Panting hard Roland leans against the wall of a house to catch his breath. The misty night air feels cool to his lungs and he lets the chill sooth his burning throat. His fellow hunters curse loudly, sounding a little funny when they curb their words into less blasphemous one. He suppresses a chuckle, nearly pitching over on to the ground when one of the larger hunters comes over and smacks him on the back good naturedly. “Here now boy, no passing out on us!” he booms out while the other hunters laugh at the sight of Roland staggering in a desperate attempt to stay on his feet. He glares at them slightly when he re-gains his balance, shifting the shoulder strap holding his miniature crossbow at his hip.

“Here, kid, that cowardly bilge rat has take off. There's no way to hunt in this mist, but maybe you can track him with that thing you do. Go have at it and report back if you find something, hear?” Roland rolls his eyes and waves at the old hunter that he understood before moving off to the edge of the battlefield. The other hunters would fall back to the seminary in town while he searched, his powers working best when no one else was out and about. Roland knows that they have respect for his trade, but once in a while he wishes that they showed it more.

“I mean, It's not like I'm not a tool, because we all are. Tools of the church at least, but as tools themselves, why does it always feel like they think they are better than me? Sure I'm a kid, but. . .”His voice trails off. “That thing” Roland does is channeling energies. Servants of God give off positive energy. Normal people give off neutral energy. And evil humans and things of darkness give off negative energy. Holding his hand up Roland watches at the dial of his specialized compass swings slowly back and forth, pointing in a direction out of town. Normally, the dial swings in slow circles, but when he focuses, he can track the kind of energy he's looking for.

Moving slowly he's careful to step over the scars left in the ground from the battle. It had been a tough one, the beast they were fighting was very powerful. The ground, statues, and the surrounding buildings all bare marks from the creature's claws. The ground is littered with arrows and knives used to bring the beast to the ground. After it fell, the battle got messy, and as the fog rolled in, they lost track of it. As the youngest, it had been Roland's job to stay along the outskirts of the fight and strike at a distance. It meant a lot of running back and forth, trying to find a shot.

Slowly, a large shadow of a building comes into view out of the mist. Roland slows even more and as he gets closer he watches the dial stop swinging all together. There's no doubt that the beast is inside. Roland hesitates for several minutes before heading through the front door. “it was pretty beat up. I bet I could take him down all by myself at this point.” He reasons. Just to be safe he says a quick prayer that erects a barrier around him that would repel lesser evils. The old building turns out to be an abandoned church and as Roland makes his way further in he feels a bits sad at it's derelict condition. After a few minutes of wandering he finds his way to the door leading to the basement.

He takes a deep steadying breath before pushing the door open and descending. He reaches up to hold his cross, the cool metal feeling comforting in his hot fingers. His blood pounds in his ears with each step. When he reaches the main chamber at the bottom of the stares, he looks about the room for any sign of the beast. His eyes lock on to a pool of blood in the middle of the chamber. His breath hitches as his eyes follow the blood trailing out of the chamber through a doorway at the far end. Readying his crossbow with one hand, he clutches his cross with the other and strengthens his barrier. Moving carefully and quietly he makes his way to the doorway. After one last steadying breath, he whips around the doorway and draws a bead on the first thing that moves, his finger ready to pull the trigger in an instant's notice.