Spring of 504 AV
The terror of the plains, they were. Glassbeaks. Able to bring a chill to the spine of any seasoned warrior, able to track down any hunter, and evade any number of pursuers, these beasts were a match for any number of Drykasmen. Today, this would be our quarry. We would hunt the Glassbeaks.
It was spring, and we were riding north getting ever closer to the city of Riverfall, where we would trade with the Akalaks on our way further along the coast. However, our scouts hadn't been returning from their rides, and all we could find were the remnants of horses and riders, ripped apart by some fierce beast. Studying the claw marks and how the bodies had been picked apart, could only lead to one conclusion. The call was set amongst the Emerald pavilions, Glassbeaks needed tending to, and those bravest or those on a dare, answered. There were about six or seven of us, most of us Emerald clan, including me and my father, as well as one or two Diamond clan warriors seeking a good battle, making our number about eight or nine. I prayed that would be enough.
We rode further north along the trails the previous scouts had used, and looked around the areas the bodies had been discovered for tracks. We found the tracks the rider had taken, and found the ones left by the attacker. They came from all sides, which hinted that there may have been more, or that one was defending its kill from others. Either explanation left that there were more than one. We steeled ourselves. Further examination of the body revealed that the scout was taken and killed before he could draw his weapon, the poor soul, so there would be little hope finding a blood trail. I searched the bushes and outlying area for blood drops that may lead to a trail, hoping the Glassbeaks had a scuffle amongst themselves that may have drawn blood. Such beasts were territorial enough, one would be wise not to go near one's fresh kill. None were found. No readable trails around the body, only that the body had been dragged further north, then they all disappeared. Fortune didn't favor us, it seemed.
That is, until we found a second body. East of the first kill, this one was also ravaged, however, he managed to draw his weapon, and he drew blood. I searched for drag marks, and found them. This scout went down swinging, and struck flesh it seemed, as he was drug to meet his demise. Again, there was not much left, and the same mix-matched trail around the body that hinted towards multiple attackers. I did take notice of the drag marks, and compared them to the ones from the other body. They seemed to be heading in the same central direction... I investigated further.
We weren't the only ones out there. I could feel it. We were being watched. Something had claimed this territory. The Glassbeaks knew we were coming. We must have been close to something precious. I could feel their eyes on us. Something was amiss. We were traveling in the direction the bodies had been drug, northwest, when we saw the riders. A party of Akalaks. Hailing them from our position, we rode to meet them in peace.
“What brings you so far from your carts, Drykasmen? And dressed for war, no less.” One of the blue warriors, the leader I suppose, said as we reached speaking distance.
“We hunt Glassbeaks that have been feasting on our scouts,” my father said, “What brings you from Riverfall, friend?”
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Terror on the Plains (Flashback) (Solo)
Cutting Teeth on Glass Beaks
(This is a thread from Mizahar's fantasy role playing forum. Why don't you register today? This message is not shown when you are logged in. Come roleplay with us, it's fun!)The Wilderness of Cyphrus is an endless sea of tall grass that rolls just like the oceans themselves. Geysers kiss the sky with their steamy breath, and mysterious craters create microworlds all their own. But above all danger lives here in the tall grass in the form of fierce wild creatures; elegant serpents that swim through the land like whales through the ocean and fierce packs of glassbeaks that hunt in packs which are only kept at bay by fires. Traverse it carefully, with a guide if possible, for those that venture alone endanger themselves in countless ways.
Terror on the Plains (Flashback) (Solo)
by Rothyr Windbourne on August 16th, 2012, 3:30 am
Last edited by Rothyr Windbourne on August 21st, 2012, 2:30 am, edited 3 times in total.
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Rothyr Windbourne - Player
- Posts: 127
- Words: 79433
- Joined roleplay: July 30th, 2012, 9:54 am
- Race: Human, Drykas
- Character sheet
Terror on the Plains (Flashback)
by Rothyr Windbourne on August 16th, 2012, 3:30 am
“The regular caravans have been returning with less guards than they left with, and no more goods than when they departed. They spoke of giant birds killing their warriors, and so they hired us.” He motioned to his men. I suppose they were hunters of note. I'd never heard of them.
“Mercenaries?” my father asked.
“Hunters, like yourself. The best in Riverfall, I might add.” the leader replied.
“How many trophies do you claim? And how many of them Glassbeaks, Hunter?” said my father.
“Thirty five, and twenty.”
“A bold claim. We shall see how much iron it holds. You are welcome to hunt with us, if you like. You're welcome to whatever bounty you may claim for the kill, if you'll leave us the body.”
“That sounds reasonable. I accept the terms of partnership.”
“Good, you may live to see thirty six bounties then, friend.”
“As if it were in doubt.”
We rode together. Our number was now about a dozen, and the prospects of returning with a successful hunt were significantly improved. These Akalak hunters were well equipped with nets, spears, tridents, knives, axes, and bows. Only two carried swords, but they all carried skinning knives for collecting trophies, as well as strong armor of leather and splint-mail. They looked quite the warriors. The Diamond clan were the only ones among us who were likewise armed with some metal armor, but predominately leather, and they carried bows, spears, swords and shields. Whereas my Emerald clansmen and I wore only leather, and carried bows, nets, spears, throwing knives, and throwing axes. We also carried skinning knives like the Akalaks. We were hunters too, after all.
My father, however, carried a special skinning knife. This was not his first ride against the Glassbeaks. His knife was not made of iron, or flint like most hunters knives. His was a claw. A large, sharpened, hooked claw of a Glassbeak from long ago. His first trophy from a Glassbeak hunt, he took the claw and made a tool of it. As impressive as it may sound to an outsider, such things happened often. Many heirlooms are born as such, and much of our tools and such are made from the trophies of the hunt. It would be an insult to our way of life, to the web we are a part of, to let a fellow creature of the plains go to waste after the soul returns to the web. He did not claim a trophy when he made the skinning knife. He paid respect.
As much as he paid respect to the world around him, honoring it with his every breath and using all it gave him, people respected my father. We hailed from the Goldsaddle pavilion, and my father was one of the very few male Ankals of our people. I surprised many growing as old as I did, and my father surprised more. Many Drykasmen die young, being worthy of note if they reach the age of thirty, but my father was that and fifteen more! Where a young Drykasman will die of harsh conditions, murder, wild animals, all these things, which managed to happen to Elder Goldsaddle, he survived, emerged victorious, and grew stronger. Some jested that, considering his age, he survived the Valterrian. He would laugh at that joke, and say someone had to keep the trouble out of their caves. He was a good man, and loved by many. But that is how many who love their family see their fathers, however I still consider it the truth. Many people asked him how he made it so far, and he claimed luck. But I got him alone one eve on a night of celebration, where many were drunk and sleeping, and I asked him the same question. He told me then, drunk himself, “Think, don't be stupid, keep your eyes and ears open, and hunt like you were being hunted.” Amongst the fiercest warriors of the plains, our people stood, but there are things out there that look at us and grow hungry. He always remembered that.
“Mercenaries?” my father asked.
“Hunters, like yourself. The best in Riverfall, I might add.” the leader replied.
“How many trophies do you claim? And how many of them Glassbeaks, Hunter?” said my father.
“Thirty five, and twenty.”
“A bold claim. We shall see how much iron it holds. You are welcome to hunt with us, if you like. You're welcome to whatever bounty you may claim for the kill, if you'll leave us the body.”
“That sounds reasonable. I accept the terms of partnership.”
“Good, you may live to see thirty six bounties then, friend.”
“As if it were in doubt.”
We rode together. Our number was now about a dozen, and the prospects of returning with a successful hunt were significantly improved. These Akalak hunters were well equipped with nets, spears, tridents, knives, axes, and bows. Only two carried swords, but they all carried skinning knives for collecting trophies, as well as strong armor of leather and splint-mail. They looked quite the warriors. The Diamond clan were the only ones among us who were likewise armed with some metal armor, but predominately leather, and they carried bows, spears, swords and shields. Whereas my Emerald clansmen and I wore only leather, and carried bows, nets, spears, throwing knives, and throwing axes. We also carried skinning knives like the Akalaks. We were hunters too, after all.
My father, however, carried a special skinning knife. This was not his first ride against the Glassbeaks. His knife was not made of iron, or flint like most hunters knives. His was a claw. A large, sharpened, hooked claw of a Glassbeak from long ago. His first trophy from a Glassbeak hunt, he took the claw and made a tool of it. As impressive as it may sound to an outsider, such things happened often. Many heirlooms are born as such, and much of our tools and such are made from the trophies of the hunt. It would be an insult to our way of life, to the web we are a part of, to let a fellow creature of the plains go to waste after the soul returns to the web. He did not claim a trophy when he made the skinning knife. He paid respect.
As much as he paid respect to the world around him, honoring it with his every breath and using all it gave him, people respected my father. We hailed from the Goldsaddle pavilion, and my father was one of the very few male Ankals of our people. I surprised many growing as old as I did, and my father surprised more. Many Drykasmen die young, being worthy of note if they reach the age of thirty, but my father was that and fifteen more! Where a young Drykasman will die of harsh conditions, murder, wild animals, all these things, which managed to happen to Elder Goldsaddle, he survived, emerged victorious, and grew stronger. Some jested that, considering his age, he survived the Valterrian. He would laugh at that joke, and say someone had to keep the trouble out of their caves. He was a good man, and loved by many. But that is how many who love their family see their fathers, however I still consider it the truth. Many people asked him how he made it so far, and he claimed luck. But I got him alone one eve on a night of celebration, where many were drunk and sleeping, and I asked him the same question. He told me then, drunk himself, “Think, don't be stupid, keep your eyes and ears open, and hunt like you were being hunted.” Amongst the fiercest warriors of the plains, our people stood, but there are things out there that look at us and grow hungry. He always remembered that.
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Rothyr Windbourne - Player
- Posts: 127
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- Joined roleplay: July 30th, 2012, 9:54 am
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Terror on the Plains (Flashback)
by Rothyr Windbourne on August 16th, 2012, 3:31 am
“Have you found any bodies of your caravan guards?” Elder Goldsaddle spoke to the leader of the Akalak bounty hunters, who rode next to him.
“East of here, where I am taking you presently. One east of here, and two southeast of him. There is some distance between them, all drug across the ground south, and the other two west.” he replied, pointing ahead to where some blood was sprayed across a bush. That particular kill had been gory, probably by a youngster cutting his teeth.
“We found one of our riders south of here, drug north, and another east of him drug northwest, that is when we saw your party,” my father said.
I rode up to hear the master hunters talk, and possibly learn something. I had large shoes to fill, and didn't dare to even try and learn as much as my father knew the hard way.
“They almost form a circle, don't you think?” I said, interjecting from the side.
“The boy has a point. What do you think, Drykasman?” the Akalak leader said.
“This may be a wild guess, it being spring and all... But I reckon we have a nest on our hands.” Elder Goldsaddle said, stroking his chin.
I wasn't the only one who prayed he was mistaken.
We formed teams, each one focused around a general area where a body was killed. My father supposed that each kill had been drug closer to a nest, that the younger ones may feed. That would explain the grouping of tracks around the bodies, the dragging, and the lack of Glassbeak bloodshed. The way it seemed, some Glassbeaks had formed a nest in the path of the Drykas migration, and the scouts and outriders of Endrykas, and the caravan scouts of Riverfall rode right into their hunting grounds. The bodies were then drug towards their nest where the Alpha's younglings could feed. We pooled information, and reckoned the kills had all happened within the same few days, which meant at least one alpha, two or three adults, and a mess of younglings. This was going to get messy very quickly. But luckily, my father had a plan.
The younglings would not fight unless threatened; it would be the alpha and his mates that would attack if the nest was threatened. He picked the swiftest riders among us, three for three teams. The way he explained it, the Akalaks and the Diamond clan warriors, being the heavier set lads, would hold a net at the ready, and as the swift riders would draw the Glassbeaks to them, they would tangle them up in the net, and spear them to death. It would require swift action, as it wouldn't take much for a Glassbeak to overpower a pair of Akalaks, or anyone for that matter. But the Akalak hunters agreed to it, and the Drykasmen reluctantly agreed. No one had any better ideas. So we prepared, and I steeled my reserve. I would be one of the riders.
“East of here, where I am taking you presently. One east of here, and two southeast of him. There is some distance between them, all drug across the ground south, and the other two west.” he replied, pointing ahead to where some blood was sprayed across a bush. That particular kill had been gory, probably by a youngster cutting his teeth.
“We found one of our riders south of here, drug north, and another east of him drug northwest, that is when we saw your party,” my father said.
I rode up to hear the master hunters talk, and possibly learn something. I had large shoes to fill, and didn't dare to even try and learn as much as my father knew the hard way.
“They almost form a circle, don't you think?” I said, interjecting from the side.
“The boy has a point. What do you think, Drykasman?” the Akalak leader said.
“This may be a wild guess, it being spring and all... But I reckon we have a nest on our hands.” Elder Goldsaddle said, stroking his chin.
I wasn't the only one who prayed he was mistaken.
We formed teams, each one focused around a general area where a body was killed. My father supposed that each kill had been drug closer to a nest, that the younger ones may feed. That would explain the grouping of tracks around the bodies, the dragging, and the lack of Glassbeak bloodshed. The way it seemed, some Glassbeaks had formed a nest in the path of the Drykas migration, and the scouts and outriders of Endrykas, and the caravan scouts of Riverfall rode right into their hunting grounds. The bodies were then drug towards their nest where the Alpha's younglings could feed. We pooled information, and reckoned the kills had all happened within the same few days, which meant at least one alpha, two or three adults, and a mess of younglings. This was going to get messy very quickly. But luckily, my father had a plan.
The younglings would not fight unless threatened; it would be the alpha and his mates that would attack if the nest was threatened. He picked the swiftest riders among us, three for three teams. The way he explained it, the Akalaks and the Diamond clan warriors, being the heavier set lads, would hold a net at the ready, and as the swift riders would draw the Glassbeaks to them, they would tangle them up in the net, and spear them to death. It would require swift action, as it wouldn't take much for a Glassbeak to overpower a pair of Akalaks, or anyone for that matter. But the Akalak hunters agreed to it, and the Drykasmen reluctantly agreed. No one had any better ideas. So we prepared, and I steeled my reserve. I would be one of the riders.
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Rothyr Windbourne - Player
- Posts: 127
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- Joined roleplay: July 30th, 2012, 9:54 am
- Race: Human, Drykas
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Terror on the Plains (Flashback)
by Rothyr Windbourne on August 16th, 2012, 3:31 am
It didn't take long to find the nest. We kept our distance, and we picked our locations for the net-teams and the paths for the riders. We would ride in circles around the nest, taking shots with our bows until we had divided them amongst us, and we would ride our ways. Luckily, there were only three adults including the alpha, so we didn't have to take another from the kill-teams. We'd need every strong arm and keen eye we had there to make sure these beasts went down. We decided there before we began that we would try and draw them off one at a time, that we may reinforce the other net teams and kill teams to make the work easier, and all agreed save for the riders. We didn't voice it though, we would be strong for the clans that day.
It felt like ages before we got the go ahead to ride on. The teams were set up a good distance apart but all the same distance from the nest. We rode in a straight line towards the nest. I could see it clearly even as the land around me darted past. Bones and rotting flesh strewn across the ground around broken shells, and those still unhatched among them. Hundreds more may die if we failed here today, and I planned on outliving my father. I could see the hate in the alpha males' eyes as I rode past the nest, loosing my first arrow into their flock. The other two who rode right loosed theirs, and I saw one of the beasts drop. They kept in their circle, the Glassbeaks did, unsure of what to do. These mere pests, us men of the plains, rode about them and shot them with arrows like they we were predators. Another dropped, and another. Their young died around them, and the rage took the adults. The alpha took after the other two riders with me, and he leaped at the first man, gashing him down the arm with his feral claws.
“Ride on!” I cried to him, “He's after you!” As if he needed me to let him know, but it may have saved him. He rode on to the nearest net team, the alpha following close behind. I did not see him after he cleared the bushes, but from what I was told after, he rode past the net teams, and they netted the alpha. There wasn't a clean kill, they sat and stabbed and hacked and slashed at him till they almost destroyed the net that caught him before he stopped trying to kill everything around him. He was a fearsome beast, and there wasn't much left of him when death took him.
That still left myself and the other rider. His nerve left him, after seeing his comrade nearly lose his arm, and he panicked. One of the two females picked him for her quarry, and started after him. He loosed arrow after arrow but found no target. He lost his calm, and lost his aim because of it. He rode his horse too hard, and his poor steed stumbled into a bush, tossing him into the brambles. The horse got away, but the foul creature found him in the bush and tore him limb from limb, not even stopping to eat him before turning on me.
I already had one on me. I taunted and teased her. I made her angry. That was my goal, because when your adversary is angry; your adversary will make mistakes. When your adversary makes mistakes is when you can make your kill. And I was there to kill that day. My plan changed, however. I now had two Glassbeaks fighting for my blood, so I was on the run again. I raced towards the nearest net team, hoping I could clear one through there and draw the second elsewhere, but I had no luck. One of the females managed to be constrained, I could hear the Akalaks straining to contain her, even with the aid of two Diamond clan warriors while spears and arrow found flesh in the confined animal under them. The second female leaped over the others and came straight for me. I rode hard, my strider was growing tired, dripping with white luminescent sweat, and the beast closed in behind me. I dared not look behind lest I find its eyes and lose my nerve.
But, I did not want to die that day.
It felt like ages before we got the go ahead to ride on. The teams were set up a good distance apart but all the same distance from the nest. We rode in a straight line towards the nest. I could see it clearly even as the land around me darted past. Bones and rotting flesh strewn across the ground around broken shells, and those still unhatched among them. Hundreds more may die if we failed here today, and I planned on outliving my father. I could see the hate in the alpha males' eyes as I rode past the nest, loosing my first arrow into their flock. The other two who rode right loosed theirs, and I saw one of the beasts drop. They kept in their circle, the Glassbeaks did, unsure of what to do. These mere pests, us men of the plains, rode about them and shot them with arrows like they we were predators. Another dropped, and another. Their young died around them, and the rage took the adults. The alpha took after the other two riders with me, and he leaped at the first man, gashing him down the arm with his feral claws.
“Ride on!” I cried to him, “He's after you!” As if he needed me to let him know, but it may have saved him. He rode on to the nearest net team, the alpha following close behind. I did not see him after he cleared the bushes, but from what I was told after, he rode past the net teams, and they netted the alpha. There wasn't a clean kill, they sat and stabbed and hacked and slashed at him till they almost destroyed the net that caught him before he stopped trying to kill everything around him. He was a fearsome beast, and there wasn't much left of him when death took him.
That still left myself and the other rider. His nerve left him, after seeing his comrade nearly lose his arm, and he panicked. One of the two females picked him for her quarry, and started after him. He loosed arrow after arrow but found no target. He lost his calm, and lost his aim because of it. He rode his horse too hard, and his poor steed stumbled into a bush, tossing him into the brambles. The horse got away, but the foul creature found him in the bush and tore him limb from limb, not even stopping to eat him before turning on me.
I already had one on me. I taunted and teased her. I made her angry. That was my goal, because when your adversary is angry; your adversary will make mistakes. When your adversary makes mistakes is when you can make your kill. And I was there to kill that day. My plan changed, however. I now had two Glassbeaks fighting for my blood, so I was on the run again. I raced towards the nearest net team, hoping I could clear one through there and draw the second elsewhere, but I had no luck. One of the females managed to be constrained, I could hear the Akalaks straining to contain her, even with the aid of two Diamond clan warriors while spears and arrow found flesh in the confined animal under them. The second female leaped over the others and came straight for me. I rode hard, my strider was growing tired, dripping with white luminescent sweat, and the beast closed in behind me. I dared not look behind lest I find its eyes and lose my nerve.
But, I did not want to die that day.
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Rothyr Windbourne - Player
- Posts: 127
- Words: 79433
- Joined roleplay: July 30th, 2012, 9:54 am
- Race: Human, Drykas
- Character sheet
Terror on the Plains (Flashback)
by Rothyr Windbourne on August 16th, 2012, 3:31 am
I put all my faith and strength into my arm. I put that strength into my bow, into my arrow. I pulled back on the string as far as I could bend it back. I could feel every fiber stretching and scratching my cheek as I turned to look over my shoulder, and saw the gaping maw of the Glassbeak reaching for me. I took careful aim, right for the monster's open mouth, and let the arrow loose.
I am no master hunter. I won't claim to be better than I am. I won't boast or brag of victories I know were mere strokes of luck. But by the gods, that was a damn good, and lucky, shot.
My arrow flew straight from my bow into the open mouth of the Glassbeak, straight through the back of its head, through the spinal cord, and broke its' neck. It stumbled about dumbly before it finally fell over into the grass. I quickly jumped from my saddle, drew my knife, and slit its throat before it could rise again. Of course, I meant to recover the arrow also, for I assumed it to be lucky. The other hunters with us had seen what had transpired, and quickly ran and rode to join me in victory. Even the wounded rider, who's name was Oldo the One-Arm of the Sweetgrass pavilion. Poor lad had to have his arm removed. There wasn't much left of it after the Glassbeak swiped at it. I hear he's a potter now.
Clearing out the rest of the nest was easy work. Most of the Drykasmen didn't agree with it, but we lacked the numbers to kill all the younglings, so we set a controlled fire around the nest and burnt them alive. It worked in our favor in the end, because we were granted a feast of roasted Glassbeak, and delicious roasted Glassbeak eggs. We sat around a fire we had made, Drykas and Akalak both, eating merrily, and drinking liquor the Akalaks had brought and chose to share with their new hunt-brothers.
My father, ever respectful, rose to give a toast to their quarry that day, the Glassbeak alpha, his two mates, his children, both born and unborn.
“Let us pray their spirits return to a less violent form.” Oldo said, what was left of his arm bandaged up close to his torso, as he scooped some egg into his mouth using a piece of broken shell.
“What would you have them back as, Oldo? Rabbits?” one of the Diamond warriors replied in jest.
“Aye, rabbits sound fine. I could do for some stew.” Oldo said, and the hunters all laughed together.
When Drykas speak of the web, they mean an intertwining of all life around them, connected in one way or the other. When one dies, his or her flesh returns to the land, and returns to the plants around them, which feeds the wildlife which feeds others and so on. The soul goes back and returns in a new life form. Maybe a horse, or a dog, or maybe a human again. All life is connected, and all life is sacred. That day, in the Spring of 504 AV, many lives were ripped from the world. Both human, horse, and Glassbeak returned to the web that connects all spiritual life. But that evening, as warriors became drunk in their victory, after they rode to battle against a ferocious foe and returned alive, they grew closer than a web could ever bring them.
The next morning, the Akalaks departed for Riverfall with the trophies required for their bounty. The Drykas rode south for Endrykas with bones, claws, feathers, and beaks. Good friends said by and took their time as friends always do.
“Look after yourself, Friend-Hunter,” the Akalak leader said
“And you, Friend,” my father said, “Find me if you need aid on your thirty seventh trophy.” They shook hands and parted ways, and we rode back to our party as all waved towards one another.
“I have something for you, Rothyr.” my father said to me, “May it serve you better than it served the Glassbeak you killed. You seem to have a better reach than her, anyhow.”
He then handed me a hand ax, more of a pick really, but it was fashioned on a bone handle, with the beak of the Glassbeak I had killed the day before. The feathers adorned where the beak fixed to the handle, and the eyes had been fixed to the same place. It was a beautiful, if savage, work of weaponry, and now I had the striking power of the Glassbeaks in my hand.
“She gave her life to give you that weapon, my son, remember that always. Do not use her strength wastefully. She'll be watching, after all, in case I am not.”
“I live to survive, that our pavilion thrives. That is our creed, father. I won't let either of you down.” I said, holstering the Glassbeak pick-ax in my belt.
“There's a good lad,” he said. And so we rode on back south, back towards the pavilions of Endrykas to tell our tales, make our wares and prepare to trade with the Akalaks of Riverfall, as we had done for years. It wouldn't be the last time we would tangle with Glassbeaks, but that was my first. I will never forget it, either.
I am no master hunter. I won't claim to be better than I am. I won't boast or brag of victories I know were mere strokes of luck. But by the gods, that was a damn good, and lucky, shot.
My arrow flew straight from my bow into the open mouth of the Glassbeak, straight through the back of its head, through the spinal cord, and broke its' neck. It stumbled about dumbly before it finally fell over into the grass. I quickly jumped from my saddle, drew my knife, and slit its throat before it could rise again. Of course, I meant to recover the arrow also, for I assumed it to be lucky. The other hunters with us had seen what had transpired, and quickly ran and rode to join me in victory. Even the wounded rider, who's name was Oldo the One-Arm of the Sweetgrass pavilion. Poor lad had to have his arm removed. There wasn't much left of it after the Glassbeak swiped at it. I hear he's a potter now.
Clearing out the rest of the nest was easy work. Most of the Drykasmen didn't agree with it, but we lacked the numbers to kill all the younglings, so we set a controlled fire around the nest and burnt them alive. It worked in our favor in the end, because we were granted a feast of roasted Glassbeak, and delicious roasted Glassbeak eggs. We sat around a fire we had made, Drykas and Akalak both, eating merrily, and drinking liquor the Akalaks had brought and chose to share with their new hunt-brothers.
My father, ever respectful, rose to give a toast to their quarry that day, the Glassbeak alpha, his two mates, his children, both born and unborn.
“Let us pray their spirits return to a less violent form.” Oldo said, what was left of his arm bandaged up close to his torso, as he scooped some egg into his mouth using a piece of broken shell.
“What would you have them back as, Oldo? Rabbits?” one of the Diamond warriors replied in jest.
“Aye, rabbits sound fine. I could do for some stew.” Oldo said, and the hunters all laughed together.
When Drykas speak of the web, they mean an intertwining of all life around them, connected in one way or the other. When one dies, his or her flesh returns to the land, and returns to the plants around them, which feeds the wildlife which feeds others and so on. The soul goes back and returns in a new life form. Maybe a horse, or a dog, or maybe a human again. All life is connected, and all life is sacred. That day, in the Spring of 504 AV, many lives were ripped from the world. Both human, horse, and Glassbeak returned to the web that connects all spiritual life. But that evening, as warriors became drunk in their victory, after they rode to battle against a ferocious foe and returned alive, they grew closer than a web could ever bring them.
The next morning, the Akalaks departed for Riverfall with the trophies required for their bounty. The Drykas rode south for Endrykas with bones, claws, feathers, and beaks. Good friends said by and took their time as friends always do.
“Look after yourself, Friend-Hunter,” the Akalak leader said
“And you, Friend,” my father said, “Find me if you need aid on your thirty seventh trophy.” They shook hands and parted ways, and we rode back to our party as all waved towards one another.
“I have something for you, Rothyr.” my father said to me, “May it serve you better than it served the Glassbeak you killed. You seem to have a better reach than her, anyhow.”
He then handed me a hand ax, more of a pick really, but it was fashioned on a bone handle, with the beak of the Glassbeak I had killed the day before. The feathers adorned where the beak fixed to the handle, and the eyes had been fixed to the same place. It was a beautiful, if savage, work of weaponry, and now I had the striking power of the Glassbeaks in my hand.
“She gave her life to give you that weapon, my son, remember that always. Do not use her strength wastefully. She'll be watching, after all, in case I am not.”
“I live to survive, that our pavilion thrives. That is our creed, father. I won't let either of you down.” I said, holstering the Glassbeak pick-ax in my belt.
“There's a good lad,” he said. And so we rode on back south, back towards the pavilions of Endrykas to tell our tales, make our wares and prepare to trade with the Akalaks of Riverfall, as we had done for years. It wouldn't be the last time we would tangle with Glassbeaks, but that was my first. I will never forget it, either.
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Rothyr Windbourne - Player
- Posts: 127
- Words: 79433
- Joined roleplay: July 30th, 2012, 9:54 am
- Race: Human, Drykas
- Character sheet
Terror on the Plains (Flashback) (Solo)
by Jackalope on September 30th, 2012, 3:06 am
Results!
Rothyr :
Experience
+1 Tracking
+1 Riding
+2 Shortbow
Lore
Aklakas Are Hunters, Too
My Lucky Arrow
Glassbeaks: Taste Like Chicken
Item: Glassbeak Axe
+1 Tracking
+1 Riding
+2 Shortbow
Lore
Aklakas Are Hunters, Too
My Lucky Arrow
Glassbeaks: Taste Like Chicken
Item: Glassbeak Axe
Thanks for the quick fixes on the CS. The only I would still note is the emerald ring you've got. It's worth at least 225GM, but that's the price for a semi precious stone, which emeralds are more than. You can look here for the best breakout of that we've got to work with.
While it's an interesting way to write flashbacks, I don't believe you actually need to write them from a perspective like they already happened. It's better to think of it as something your character is reliving from their perspective rather than reminiscing on.
It was an enjoyable read, Rothyr. I enjoy your PC quite a bit, and am looking forward to reading more of his adventures! PM me with questions or concerns.
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