Timestamp: Early Fall, 494 AV
Location: Outside of Endrykas
Vanator: 20 years of age
Something had stampeded the zibri was all Vanator had heard. His cousin had awakened him frantically, insisting that they join the effort to round them all back up. The Ankal's heir roused from his pile of furs, drew on his pants and tugged on a tunic, stuffing his feet in his boots as he stumbled from his partition into the main chamber of the pavilion. No light filtered in from outside, only the glow of the dying hearth fire illuminated the room.
"Shyke, not even dawn yet." The young Drykas mumbled as he snagged his dagger belt and battle ax from a rack near the entrance. Vanator staggered outside, the few fires and torches doing little to cut through the pre-dawn fog. His cousin had already had a youngling strap a yvas to a Zavian mare for Van. His strider was down with an intestinal parasite that Ay’aka and Kavala were treating. Vanator vaulted into the yvas and joined his kinfolk as they rode beyond the city's perimeter to meet up with other clansmen, some bearing torches as they quickly gathered.
Van and a few other men were directed to one flank, and the horsemen veered off. Leth's white light diffused eerily through the fog, and the men extinguished their torches in favor of the moon's glow. The lowing of the cattle could be heard in the distance, and the riders turned towards the sound as the fire lights of Endrykas were swallowed behind them in the haze.
Suddenly, a throaty squawk split the air, and a number of glassbeak appeared, rushing from the blackness. Chaos ensued, horses screaming, men yelling, the sound of flesh tearing and hooves pounding. The Drykas were scattered in the dim madness, each seeking their own escape, weapons flailing as they tried to get away.
Vanator managed to cling to the rearing mare, bringing down the edge of his ax on a glassbeak that drew too close, a glancing blow that sheered part of its head away and sent it reeeling, screeching. The young Denusk urged the Zavian forwards, with no thought to direction, only away. The horse was no strider, could not tap into the Web as his fellow's mounts, could not out run a glassbeak should it choose to pursue. Such was Vanator's attention to his rearguard, ensuring he was not being followed, that he failed to note his own horses injuries. Too late, he realized the abnormal gait of the horse, and the animals shredded leg finally gave way. It toppled, its forelegs crumpling, her head driving into the ground. Vanator was flung forward, over the animal's head, where landed awkwardly on one leg before rolling in a flailing somersault and coming to a rest on his back in the tall grass.
The grassland became suddenly quiet, save for the huffing of the injured horse and the almost inaudible gasps of the Denusk as he tried to coax his lungs to suck in air again. Finally the breath the impact had taken returned. Vanator began to move each limb slowly, looking for damage. When he began to move his right leg, a sharp pains jolted through his body. The Drykas could not tell if it was broken, gashed or bruised, or exactly where the injury was. For the moment, he simply lay still, panting, hoping no predator could see or smell him.
Location: Outside of Endrykas
Vanator: 20 years of age
Something had stampeded the zibri was all Vanator had heard. His cousin had awakened him frantically, insisting that they join the effort to round them all back up. The Ankal's heir roused from his pile of furs, drew on his pants and tugged on a tunic, stuffing his feet in his boots as he stumbled from his partition into the main chamber of the pavilion. No light filtered in from outside, only the glow of the dying hearth fire illuminated the room.
"Shyke, not even dawn yet." The young Drykas mumbled as he snagged his dagger belt and battle ax from a rack near the entrance. Vanator staggered outside, the few fires and torches doing little to cut through the pre-dawn fog. His cousin had already had a youngling strap a yvas to a Zavian mare for Van. His strider was down with an intestinal parasite that Ay’aka and Kavala were treating. Vanator vaulted into the yvas and joined his kinfolk as they rode beyond the city's perimeter to meet up with other clansmen, some bearing torches as they quickly gathered.
Van and a few other men were directed to one flank, and the horsemen veered off. Leth's white light diffused eerily through the fog, and the men extinguished their torches in favor of the moon's glow. The lowing of the cattle could be heard in the distance, and the riders turned towards the sound as the fire lights of Endrykas were swallowed behind them in the haze.
Suddenly, a throaty squawk split the air, and a number of glassbeak appeared, rushing from the blackness. Chaos ensued, horses screaming, men yelling, the sound of flesh tearing and hooves pounding. The Drykas were scattered in the dim madness, each seeking their own escape, weapons flailing as they tried to get away.
Vanator managed to cling to the rearing mare, bringing down the edge of his ax on a glassbeak that drew too close, a glancing blow that sheered part of its head away and sent it reeeling, screeching. The young Denusk urged the Zavian forwards, with no thought to direction, only away. The horse was no strider, could not tap into the Web as his fellow's mounts, could not out run a glassbeak should it choose to pursue. Such was Vanator's attention to his rearguard, ensuring he was not being followed, that he failed to note his own horses injuries. Too late, he realized the abnormal gait of the horse, and the animals shredded leg finally gave way. It toppled, its forelegs crumpling, her head driving into the ground. Vanator was flung forward, over the animal's head, where landed awkwardly on one leg before rolling in a flailing somersault and coming to a rest on his back in the tall grass.
The grassland became suddenly quiet, save for the huffing of the injured horse and the almost inaudible gasps of the Denusk as he tried to coax his lungs to suck in air again. Finally the breath the impact had taken returned. Vanator began to move each limb slowly, looking for damage. When he began to move his right leg, a sharp pains jolted through his body. The Drykas could not tell if it was broken, gashed or bruised, or exactly where the injury was. For the moment, he simply lay still, panting, hoping no predator could see or smell him.