I clawed at the stone ledge, breaking my fingernails and drawing blood. An animal instinct for survival consumed me, and I desperately groped for a handhold to hoist myself up with and elude the pursuing beast. Elated, I found the crevice for which I had been searching, and crammed my fingers into it. With a deep breath, I ignored the pain and hauled myself up, swinging my legs astride the wall's crest.

No sooner had I done so, than the leviathan was forced to abruptly halt its pursuit at the impasse, all three of its heads snarling to reveal menacing and terrifying teeth. Horror engrossed me. I had narrowly avoided death many times in my stuggle through the labyrinth, and I wasn't sure when my luck would run out.

However, I must continue; not only to preserve my life, but if I did survive, I would be accepted as a hunter, the greatest honor in the Masadere culture. In the various Masadere tribes, one constant was the upbringing of the hunters. Most comparable to soldiers of ancient Greece and Rome, the healthiest Masadere children were selected before the age of five, and trained in the ways of the hunter. The children who were not chosen, would enter less honorable, but undeniably necessary trades: weavers, flint knappers, cooks, water gatherers etc.. Around age sixteen, the hunters-to-be who had successfully endured training would be chosen to brave the labyrinth. Of those few (10-15) only a couple survived to become the providers for the village.

On Quardaw, homeland of the Masadere, there were little fruit bearing plants, and most of their diet consisted of the various animal inhabitants. Of these animals, most were extremely dangerous. Those that weren't, invariably, held toxins in the meat which prevented them from being eaten. Therefore, the hunters, who also guarded the village, had to be proficient. The safety of the village was put before any individual; this was the reason for being wittingly responsible for the deaths of Masadere sons during training. This was the Masadere Way. Survival alone, in such an environment, was reason enough to uphold these traditions.

With my renewed sense of purpose, I hopped off the ledge opposite the side of the creature, and prepared myself for what may be lying in wait.

The dread that pervaded my being upon sight of the new fiend dissolved my resolve, and left me powerless. The grass was, by no means, greener on the other side. Desperately, I wished I could be back on the other side, and face the canine-like creature instead. In relativity to what I gazed at now, the three-headed monster looked like a harmless puppy.

The large, black eyes of the xanthero locked onto mine, and repulsed me. Stories of the beast comprised much of the Masadere lore. Thought to be extinct, even in myth, I knew this must be one of the few specimens remaining. There was little doubt in my mind the beast had been lured here and remained prisoner behind the balithstone wall encircling the maze.

The balithstone would cause a deadly reaction with the creature's skin. The wall had been in place for many generations, and i had assumed it was from the older days; used to keep xantheri out. Now it was keeping the beast in. The elders must have torn a portion of the wall down, and reconstructed it while the beast fed on whatever had been used to lure it; likely gerew blood.

Obviously none of the other hunters had slain the beast. They must have waited until it was distracted. How stupid of me! In my hurry, I had forgotten to utilize my higher awareness training. Now it was too late. I was targeted. Surely, the exit to the maze lie just behind it; the final test. I no longer wondered why so few of those chosen as hunters ever reached fruition.

The mammoth size of the colossus was covered in an intricate and grandiose arrangement of scales. Impenetrable, I knew, to the jagged tip of my spear. Its lengthy, dragon-like neck attached to a horned head plated in armor. Poisoned spikes crested the length of the back and tail.

I was unsure how reliable the fairy tales regarding the creature were, but I knew I must make an attempt to dispatch it before it made a move. From what I had heard, its only weakness was a break in the armor on the underside of the beast, just anterior to one of its three hearts.

Brandishing my spear, I launched myself towards the presumed weakness. Almost immediately, my assailing was arrested by curved and razor teeth embedding themselves deep into my abdomen. Failure was the only thought in my head as I stared down the cavernous throat of the monstrosity. I felt the venom transfuse throughout my body, and my mind went blank as my heart slowed.