Bole's Chronicles

Early Life
Bole used to live in a village far from the walls of any of the major kingdoms. He used to have a peaceful life, not a care in the world and being as free as a child could be. As fate would have it though, it would be ripped from his hands. One boarbatusk was all it took to start off a chain reaction. First was the boarbatusk's cries, calling out on more of his brethren. The numbers increased, sending panic to the town. People started to flee, a battle had begun. Cries of help, panic and anger attracted even more Grimm. Eventually the town was left in ruins. Bole was placed in a packaging box by his parents, along with his two siblings, deep inside the basement of his house. They all knew too well what Grimm were.

For hours the children stayed quiet, instinctual fear was planted in them as they could only imagine what was happening outside. Their parents were town guards. What could possibly happen them? Then silence... The fighting had stopped but none of them dared to move. The fear of Grimm tearing open the box to eat them kept them petrified, so they continued stayed silent for what seemed like forever. Before footsteps could be heard, loud and resonating around them, harshly breaking the silence. The siblings huddled together, shivering in terror as they feared for the worst.

It was a man who lifted the box, wearing strange attire. Well at least to the kids; the man looked like he just got out of bath, after all. Adorned in a worn saffron robe, the man was bare footed and a strange looking weapon hung over his shoulders. Immediately the man softened his gaze as a warm smile contorted his face. He set the box down beside the kids, before leaning down and offered trail mix and water to the children. Hesitant at first the children didn't accept his offer, still clutching to each other as if their lives depended on it. Slowly, one of Bole's siblings caved in and accepted the offer. The other two watched the child to see his reaction. He turned back to the others, nodding vigorously to them to say that it was safe.

Later on the older man and Bole and his siblings stepped out of the house. Bole widened his eyes in surprise at the scene in front of him. Huge claw marks and holes partially covered by debris lined the walls of what used to be the houses of his neighbors and family.

That's not what completely astonished him though.

Mounds of dirt were placed neatly in a row in front of all the houses, and all of them had some sort of flower placed in front of them. Bole found himself about to look up to the man and ask him questions, but his gaze stopped at the man's weapon. At the flat, spade shaped blade of the weapon were flecks of dirt. Immediately Bole knew what the man did, and didn't bother to question. Bole tried to take in the scene once more, before one of his siblings tugged at his shirt.

Bole turned to his sibling, seeing him point to their front yard of their home as the boy's eyes teared up. Bole followed to where his brother pointed, feeling an immediate pang of sorrow weigh his chest down as he started keeling over and crying as well.

Two mounds of dirt found themselves lying underneath the tree of their front yard.

The three of them cried and cried. The older man frowned in sympathy, letting the children spill out all their emotions. The Grimm wouldn't come, for now at least.

Hours later the group had set out of the ruined town. The three children were in a wagon, being pulled by a donkey. The man they met was walking beside them, guarding the donkey, the wagon and the children from any possible danger. After what had transpired in the ruined village, the children were in a dull mood, their heads hung low and looked between their feet. Their grievances were cut short when they heard the howling of what sounded like wolves.

The man furrowed his gaze and stopped the donkey. Gripping his weapon, the man's head scanned the area. Quickly he ushered the children to hide in the wagon, covering them in a tarp of leather. He heard bushes rustling from different directions. Bending his knees he tumbled out of the way just as beowolves jumped out, slashing at where the man used to be. They let out growls of frustration and turned to face the man behind them, who now was in a fighting stance that splayed most of his limbs outwards.

Bole peeked out from underneath the tarp, his view limited to what was in front of him. More beowolves jumped out of the bushes in an effort to slay the man. Though they were rendered futile as the man constantly interrupted their attack, all the while slashing away at his opponents with both ends of his weapon and striking them with his limbs simultaneously. Bole watched in awe as the man jumped up and seemingly hit in five different directions at once, knocking down five beowolves as they dissipated into nothing. Needless to say Bole was astonished at what the man could do, fending off an entire beowolf pack by himself.

The man swiftly ended the battle, as the last few beowolves faded into nothingness. The man slowly breathed out before hanging the weapon over his shoulders again. He made his way to the wagon, uncovering the children underneath the tarp. He let out a sigh of relief as the kids were unharmed. He ushered the donkey once more to continue on their trek.

Days later the group had found themselves at the gates of Vaccuo. They were met with another man in saffron robes, albeit more plump in terms of body figure. The plump man let out a laugh and hugged the man before him. He then looked to the cart and saw the children. He let out a laugh one more before showing a genuine heartwarming gaze. "You brought children back this time, Beige," the plump man said as he turned to the other man, "are they without family?"

Beige nodded solemnly, "I buried them."

The plump mad let out a pitying gaze. "So what are we to do? Raise them as our own?" The man joked.

"Yes."

"…"

"You do realize it would be just me raising them, with you being gone all the time, don't you?" The plump man let out a 'hmph' in frustration.

Beige let out a sly grin, snickering as he watched the plump man's frustration. He was about to turn to leave, before something tugged at his robes. Beige turned to see it was Bole, kneeling over with outstretched arms and clenched fists bundled in his robes' fabric.

"T-Ta... Take me with you," Bole tried the hardest to form words with his mouth, feeling a large lump rise in his throat.

Beige raised an eyebrow at Bole, "Why?"

"Teach me how to fight!" Bole let out an unintentional scream, causing his siblings to flinch. "I could have been there with my parents if I knew how to fight! I could have protected them!" Tears began streaming from the boy's face once more.

Beige let out a glance of pity, not because he understood what Bole wanted, but rather because of the futility of his wish. In truth his parents would die even if he was there to fight with them. "At this age at least," Beige thought out loud.

Bole looked up with a confused expression on his face. "Hm?"

Beige looked down with a stern gaze. "You will be accompanying me six days of the week, and when I am out on missions that I deem fit to bring you along," Beige said, "on other days I expect you to train what I will be teaching you, a few hours each day. The rest of the time will be spent with your siblings. Understood?"

It was a lot to take in, and Bole didn't understand parts of it, but he knew enough it was what he wanted. Bole nodded vigorously, and so he sealed his fate.

He was now on his path to becoming a hunter.

A/N (Author's Note)
This will be where I'll be posting Bole's backstory and such. I can't summarize his life up to his current age well enough. Besides, I feel like this would be easier.