terrible, Marcus berated himself. Oh well. The beast appeared to taunt back by circling overhead a few times, out of punching and cutting range. Marcus revved Skree, and let the high pitched angry screech of the angle-grinder make his challenge clear. It dove in and Marcus tensed, as he awaited the moment to counter-attack. Just a little closer, come on.

To his surprise the beast backed off.

"Oy! Fight's over here!" Marcus yelled at it as he puzzled over this new development. It screeched back at him, probably something rude.

Grimm didn't run and only the smartest of them waited. Even the weakest Beowulves would throw themselves headlong into the fray against hunters they never stood a chance against by the hundreds. A remorseless, relentless black tide of tooth, claw and hate.

So, he reasoned, while this Griffon might be smart enough to realise that directly hurling itself at a prepared badass, there was no way it was smart enough to back off.

That meant that it would attack from another angle. Deliberately Marcus turned to face the trees where the beast fled to directly. With the bare, open killzone that led to the wall off to his left, and Skree raised in his right, only his back stood unguarded. Open. Inviting.

In the reflection of the disc, he saw a black blur approach. Not yet. He breathed in. His left hand let go of Skree's side handle, open and ready. He breathed out.

Now.

"Olé!"

The claws whisked over the top of his head as Marcus dropped to his knees, and his free hand struck out. He grabbed for one of the offending limbs, and yanked it down with his not inconsiderable might and the full weight of his armoured bulk. Combined with the Griffon's own forward momentum the intended result was a forward flip face first into the ground for the fiend. At the same time, his right arm with Skree shot up, headed for the beast’s other claw to sever it. His aura flared and granted the cutting disc an impossibly strong and sharp edge.

Hit taken 10 DMG - R1 Armour = 5 DMG

Attack 1: 20 base + 10 weapon + 10 semblance boost = 40 DMG

"Hey there!" Marcus yelled as he revved Skree and jabbed the howling angle grinder straight at the Griffon's facial region.

Attack 2: 20 base + 10 weapon + 10 Semblance boost = 40 DMG

Healing from semblance: 5 HP

Marcus HP: 120/120 | AP 160/180

Adrenalin burned in his veins. Skree howled, and for a brief moment Marcus felt the bastard offspring of a buzzsaw and a V8 engine demand blood. A demand he was all to willing to fullfill. The Griffon struggled and thrashed in his grip as if aware of his plans. With the constant movement, Marcus just could not find a good angle to attack from.

It probably wanted to just get away from the crazy hunter and his angle grinder, but Marcus liked to imagine the thing felt fear.

The tells gave him a split second warning. That was all he needed. It craned it's neck back, muscles bulged and like a bullet it lunged for his face. Marcus met the lunge with an uppercut. Skree bit into the softer flesh of the underside of the lower jaw, directly in the middle.

Attack 1: 20 base + 10 R1 wep = 30

This forced the deadly beak up and away from any delicate fleshy bits of Marcus himself.

Hit blocked(?)

He followed it up with a jank on the foot he still had in his hand, to force the buzzsaw deeper and with some luck, directly into the beast's brain tissue.

Attack 2: 20 base + 10 R1 wep = 30

"Shoryuhoweverthe___kyousayit." Marcus said, panting and shaking. Was it over?

Marcus HP: 120/120 | AP 160/180

It was definitely a last ditch effort to annihilate the fleshy one that grasped it, but this Griffon had now doubt it would plunge right through the face of this strange looking fleshy one...what with it's oddly shaped head and all.

However, it would appear that this Griffon was vastly mistaken in terms of this fleshy one's capabilities, as it counter it with a simple blow to the bill with it's odd-looking weapon. This Griffon squawked and flailed around in an effort to escape, but sadly to no avail. With a simple jerk of it's leg, the odd weapon pushed and sliced it's way right through the skull of this Griffon.

As the front part of this Griffon's beaked face landed into the next to them, the rest of it's body flailed around a few moments longer before finally excepting it's fate and falling lifeless to the ground, disappearing into the air around them as it disintegrated.

The only remaining sign of this Griffon's existence was a black feather than landed gracefully on the bill of the fleshy one's weird head, then just as briefly as it had landed it disappeared into the air as well.

[So dead, he's ded dead.]

Panting and shaking Marcus rose. Adrenalin pounded in his ears and screamed at him to act, move, fight. His head whipped from side to side as he checked for any more adversaries drawn to the cacophony of battle. The dying few flaps of the griffon's blew the smoke created by it's death into his face. He felt something tickle his aura on top of his helmet and grabbed for it. Nothing save a disintegrating feather.

The forest was silent as the grave. There was nothing save the smoke of the dying grimm within reach. After a few scant seconds, Marcus popped his helmet and let out a loud, primal yell. This was it. Victory, oh so sweet victory. Still giddy, he started to move to a place the bullfrog could come pick him up.

"This is Goldstein requesting pickup. Take me home Country Road." he said into his radio.

"To the place, I belong~" the pilot sang back at him. Marcus just let fly a fain chuckle in response. Soon soft country music and the roar of an engine announced the arrival of his ride home.

"Difficult hunt?" the pilot asked as he clambered on board. Marcus shook his head.

"Not really, grimm couldn't keep his head in the game."

((Now I get to roll a bonus dice or something?))