Outbreak (Closed)

[Sashisaxani]

Saxani shot a glance at Sal. It was almost insulting to question her wellbeing over a little scratch! She slid her tail behind her, a chunk of her tail sawed apart from the cat’s fangs and teeth. “Yes. Take anything that’s useful.” Saxani collected her stray arrows, one off the ground, and the other at the dead Myrian. She looked over the corpse briefly assessing her kill. Her arrow fell a bit shorter than she had hoped, but she’d account for that next time. Lowering herself to the body, she dug out the arrow and started to cut away at the Myrian with the tip. Like a dissection, the razor end was zipped down to open the savage up. The skin flaps folded open like a book, and she beheld the innards of her victim. She studied the creature briefly. She knew the heart was in the center, and saw how her arrow had pierced the apex – although she had no name for it – and how he bled from there. His heart might have stopped on impact even. More importantly, she saw the ribs. She wanted one; the kill was legitimate. Saxani reached into him, clasping the lower left bone. It took a bit of pressure and smacking, but the bone cracked at the sternum, and then at the vertebrae. Given a little work and cleaning it would make a fine addition to her necklace. Reexamining her cuts, she figured she could do better next time. They seemed a big jagged. The knife the Myrian wielded seemed dull. She could carve something superior herself. Then again, they didn’t have many knives or metals in the nest, so she took it anyway, slipping it somewhere on her harness for future use. The male seemed unceremoniously clothed, and was in rather poor health. The rest of the body was useless to her. Even his flesh was tainted by whatever illness this was. Upon closer examination of the heart, Saxani noticed that the tissue seemed to be tearing. Whatever had stricken these Myrians meant to kill. She began to wonder why they did not die like the rest. Saxani spent her time reexamining the Myrian while Salar looted the others. She started by looking between the Myrians there. She caught notice this one seemed to have lighter skin. She turned the hands over and compared. The difference was notable, though not entirely incredible. A moment of pause…she tried to recall the fight, if anything stuck over. Saxani slithered over to the other Myrian Sal was not presently attending too. She took measure by her tail and stood it up against a tree. She made a hash mark with her arrow tip. Going back to her kill, she re-measured and made a secondary mark along the other. She joined Salar in his looting briefly for a third measurement and marked the tree a third time. Saxani took the half minute to shift to her human form, marking her own height. Compared to most Myrians she encountered, she was taller by half a foot at most from her own experience, and that was with females. The males might mark off a foot. She started making more hash marks uncaring of her nude body or if Salar was peeking. “There’s something different about these Myrians,” she began. Referencing her data in the tree, she began to verbalize her theory to Salar in poor man’s common. Her sibilant accent was beyond obvious in this language, and her pronunciation seemed off. She was trying though, and the ideas were at least conveyed as clear as possible. “They are shorter than most I have fought. Look at this mark here; that’s me. Here is a female I had seen before this, and here is your kill – the girl. The boys are marked here… The shortest I’ve seen was…roughly here,” she said, making a stray mark somewhere between or above them both. Saxani rushed back to her kill and started to dissect him visually. “His skin is lighter too; I think that one is as well. Look at my arm, and then his.” She compared their relative skin tones. After all, she spent as much time in the sun as any Myrian sometimes. She did pass off as one with the right amount of effort too. If she didn’t have to talk, she could probably walk right into the capital, suggesting Myri doesn’t know every man and woman that is. Saxani checked other obscure things, arm length, genitals, and teeth, nothing that stated the obvious. She knew she was missing a piece of the puzzle, but would not stop until she found it. Like many Dhani who immerse themselves in an art, Saxani found hers in discovery. She would seek out the answers relentlessly. It was almost like having the old Saxani back, only now, as one could tell, she was very cold about things, factual, the icy dissecting knife… The passion had left her, the excitement, it was all necessity now. Peeling away at everything she could see she started to look deeper. She removed organs she never knew existed, examining them, saddened she had nothing to compare them to, nothing to call some of them by. This thing looked bigger than that thing, and the Queen would hang people with intestines like these; that one she knew. The Myrian had been ripped apart, pieces thrown a minimum of five feet from the body itself, but nothing had stuck out to her yet. If only she could see what made these Myrians from the rest... Oh, of course! She nearly cut herself as punishment for her stupidity. Saxani’s ace, so she figured, was in their eyes. She opened the lids of the eyes and extracted the eye balls. It took close examination in the fading light, but she saw the blue color to them. Saxani had generally ignored Salar in this brief interval with any of his questions or insights. Now she discovered something worthwhile. She would share this with her Queen. “Behold,” she wielded the eye to Salar, “His eyes are blue.” Alone this meant nothing, but she continued the explanation about this theory of difference. “The savages as I know them don’t normally have blue eyes,” she said, only her words were truly broken. She filled in whatever holes she had with Myrian. “They must have mated with something else. What has blue eyes? Other humans? They sail the seas with their blue eyes. And the skin, yes, it makes sense. These Myrians were mutts, half-breeds…mixed bloods.” This raised a hundred other questions in her mind, beginning with “Why didn’t the storm take away these half-bloods as well?” Furthermore, “Why did the storm take away those of pure-blood?” Greatest of all, a surreal hope, “Was this all that left of the Myrians? Here? In Taloba?” Rather than being filled with excitement, Saxani felt a rise in anxiety. There were so many possibilities, none of which she had the answers to. This scavenger hunt for tools and materials was turning into a quest for truth. “What was that which came from the north and killed these savages?” This question she actually posed aloud. Saxani looked to Salar and waited to see that he was finished. She didn’t expect an answer, in truth, but would humor one. He was there to listen, and right now she simply wanted to speak. It was a rehearsal for her report to the Queens. Saxani shifted back to her Dhani form and swallowed up the big cat in the interim of Salar’s final search. Afterwards it would be time to move on.

[Kara Sunderwater]

At least she's not bragging about her kills... Salar shrugged mentally. He really didn't like boisterous fools. They tended to exaggerate and puff up the truth. When that happened, the Jungle would lay them low. Often permanently. It was not a good idea to be around such people when that happened since the Jungle rarely discriminated so minutely in its wrath. In addition to hubris, such boasts were often made by those simply too stupid to know better. If they were stupid, they were also guaranteed to end up dead. Another reason to stay away from boisterous people, in Salar's reckoning. As he rummaged through their meager belongings, he found scraps of food. Rations, obviously, that they had been hoarding while they were on the watch for the blockade. He sniffed a piece of bread - stale but still edible. That went down his mouth without a thought. It was barely a morsel. What was more interesting were the strips of salted meats that they had. There were four. Salar picked those up and held them out, offering the choicest strips to Saxani. She was, after all, the female and the meat was her privilege to choose from. He may not like her much but he was not going to begrudge her the ability to produce offspring. He had not really been listening to her prattling since he doubted she really wanted his opinion. Salar was examining the fallen weapons for something that might be useful. Spear... no. The halberd was already a spear. And an axe. And a hook. The various knives they had looked interesting. But how to tell what would be useful and what was just decorative. Plus, how would he take it back? Oh, the Myrians were wearing belts. He could just tie one around him and stuff things on to it. Salar turned his attention back to Saxani, who still hadn't noticed he had been trying to offer food. But then she asked him a question. It was one that made him pause and glance back at the dead Myrians. "So the magic killed those of Myrian blood faster than those of mixed blood? Could it be a gift from Siku? I'm not going anywhere near Taloba to check to see if they're all dead. If we lived through the storm by being underground, maybe some of them survived by hiding in their above-ground caves?"

[Sashisaxani]

OOCI’ve been staring not knowing how to respond for a few days now. Here’s a response though. I know you like to come and go in waves. if you want, feel free to lead us into our next brawl or conflict. I was going to save a big fight for the end. I’ve been foreshadowing of it enough, so don’t spoil it for me! Saxani ignored the meat. Her mind was elsewhere, beyond scrapes and cuts, beyond mortal desires – all but one. The need to know what had happened was consuming her. She had the cat to take back with her anyway. She surely wasn’t going to lug the corpse around by hand. She wanted to move, soon and quickly. The Dhani’s mouth and throat began to expand, slightly so, as the joints prepared themselves. Saxani grabbed hold of the cat and began to shove it down, her jaws shifting side to side, sliding in and out as hook teeth dragged the cat down into her. She used her hands when it was almost half way in to pick it up and allow gravity to aid her. The half feline-half snake form in the shadow of the night looked like a monster itself. She consumed the cat, and returned to her things. “Ney, it did not kill them,” she said, examining the jungle around them, “It destroyed them. Perhaps removed them from time? Elsewhere…” The endless possibilities were too much to handle, and with such little evidence she dare not draw upon more conclusions. “Siku…” Her mind was suspended in conflict. She loved her Mother-Goddess dearly, but… “She is powerful, but I fear she did not do this. Siku, grace be to you, guide us to the truth. Would She have had the power to do this, we would not be where we are now. No? Yes. “I do believe the gods are at work, Salar, but not Siku.” Saxani peered into the twilight sky, the stars just revealing themselves through the hazy and thin lace of clouds. “I wonder if we should be seeing something, or hearing something. Signs? Omens? We should have consulted the elders before we ventured out so far. It is too late for us, Salar. We must complete this task as fate would have us, or disgrace Siku and Zinrah in our failure.” She turned to him, her face grave in its sternness. “As for Taloba,” she said in an elevated mock-Myrian tone, “We can only pray it lay in ruins. Come now, the hunt is still on. Recall how many savages guard the nest at night. Surely more are lingering like this. We cannot let them live, else we merely let their numbers cease to fall so dramatically this day.” Saxani turned to the call of a tiger roar. Her eyes darted through the jungle. She had had enough of cats. They were headed away from it, so all was well. “I need you to take the lead again. We will go north to the east tunnel, drop off what useful things we find by then, and then continue round. I want to check the entire realm of Zinrah before we stop this. I wish to sleep well tonight as any other. That will not be done with questions going unanswered…” Saxani snagged her bow and an arrow, ready to fire, more vigilant than ever before. The serpent’s head oscillated to and fro to scan the furthest reaches of her vision field. Nothing would catch her off guard, nor escape her all absorbing gaze. She took a sniff of the kills they had just acquired. It was unfortunate they were so weak. She stopped only briefly to cut into the Myrians and collect the ribs she wanted for her necklace. A kill was a kill, no less. Refocusing, she tried to collect a hint or wind of where these Myrians had come from. It lead them astray, north east, further from the nest, but she wanted to find the pure bloods, if such a chance existed. She’d track them until she found an end. “Take the front line. We follow their scent to their fellow soldiers. Kill anything not of the nest we find on the way. Anything. I dare no ask what Caiyha’s predators have evolved to after this unnatural storm.” She clamped her jaw down, a clap-bite echoing between the two. They could rest easily later. Meanwhile, her tongue slithered out to check they were on track. OOCFeel free to take us to the ash piles of dead pure bloods or anything that stops us on the way over. I think I'll introduce the finale by the time we reach the east tunnel. Sound good?

[Kara Sunderwater]

Since she had rejected his offer, Salar threw the meat down his mouth. It slid down his throat rather easily since they were so small. He didn't pay much attention to the taste since it was dried meat and, as a snake, taste wasn't high on his priority. The food did little to sate any hunger pangs he felt. Salar rated a whole rabbit to be a simple snack. Swallowing a few strips of dried meat was nothing. A quick rummage through their pockets also revealed a few coins, which Salar took. He checked the weapons and bits they carried. Useless weapons, he decided. Being of lesser breeding must have made them unqualified for the better weapons that pure-blooded Myrian warriors carried. Hefting his halberd, Salar silently took the lead in acknowledgment of the female's orders. "Maybe it was not Siku directly but surely she could have influenced an enemy of Myri. Or maybe it was that Fire God? Or would a storm be the realm of that Zulrav god I've heard about?" Salar speculated aloud to Saxani. Knowledge of the wider pantheon had not been his strong point. All he knew was that devotion to Siku was the most important. She protected the Dhani and particularly favored the Constrictors. She was their reason for life. After some time, Salar stopped them. He smelled burnt flesh. So burnt that it must have been scorched so thoroughly and at such extreme heat that he could not imagine it. What was that saying? Curiosity killed... something. Well, it definitely wasn't the snake. "Smell it?" he asked, leading them towards the scent. It was not long before they found the source of the charred smell. A clearing that had obviously been used as a camp was littered with black, dusty ashes. Tents stood empty save for the possessions of presumably deceased Myrian warriors. Clothes, tools, and weapons lay scattered amidst the burnt ash. A small fireplace that had once been in use, showed dying embers. "That fire is too small to have burnt so much of... whatever this is..." Salar stated the obvious. He looked to the female for direction. She was the brains of this operation.

[Sashisaxani]

Considerations outside of Siku were almost laughable. Who shared her goddess' hatred for the Myrians and their false god-queen? No fire god would kill men and leave the forest. No storm god would level mortals and leave a jungle untouched. Something strange was at works. It was beyond them, but Saxani would try to find the answer anyway. "Yes, they bury their dead this way, I believe. Else, I have smelled our own burned to such a degree." Perhaps your fire god did have some play in this. Tell me more of him. I know only Siku." Caiyha too, but that need not be said. Saxani had little to say. She began to survey the scene, her body slowed down by the cat inside her. She kept her bow and arrow at hand as she scouted the camp grounds and around it. Salar's eyes had started a hunt of their own. She'd let him go. She wanted to hear of what he had found. OOCPaint a picture.

[Kara Sunderwater]

Salar made a human-like shrug with shoulders. These were only stories he had learnt as a youngling. Meant to frighten him into obedience. Fire was always a bit of a blessing and a curse. It could be a great boon or a great misfortune. Fire could light a path or keep one warm and dry. Or it could destroy large swathes of jungle and burn creatures alive. "I think his name is Ivan or Ivar or Ivak or something like that. I was told that he caused a great fire long ago and that he still brings fire to the lands whenever he is wrathful. He was imprisoned by the other gods because he was too powerful. He was an enemy of them all because he could destroy them all. My mother would tell me and my siblings that if we disobeyed her, the Fire God would burn us alive because he doesn't like disobedient snakelings. So we never disobeyed her because we didn't want to be on fire. But that was when I was young and easy to scare. What part was truth and what part myth, I do not know. I am not a scholar or a priest. A fire god could certainly burn mortals with his immense power but I don't know, why he would spare the jungle? I have never heard of a fire that burns only mortals and skips over the trees and animals." Salar wandered, picking up things that might be interesting. A bone necklace of tiger fangs was half-buried in the ground. He took it. It would be a good thing to barter with. Coins he took from where-ever he could find them, stuffing them into a little bag he had picked up as well. Clothes were stacked in some of the tents. Myrian rags. But, perhaps, useful for any Dhani would transformed into human form and wanted to try to pretend to be human. But not a priority. As he slithered around, poking his serpentine head into tents to check their contents, Salar came across something which made him smile. Myrian weapons. If any Myrians had been here recently, they had left behind some of their weapons in haste. "Do we want to take some choice weapons back to the nest? The Myrians were kind enough to leave some presents." he asked the female. She was leading so she should have first pick. There was no way they could carry everything but if they brought a couple things back and let the others know where to find this stash, they could come back and plunder it more fully before the Myrians returned. Salar still had his reservations about Saxani but she had led them on a very profitable journey. So for now, he could forgive their earlier ... disagreements. All they needed now was dinner. Salar wondered if she was hiding a leg of tiger somewhere. Food, not just the simple scraps that the Myrians carried, real food like a boar or some chickens. He was hungry.

[Sashisaxani]

Saxani was beginning to change with a meal inside her, and she had no intention to share with Salar. Between some play, a meal, and story time, Saxani was beginning to wear. The roars of tigers were a sign to get back in the caves anyway. They could take one on, but there was bounty enough to be counted. They'd begin to overburden themselves. Perhaps in the later hours they'd come back for the cats before the Myrians resumed their posts. The blockade would be gone for a while, an opportunity the Dhani may only see once in a life time. Saxani felt the empowerment of her freedom, and a strange grandeur standing over the piles of ashes and corpses. A scent of blood was thick in the air, the mix of it, human, and Saxani was changed. She'd meditate this over his meal. Saxani would not go back to being trapped in her cave lightly. No, the world was changing. "Ivak," she recalled, "God of Fire. Perhaps he is a friend of Caiyha's?" Perhaps Salar wouldn't care for her deceit on such a trivial thing as names. "His tale is recounting inThe Valterrian, yes? I…I think I recall." Saxani shook such matters from her mind with Salar's suggestion. She had hoped to reign in a larger kill, but it seemed the lesser choice when it came to being wise. Others would come to do such work when she and Salar brought news of this harvest to the nest. "Scavenge what you will. We head back to Zinrah the way we came. It looks like most of their gear was laid here." Saxani broke off from Salar, about to sheath her bow when she felt the panting of a dying Myrian and drew close to the source. She saw a girl, her hair up, her skin sanguine, her life expiring rapidly. Even on the verge of death Saxani viewed a seething hatred from the dying warrior. "Vile snake beast, what has your evil mother done to us?" The words were Myrian, purely, and Saxani understood most of it. Saxani repeated the Myrian, her sibilant tongue slithering. "You mock me in dead. Perhaps this is Lhex's revenge, for all those of yours we've skinned and mounted on pikes. Hmm? Oh that upsets you, doesn't it?" The Myrian laughed, nearly heaving up what may have been a lung or blood. Saxani had little contempt for those so proud. The one mutual ground between Dhani and Myrians was death, such an unspeakable thing. Dira watched over them every day, Saxani knew, but she was mysterious in her ways as well. Saxani had enough of this one, and felt little pity for her. She was angered actually, by the Myrian's words alone. She thought to kill this spiteful creature, but something else stirred in her. "Siku, Mother-Goddess, child of Caiyha – master of Falyndar – hear me. I pray to you thanks for this bounty on which all Zinrah shall feast. I offer to you this sacrifice. I fear, Mother, what little blood she has left to offer you, so instead I hope you find pleasure in her suffering." Saxani's snaketongue prayed was met with disgust and wondering eyes. The Myrian was obvious curious. Saxani drew an arrow and moved the tip down the Myrian neck, only taunting to cut her throat on the lightly dulled arrow head. She passed it over the heart, the stomach, her leg, but moved it up again. The Myrian was utterly disgusted and confused with the Dhani. Saxani stared coldly as she jammed the arrow up the Myrian's crotch and jostled it around. The arrow nearly broke when Saxani ripped it out and jammed it into the Myrian's bloodied gut. There was screaming, moaning, and eventually silence. Saxani left the arrow and left to resume her scavenging. She looked for specific items, ones Salar even passed over. She wanted tools and resources. She looked for rations, maps, equipment, clothing – especially clothing, as dark ideas of deception formed in her mind – literature, orders, money, weapons, armor, idols, anything. She disassembled a tent if she could, to use as a sack, and perhaps to take and pawn off as well. Saxani wanted to take her treasures hope to appraise herself. Some things she hoped would be useful to her, or she'd pawn it off later. Salar could find his own dinner if he was as capable as he tried to impress earlier. She despised his arrogance as strong as he was. When both their arms were full, and pockets in either of their harnesses, Saxani led them back to Zinrah to do with as they pleased with their treasures. For once in many years, the Dhani of Zinrah roamed the jungles of Falyndar freely. They were given a moment to reflect on what was and what could be, and they would grow bold. The storm, the manifestation of a god's freedom in faraway lands, was actually a freedom of many beasts: creatures unknown to the world, some fearful, and others just dangerous. Zinrah, no, Falyndar as changed forever. The war in the south was just beginning. "I will devour her heart," said Saxani absent mindedly beside Salar as they processed into the nest. Killing Myrians would not be enough, she realized; Saxani would have to kill the Myrian. The War-Goddess-Queen would die. Their forms faded into the shadows of Zinrah's lair.