I Want a Roast Out of This [Sama'el]

[Luke Lammergeier]

84th Day of Summer, 511 A.V. Early Morning, Sea of Grass Luke missed the companionship of hunting. Riding out with your brothers to bring back dinner. Watching the skinned beast crackle and drip with grease. As it roasted on a spic. Nothing tasted sweeter than your own kill. He had missed hunting, but this seemed more like a suicide. Keetah, a healthy strong spirited mare. Could only travel half the speed of Sama'el's strider. And Glassbeak's were faster than his horse. It wasn't a good situation. Anyone could see that, but he had to do something.. Staying inside the safety of a city. Did not suit him. Not having a gang of men around. Suited him even less, but he couldn't help that. Luke needed to explore the Sea of Grass. To hunt, raid, scout or kill. He had to do something. Before he got rusty or lost the stomach for a fight. Laying around, only got him lice and flea's. ”What kind of game do you usually get out here?” Said Luke. Eyes always moving, always searching. Trying to pick out shadows and shapes from the tall sweeping grass. ”or should I be asking. What usually hunts you out here.” He couldn't see anything in the distance but he kept his voice low. His hands fiddled and checked the string of his long bow. He had an annoying habit of examining the fletching of each arrow, but he was too anxious for that. His leather armor was also given a fresh rubbing of oil before they left that morning. Sword and shield were sharpened and checked with care. Fear always had a way to bring the practical side out of him.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

"Zibri are good hunting," he said. "As well as other prey you'd find in Sylira or elsewhere. But you do have to watch out for glassbeaks and other menaces. I haven't seen any signs of them today, though. Nothing recent enough to worry us. I did see zibri signs, though. If we can take one down, that will be plenty of meat to keep us eating for a while. Two or three and we can sell some or cure some for winter."

[Luke Lammergeier]

Summer wasn't a kind season on the Sea of Grass. Even with Fall fast approaching. The air was heavy with saturation. His wool tunic clung to his chest, sticky with sweat. Luke had been too stubborn and too foolish to buy more Drykas like attire. He was shaving on the regular and keeping his tied up. He wasn't going to start dressing like them. ”It's bloody hot.” He said in grumpier tone. His face didn't look pleasant either. Contorted in a nasty grimace. And since Sam wasn't being quiet, Luke didn't see a problem. Sam was the Drykas after all. ”If Zibri are the only hunt you got tracks on. Then Zibri it is. Whatever the hell that is. Long as it isn't some giant lizard I'm fine.” Luke tried to remember if he ever tasted Zibri meat or saw them in the Drykas markets. He couldn't recall the exact look but he remembered it wasn't anything to worry about... Then again even the grass could kill you here. ”How far until we hit this 'game trail' of yours?”

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

Sama'el laughed, feeling quite comfortable himself. Of course, more of his skin was showing than not, bronzed by Syna's kiss, and each breeze fingered through his short braids. Out here, he was comfortable. "Don't wander south to Eyktol if you think this is hot," he advised. "It'll kill you." As they progressed, he began pointing out signs of the zibri that he had silently followed. Though he was no great tracker himself, Sama'el knew the basics and he did have a secret weapon. First he pointed out a hoof print, then some grass trampled down. Finally, he silently indicated to Dohaina that he needed her to stop, and she did. "Just give me a second," he said, and then, in Pavi: "Dohaina, hold guard." That said, he took a deep breath before reining in his breath, measured and slow, as he stared at the faint web of energies surrounding them, letting them grow bolder in his sight despite the brilliance of the sun. Then he began to crawl out of his skin, out of his body, an invisible, astral version of himself following the flows of energy forward faster than even a Strider might gallop. Once he found the small herd, he rushed back to his body, which tingled like thousands of tiny needles upon every inch of his skin as sensation and connection returned. Perhaps Luke had thought he was merely concentrating hard on the trail, or perhaps he suspected more. In any case, he urged Dohaina forward and pointed out a rather fresh pile of manure. "They're about a mile or so ahead, beyond that hill."

[Luke Lammergeier]

If Eyktol was as terrible as Kain's stories then he wouldn't bother heading there. If the heat didn't kill him or his horse. Then he would be hanged for gutting the first person that looked at him the wrong way. ”Eyktol will be spared of my presence, that is for sure. I'm close to hurting someone now, in this heat. The only reason I'm hunting with you now. Is to bleed something.” He laughed and glanced at his Drykas companion. Wondering how he would take his humor. The horsemen had a funny view of the world. Seeing all life as connected and sacred. Seemed like horse shit to Luke. If everything was connected and sacred. Why did they enjoy killing so much? If the warriors weren't hoarding women and cattle. They were off hunting beasts or dying in the process. ”We could of used a man of your talents in Sylira. Tracking was difficult enough in a forest. To do it out here is a miracle.” He said as Sama'el pointed out tracks and manure along the trail. Reassuring them they were going in the right way. As they continued he started to think about those long nights in the Bronze Woods. Sitting in hedges and behind trees. With nothing but the moon to light the way. How he and his men would wait for travelers or caravans. To either butcher them while they slept or come back with a larger force. He was brought back to reality as Sam dismounted. Back to the sweaty, sticky, fly ridden land of Cyphrus. Half a world away. With the sun beating on their backs and nothing to see but grass for miles and miles. ”If you got to piss, make it fast. I hate to stay long.” When he was ignored he turned in his saddle. Looking at Sama'el as he started to use webbing. The commander that captured him at the Cyphrus boarder. Used webbing and did the same thing Sam was doing now. In his long trip with her and her men. He learned a little about the art. More about its history than he cared for. It was the practical applications that he cared for. When Sam told him about the shit and how the beasts where a couple miles off. He waited for the other half of the sentence. After he realized Sam wasn't going to say more. Luke chuckled and said. ”I don't have shit between my ears. I know what webbing is. You can't fool me because I'm from the North.” He gave Sam a wry smile. ”Why didn't you tell me you could web? That's pretty big stuff, magic. When you go hunting with a man, you expect to know that kinda thing about him.” He chuckled again. Making sure he didn't seem to serious. Even though the use of magic was a serious subject. At least in Syria it was. Magic often defined the people you gutted without question. For safety. If he was traveling with some sort of magi. He was glad it was a friend...

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said with a cheerful smile. The Drykas were tight-lipped about the Web, many denying its existence to outsiders. Since so far as he knew only those initiated in its energies could even sense them properly, nobody on the outside could truly prove it existed at all. "But the zibri shit is fresh and the tracks lead that way, so..." Dohaina picked up the pace on the trail of the beasties that made good eating and good leather. Her pace was gentle enough and he an accomplished enough horseman that he was able to string his short bow and pull an arrow from his quiver, nocking it and holding it loosely at the ready. A mile was nothing to a Strider in Cyphrus, and even Luke's horse looked like it could maintain a healthy clip across the flatlands. The time had come for the outlander to put his mizas where his mouth was.

[Luke Lammergeier]

Sama'el's denial was refreshing. When he traveled in Sylira with Kain. Most people didn't have the guts to be coy. It made him feel normal. Human almost. ”The shit coming from your mouth is just as warm!” He shouted as the Drykas quickened his pace. If Sam wanted to keep his bullshit clan magic secret. fine by him. It was Reimancy he was most worried about. Kain told frightening stories about what men could do with 'Res'. And Luke wasn't interested in experiencing it first hand. Keeta was a good horse. Young and spirited. With plenty of good years ahead of her. But she was pitifully outmatched by a Strider. And Luke was well aware. It would of been easier to take if he wasn't such a great horsemen. But even among the Drykas. Sam was talented. Luke watched from his Paintedmount. As he pulled out his bow and stringed it gracefully. He knew he couldn't match him as a Horsemen or Archer. So he didn't bother. Luke rode up alongside Sam and shouted. ”Fancy shit, Drykas. You should think about the brothels up north. A good wrist is always needed!” Grinning, he pointed towards the hill. ”Your the better marksmen. So I'll flank their right while you go left. Drive 'em towards your arrows.” A small herd of Zibri wouldn't be that hard to rile up. And with a strider, Sam wouldn't have a problem keeping pace. And Keetah could sprint when needed. The only danger was if the herd turned on him. With the plans set in motion, they crossed over the hill.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

Sam could barely hear Luke's voice over the pound of hooves in the turf and the rush of wind in his ears, but while he could outride the Syliran, he was not sure he could outshoot him. Perhaps on horseback he could, for he was as comfortable there as on his own two feet. In any case, he let Luke wheel around to flank them and then, when they were in place, he charged in, yowling a battle cry to startle the herd. Then it was a simple matter of firing on the proper beast. He quickly surveyed the herd even as they began to raise dust in a panicked flight. It was not good to poach the juveniles, nor does that might mate in the spring. That was a surefire way to deplete the populations and make for hungry times among the clans. It was said that wild game was more nourishing than a fatted calf, after all. Spotting an older buck, still quite strong, but obviously suffering from some injury, Sama'el loosed an arrow, nocking another before the first planted itself in the buck's shoulder, exacerbating his limp. Sama'el fired again after sighting along the shaft of his arrow, attempting to score him in the neck, which would kill him faster and mean for fewer holes in the hide, and less likely to degrade the value of it.

[Luke Lammergeier]

Luke raced along the side of the herd. Keeping his distance as he tried to move them along. But it was harder to control himself, than it was the stampede. His blood was hot and he wanted nothing more, than to cut one of these creatures down. It was an exhilarating experience that you couldn't get in Sylira. Hunting wasn't the same in the north. There where herds, but you couldn't travel far from your encampment. Too many large beasts roamed The Wildlands. It was too much of a liability to leave in a small party. And too much of a waste to send out a large enough group. He kept a steady eye on Sama'el. Excited or not, his job was to run the Zibri long enough for the Drykas to take one down. Sam was riding fast, bow out and sending two arrows into a beast. Near the end of the column. He couldn't see if he had taken it down. But from the quick repetition and flawless form. He could safely guess he hit his mark. Luke had little love for the Drykas and their horse petching. But Sam was one of the best hunters he had ever seen. If he was a Northerner he would of been jealous. But these clansman where raised with a bow in their hands and a saddle under their ass. Hunting prowess was expected. Reigning Keetah in, he pulled back and waited for the stampede to pass. Coughing from the dust left in their wake. Zibri where new to him. A couple where seen in the markets of Endrykas, but he hadn't seen them run. The synchronization of their strides in a large group fascinated him. They where liked minded in their urge to escape. And weaved in and out of each other naturally. He couldn't wait to eat one. "Did you kill it?" He called out as he neared Sam. The dust still clinging to his clothes.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

"Not yet," he said, teeth gritted against the dust rising from the stampede's passing, the fall of the old buck, and their horses. Slipping out of Dohaina's yvas, he quickly strapped his bow to her and pulled his hunting knife. For all that he intended to eat the beast's flesh and sell its pelt, there was a respect for the prey. He didn't want him to suffer unduly. Watching the flail of hooves like a master fencer, he carefully waited for his opportunity, then took the old buck around the neck and quickly slit his throat. There was blood on his hands, but he held tight as the beast died, murmuring a prayer to Viratas that the god might know the bloodletting was not in vain, and to Caiyha to thank her for this gift, taken in the spirit of the wild. "You should have brought another down," he said, smiling to Luke when the buck was dead. "Now they're long gone." Dohaina could chase them down, but Keetah was no match of a Cyphrus Strider on her native soil.