The already gaunt and unusual man had stood calmly before the enraged roaring of his reptilian prey, and had even seemed unperturbed by the angry tittering of the naked nymphs that bounced and jiggled like so much curvaceous jailbait beneath the creature's azure scales.  Even the one-eyed man and his impish consort had only been enough to momentarily break his concentration.  But now he was interrupted by three more very unusual individuals, two of which seemed intent to kill him and all the other would-be hunters, and the other who had the smarts to focus on the real thread--the dragon.<br/><br/>And suddenly the jovial--if severe seeming--man looked positively<em>livid</em>with rage.<br/><br/><strong>"Now see here, you uncouth ruffians!"</strong>he bellowed above the rumble of thunder and rain until his voice crackled through the atmosphere like a bolt of lightning.<strong>"As you are all <em>clearly</em> nothing more than ill-mannered, slack-jawed barbarians who care nothing for proper conduct regarding The Hunt, I will have to assume that you are offering me an invitation.  An invitation that reads quite simply:  'I wish to be skinned alive by <em>your</em> hands.'  I will be more than happy to oblige you all."</strong><br/><br/>Rushing to what may have been the defense of Rufio and Sasha, Valentine would suddenly find himself the target of a cruel and primitive looking weapon that seemed intent on literally nailing him to the ground like a butterfly to a block of wood.  The attack came from the front--no wait--it came from the left.  The right?  From behind?  Perhaps it was the poor visibility brought on by the dragon's magic, but the Huntsman's assault did not seem to originate from any single direction.  It seemed to come from all sides all at once, flowing from point to point as if searching for just the right angle, then plunging forward with lethal intent.