Flashback [Mirahil Pass] A Merciful Night

[Bartholomew Mercy]

1st of Fall, 510 Hung swung from a hammock high above ground rested the young hunter. It had been an easy day to rest with the coolness of fall bringing in a gentle breeze to rock his perch, but now it was time to wake up. The sky had grown dim and darkness fell across the lands. Shadows had long since stretched long, and stars began to sparkle into life above the canopy. With a breath of the cool night air and the parting of his eyes, the green gems stare up to the sky and so greet the night with a mirrored spark of life. With a roll to his left he carefully placed a bare foot onto a thick branch and took a glance to the ground far below. A smile spread across his lips at the sight, a snare left the night before had caught breakfast, a healthy looking rabbit lit by the vague light of the moon. Lifting his gaze to focus on a new task, he walks along the branch towards the tree it protruded from and with nimble fingers he untied the hammock’s knot. Pulling taught against the other side, the young man steps from the branch and swings across into the thick of another nearby tree. Once he catches foothold onto a new branch, he scales upwards the few feet needed to untie the hammock’s last binding ropes. With no more holding his bedding, Mercy once more steps from his perch and falls only a few feet till he catches onto a rope hung to the very branch he had left. The rope allowed him to descend another few feet while lifting a bundle of equipment on the other end of a pulley, just enough for him to reach down to the anchored knot on the tree trunk and pull the end of the rope. With balance, Mercy only had to scale down for the rope to ascend one way and descend the other. When the light thump arose from the ground below and Mercy swung a leg forward to catch a branch. Scaling back up just enough, he untied the pulley and dropped it to the ground below with another satisfying thump. Branch by branch, Mercy scales the tree down. He took great care in doing so, often holding his breath when a branch creaked too much for comfort. When he could no longer find a foothold, the young hunter lowers to sit on the lowest perch and peer down. It was a ten foot drop, a bit too far to jump. The Hammock had been resting over his shoulder, but now it was again brought into use. Laying it over the branch which he sat upon, the young man then drops down to clutch to either rope. Successfully cutting the distance in half, Mercy sways to the right, then to the left, and to the right again, this time releasing his left hand’s grip on the Hammock’s ties. Thrown at an angle, he lands upon soft grass, rolling to suppress the impact and doing so quite well. When returning to his feet, the hunter returns to the new night’s first welcoming, the rabbit caught in his snare. The creature struggles for freedom, but with luck, the thin rope had caught both back legs. In the dim light he could see the creature’s smooth brown fur, gently speckled by white but not overrun by it. Untying the thin rope from the snare trap, Mercy lifted the creature and rose to his feet. Moving over to the tarp of equipment and untying yet another knot, he reaches in to tug out a partially buried backpack and slip a hand inside. Out came the razor sharp hunting knife. “Hush, hush, little creature; it will be over soon enough.” Despite his words, the animal continued to struggle, and it was right too. The first target of the knife was the poor creature’s neck, giving it at least a quick death. The next target was each leg, where he cut a ring through the hide but no further. A long cut across the belly of the animal from genitals to the neck made it easy to part the hide and begin pealing it off, one leg at a time to reveal the bare, naked meat underneath. Cutting the hide from the head, the rabbit fell into three pieces. The hide was laid upon his pile of belongings, while the head was dropped to the ground. Next another cut was made along the belly to open up the gut. Without hesitation he reaches into the gore and scrapes out the once fluffy creature’s innards onto the ground, near the head. With the meal ready for cooking, he reaches back into his backpack and removes a Flint & Steel, before heading off to a small pile of gathered wood and tinder. Kneeling beside the pile, he paused, closing his eyes. The wooded area was silent, but not overly so. Light chirping of birds, the scampering of small animals, and a high pitched squeak of a rogue bat or two. It all seemed well enough to begin. It took a few chimes to coax a decent sized flame to the pile, enough for cooking his breakfast. Using the same thin rope which had bound it, he ties the rabbit’s front and back legs over a thicker stick and carefully rests it over the fire, propped on one stone yet pinned down by another on the rear of the stick. With the fire still low and the rabbit just close enough to cook, he moved back to his belongings to continue on his waking ritual under the stars. Flicking off the tarp from his equipment, Mercy finds himself lifting up pieces of his prized armor. One by one he lashes himself into the form fit, intimidating design. The unique design made it harder to put on, but when he did, it was almost momentous. Every time he fit into the armor he felt this, the rush of the night. Fitting his prided cloak to his shoulders and coiling his whip to the special hook on the back of his belt, he felt ready to take on anything the night could throw his way. For now the helmet remained rested upon the pile, he still had to eat breakfast after all – and on that thought he returns to the growing fire to finish playing Chef and enjoy a hot meal to start his night off right.

[Bartholomew Mercy]

One Bell Later: The sound of the metal wheel and rattling cart bumping about over rocks and small dips in the path filled the night air. It was not quite so deafening that the man lugging it could not hear the world around them. The sounds of small animals skittering about across the darkened ground or fluttering about in the night sky still caught Mercy’s attention. The man was silent in his own steps, his lips ever shut so that he may hear past his own breath, the wonders of the night around him. Luckily he did not have to drag the cart long before he could stop and settle it beneath a tree, hidden beneath a camouflage tarp. He had removed only his massive sword from the pile before pulling a few dead branches over it for an added concealment. Moving away from his gear and deeper into the woodland of the mountains, he headed for a familiar sound, rushing water. Mercy took care with his foot placements now. With his leather helm lifted so he could peer out of the mouth of his beastly armor, he made sure not to step on any twigs or leaves, even grass which looked too dry he avoided. It took longer, but virtuously he was silent in his approach. A smell welcomed him soon enough… the musty odor of fresh urine. The particular musk he could denote to deer urine. At first he thought he had gotten lucky, till he heard a deep groan of a sound. It was a moose, just one by the sound of it. Mercy reaches under his cloak for his trusted whip and lightly unfurls the coiled leather. The length draped to the ground, whispering sounds of its presence. Taking time to move now, he listened with great care. There were no sounds of frantic movement ahead, meaning he was still unnoticed. Two more steps closer brought the large beast to his line of sight. It was healthy with large antlers and a promise for good harvest, if only he could get close enough. Each step he had to glance down for. The ground was littered with twigs and leaves due to the season change, making his task much more difficult. When he neared the clearing, Mercy lifted the whip in one hand and the executioner’s sword in the other. Slowly, he counted backwards from three and when the last digit crossed his mind he takes a quick, preplanned step forward and lashes out with his whip. With a satisfying snap, the whip lashed around one of the moose’s antlers, but the sudden change spooked the beast. It made an odd yowling sound before bucking hard; almost yanking the young hunter right off his feet, but when he managed to hold his ground the moose turned and attempted to charge. Perfect. When it draws close, Mercy hefts the massive sword with a single hand. He knew it impossible to deal a kill shot with only one hand active; he simply did not have the coordination for such an awkward weapon. Instead, he concocted another tactic. Dropping it between himself and the moose, the pommel dug into the ground and with a touch to the back of the broad blade it leans forward. He had timed it just right! The moose tried to stop, but alas the tip of the blade dug into the beast’s neck with its own momentum. It was dead before it could fall to the ground.

[Bartholomew Mercy]

A Bell and Forty-five Chimes later: Flash! The sky lit up for a split moment as lightning streaked from the heavens in the distance. The storm was rolling in fast, leaving the young hunter to work in haste for camp. Boom! The sound made his hands shake as he worked to tie a knot while standing several stories up in a large tree. The rope he was working with tied off to another tree not far behind him, with a block and tackle hung in the center and the lead rope resting on his shoulder with a large knot at the end. When feeling the cross line was secure he turns slowly on the branch and with a deep breath, moves the lead rope from his shoulder so the knot rests at his foot. Stepping from his branch his feet clutch just above the knot and down he glides. On the other end the large moose rose, skinned and bled, rose into the air. As he swung across towards the center of the sagging rope, he twists and reaches out to push past the block and tackle so he continued on to the other tree. About a half of the way down he found a branch sturdy enough to catch onto. Releasing the rope with his feet and holding onto it with one hand he pulled the line close to wrap it around the trunk and tie a firm slipknot. With his catch hanging in the branches, he scaled down the tree, one foot carefully finding the next branch lower, then the other working for the next. It was precarious due to the lack of light from a now cloudy sky. After making it to the ground, Mercy moves to his small pile of belongings and hefts his oversized weapon from under the tarp and drags it towards a thick gathering of young trees. Lifting his sword over his shoulder and giving it a mighty swing, the massive blade snapped and cleaved through four trees, each only an inch in diameter. One by one he pulls them out into the open ground, eyeing their span fully. At around ten foot to fifteen, he lined them up and diced them each, with the thicker drunks cut at five foot. Dropping his sword to the side he turns the tops of the trees and lays them over the trunks. Being nice and bendable he began weaving the cross sections together, using the thin branches to bind them nice and tight for a semi-waterproof looking barrier. Flash! He had little time left to finish, so with haste he rose to his feet and lugs both the woven barrier and his sword to his rough campsite. Past the tarp, till he arrived at the same tree he had tied the crossline of his block and tackle to. His hammock rested here, on the opposite side the moose hung, and much lower to the ground for safety. Crack! BOOM! Mercy near jumped out of his skin at this, and with even more hast he lifts his sword and stabs it down into the ground at the foot of his hammock. Hefting the makeshift roof overhead, the young hunter wedges it between branches, bending it so one corner could rest atop his sword to keep it firmly lodged in place. Perfect. Without even removing his armor he leaps into the hammock and dropped his helm so that he could not see the bright flashes, save through the sheer red fabric over the slits. He could only wait till the storm ended, and with every fiber in his being he hoped that would be soon.

[Paragon]

Mercy

Experience

Skill	XP Earned
Wilderness Survival	3
Climbing	2
Acrobatics	1
Skinning	2
Cooking	1
Whip	1
Sword	1
Tactics	1

Lores

•	Lore Earned
•	Using a Hammock for Descent
•	Skinning Rabbit
•	Building a Waterproof Barrier

Legend Becomes Reality

Good detail regarding living in the wilderness. If you have any questions or concerns regarding your grade, please send me a PM and we can work from there.