Necessity's Home

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

44/45 Winter, 511 A.V. The temperature kept falling and would not stop. Those who had followed Sama'el were now a miserable, dispirited group. It was well past time they should have made camp, but the cold snap was snapping and wanted to snap their bones. A storm was coming, clouds blotting out moon and stars. They saw by witchlight; he had called Fire and one small sphere of it burned ahead of them, steadily fed with his soulfire. He had decided they should travel toward some rocky foothills, and thankfully nobody had gainsaid his leadership. The Web amounted to the energies moving in and among them as Drykas, the larger ley-line only following them to each camp where he felt he could successfully drop an Origin. And now the sun had set, his gift from Syna was effectively worthless. And now as he stretched himself thin providing them with light, they had to rely on Ronan's less reliable web-work. Sam could see a bit by the light their portable Web shone, but the horses needed more. At their last rest, Ronan had managed to get a better range on the limited Web, and located a possible cavern. Sama'el was almost asleep in the saddle when Horse stopped, snorting nervously, and he realized they had found it. Over the years, he had grown used to trusting Horse's instincts, so he assumed there was something else in the cave. The wind was beginning to pick up as he slid out of the saddle, not enough energy for something with an acrobatic flourish. "Wait here," he said, voice growling from weariness. He pulled his dagger free from its sheath up his sleeve, the easiest access he could get in his heavier winter clothes. The witchlight, directed by his will, preceded him into the cave. It was certainly warmer within, and his nose caught what Horse's had: there was the decided muskiness of some sort of mammal. With his silent flame, he began to carefully explore. The cave entrance was high enough the horses could be let in with some coaxing, and it was spacious enough, with alcoves branching off almost like rooms. When he heard the snoring, though, his body tensed, crouched, and he went on the prowl, stepping carefully until he found what really was a separate room, and a sleeping bear. Sleeping or, rather, hibernating. "Blessed Semele," he intoned. "Thank you for the gift of this, your body. Caiyha, I take the life of this, your child, that the people who depend on me may survive the storms of winter, as one day my life will be given up for more life." He daren't speak to Oriana, though he would offer her something later, when their survival was more assured. "Holy Viratas," he continued, kneeling down next to the weary beast, "I offer you this blood, shed for our survival. I vow it will not be in vain." With that, he quickly slit the bear's throat, cradling its huge head in his lap as it died peacefully, its lifeblood pouring out with each slow beat of its great heart. He put a cupped hand out under the flow, drank a mouthful of the warm blood, not so hot as it would be come spring's awakening. The sweetness hit the back of his throat, and the metallic tang. It bled out into its bedding, the which they would use later to start a fire, when it had dried. At last, it was still.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

When he had gone outside, Issima and Denen gasped at all the blood, but quickly realized it wasn't his. As they filed in to make the place a home, if temporarily, he caused his witchlight to flare with a sudden burst of added res that they might light a few torches to explore the place and start the cookfire that would feed them and keep them warm. For his part, he lowered his witchlight and let it melt some snow, crouching to wash the blood off his hands. He was quick about that, as he only flashed the fire long enough to melt and not warm the water, then followed his people inside. They would live as their ancestors had, underground, fleeing the chaos of the Valterrian. For one last second, he watched the beautiful threat of the horizon, his eye outlined by Syna's grace, and then he too was inside. They had all set about seeing to the animals, to warmth and to sleeping arrangements, and he smiled as he moved through them, touching one here or there because touching a person helped you know they were there, real, and a part of your life. He returned to the bear, his victim, their dead host. Pulling out his hunting knife, he carefully split the beast, who had died so peacefully, from neck to nuts, then cutting a collar around its neck, and from the gig line down its extremities, the easier to pull its skin off in one great piece. The skin was a bit tough, but his knife was sharp and his muscles determined. Though it was midwinter, he was pleased to note that there was still some fat and meat on the beast, which meant rich repast for however long they were squatters here. Now they needn't hunt until the weather cleared, and then they would plow ahead, onward, toward Avanthal. Sama'el slipped the point of his knife under the edges of the skin, working it away from the flesh, and he did this delicate work along all those edges, preparing them for the bloody task ahead. Ronan might help him soon, or even Denen, who knew anatomy as well as anyone, to help him cut off slabs of bear steak, remove edible organs while preserving those that were dangerous to be properly disposed of. He would let Issima cook while he saw to the bearskin, which needn't be turned into proper, hairless leather, but treated so as not to rot, but to keep them warm through this harrowing winter. Once the edges of the skin were free, he took a corner from the bear's neck and began to pull the skin away, slipping his knife up under to ease it away, cutting through any connective tissues that would hamper the process. This was easier than normal, the bear's skin a bit loose from the steady loss in body mass through hibernation, but it was still a formidable job. Sama'el would, of course, be the last to sleep.

[Cayenne]

Bears, hibernating or not, did not sleep so soundly not to wake to intruders in their den. All hibernating creatures woke up periodically, and bears, in particular, did not fall into a deep, dead sleep. They only went into a torpor, and they were able to regain awareness quite quickly. Now was one such time. But luck was on his side, for now, as the bear struggled to regain enough awareness to fight him off, beginning to buck and thrash, and he felt an explosion of pain in his left side that was accompanied by a loud crack. It seemed, however, that the bear had broken at least one rib - it hurt when he breathed, it would hurt when he got up. Taking a deep breath hurt even more. But it was still at last, leaving him to drink its vitae and hoping that those whose names he had invoked would be enough.

They weren’t.

“How DARE you!” He heard a voice behind him as he began to skin the bear. It was filled with the terrible rage that could only belong to the female of the species. He was jerked around, his shoulder clenched tightly, painfully so, his sensitivity to the Web screaming that there was another presence here, two of them, as something struck at him, ripping at his face.How he avoided having his eyes gouged out, the Drykas man would never know. He felt his blood spill from from his skin, torn as easily as one would slice a sharp knife through paper. In the darkness and the flickering firelight, he could see her, a plainly dressed woman, clad in the darker greens and browns of the woodlands, a simple skirt and shirt and shawl, nearly naked in consideration of what clothing was needed for this environment. She was tall and well-rounded, her skin fairly pale, standing out in the dark, her hair short, but her eyes were a fiery, luminescent green. “HOW DARE YOU!?” In every syllable, he heard and felt the feral rage that could only belong to the divine. The horses screamed in fear, and he felt their hooves clattering as they jerked and pulled at their ties, as the very earth shook with an unnatural roar that belonged to a very angry bear indeed.

Kuma far outsized the horses, roaring again with a primal rage that seemed to shake the earthen walls of the cave. The bear seemed to fill the den’s maw, blotting out any light from the outside, and leaving them trapped with no escape. He roared again, the sound deafening to all of them, threatening not only the horses, but his other companions. The woman was unbothered as her eyes flashed and she struck him again, human-seeming hands ripping through skin and muscle along his arms. The rain of blows sent him sprawling. “Little human coward. You skin my child... shall I skin you where you stand?” Her hands dripped red, like his had, but unlike his, the blood that coated her pale skin was his. She grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, lifting him easily, only to slam him against the jagged walls, holding him there with no apparent effort. His blood dripped into his eyes, and the cacophony in the background did not make focusing any easier.

“I will take from you as you have taken from me,” her voice was a snarl, the voice of every mother who had lost a child. “Choose! Your left ear or your right ear. CHOOSE!” She roared, making his bones ache with her fury as she shoved him against the wall yet again. His blood co-mingled with the blood of the bear that stained his flesh, his wounds wide. They would require immediate care. He would doubtless realize that if he survived this encounter with the Great Mother, he might yet die from blood loss the longer that he dragged his out, and for his choice in the cave, his companions might also pay with their lives.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

His luck, it seemed, had certainly run out. That he had managed to kill a drowsy bear with only a cracked rib was luck. That the bear had allies was not so good for him and his growing family. If Semele had received his offering, he knew no sign. Nor from Caiyha or Viratas, only Caiyha's daughter, blind with rage. He was struck repeatedly, his witchlight flaring out and dying, and only the lights from the outer chambers of the cave filtered in. But the goddess and her companion bear had swept past them, not even tripping the Web until they were upon him, and the horses screamed their fear while his family hastened to calm them, perhaps not yet aware of what had descended upon them in their gratitude for a place they could warm up and call their own until the blizzard had run its course and blown over. Her blow had his face bleeding, his mark from Syna marred, and blood came from his arm, shoulder dislocated, a twinge deep within from that rib. He was so shocked that he couldn't scrabble for his knife. She called him a coward. Was he? It seemed he had done the brave thing, stealing into the cave alone to secure it for his family. They had all followed him north, thinking it a lark, an adventure, though he had warned them of the danger. That he had begun to skin the creature seemed only logical and respectful, living by the goddess' mother's law, kill or be killed, and make use of what was taken. The meat could feed them, the fur ward of Morwen's embrace. Should he have left the corpse to rot in the back of the cave without his prayers to play psychopomp for the bear's soul? She pinned him to the wall, spears of pain shooting through him, and then fading into a duller agony. She offered him one of those impossible choices, and he didn't fight back. Is that why she called him a coward? Because he would not fight a goddess? He was not brave Myri to kill War himself. He was not crafty Sagallius to steal the heart of a god. It was a shame, though, really. He did not begrudge his life being so short. The lives of most Drykas were. It was only he had come so close to turning everything around: escaping slavery in Sunberth, returning to Endrykas, building his reputation, marrying... Perhaps Kasb'el would return and raise the pavilion's banner from the dust as Sama'el could not, and look after his young wife, with whom he had certainly tried night after night to make new life. "I..." he coughed blood, "I needed a place for my family..." He gathered himself. "I cannot choose." He coughed again. Perhaps if he were smarter, literate so he could read the tales, he would have known which was the proper choice. "Please, Great Mother, don't hurt my family."

[Cayenne]

“Do you feel that by refusing to make a choice, I will let you go without making you chose either?” Oriana shook him again, her grip tight, his bones aching under her grasp. His muscles screamed for mercy. A little tighter, and his arms would be useless. “Then I will choose for you.” She dropped him, then, letting him slide against the wall of the cave, her fists clenching, eyes flashing.

“You killed my family... and for that, you will repay my loss,” the Alvina turned away from Sama’el, moving past Kuma towards Issima, approaching even as she backed away and flattened herself against the wall. She laid a hand on her stomach, devoid of the force she had attacked the young woman's husband with, but she seemed to pin her against the wall all the same. “Your child will be mine,” Oriana removed her hand, looking back at the Drykas, from where he lay aching and bloody. “Your babe to come will be my cub. Your mate may not survive his birth.” Her face was dark in the cave as she stepped away from Issima as the massive bear growled at them in the silence.

“This infant will be your last, should you fail to raise him right. I will come for him when he turns one year of age,” she turned back to him, squatting down beside him, at his level. The rage had faded to a coldness that made the chill outside seem warm by comparison. “And should you kill my cub again, you will find that the length and spread of every land you could travel will not be big enough to hide you, and all of your companions, in... from Taldera's cold plains to the mountains of Kalea, to the jungles of Falyndar... on your grassy meadows of Cyphrus, or the rolling hills of Sylira... the sandy beaches of Konti Isle... the sweltering desert of Eyktol... I will find you. And then I will take your ear... and all that is attached.” She pressed her hand against his aching shoulder, and he felt a terrible sensation, like thunder that had come far too close, from his hair to his toes. When she lifted her hand, he found a blackened bear paw emblazoned on his flesh, and made a terrible realization.

He could no longer smell the sticky sweet blood of the bear. He could no longer smell the sweaty fear-scents given off by the horses. He could no longer smell Oriana, all heather and musk. His sense of smell had deserted him. She rose, then. “One year,” Caiyha’s child told him. “You will have one year to rectify your mistake. For now, you may keep your ear. Come, Kuma,” she told the bear, laying her hand on his shoulder, before the two of them turned and walked out into the blizzard, leaving the young family alone in the darkness.

Short thread, but that doesn't make it unimportant. Sneaking up on bears is never healthy, especially since they don't sleep soundly... especially when you waltz into a cave with Reimancy... and speak to it. I hereby award the following: Land Navigation: 1 XP Wilderness Survival: 1 XP Skinning: 1 XP Lore: Sneaking Into Caves In Taldera Is Not Smart Oriana's Rage Gnosis: Oriana: 1 Negative Mark Other: 1 Torn/Poorly Skinned Bearhide (4 XP in skinning does not produce lovely serviceable hides). Important IC Note For Future Threads: -The wounds Oriana left will not heal cleanly. -Issima's baby will be a male bear cub.