Solo To the Isle of Stone

[Solemn Warborn]

Summer, the 15th, 516 AV To The Isle of Stone Solemn was up to his elbows in manure. It wasn’t glamorous by any means, but such things never bothered him. Though it wasn’t something he aimed to do on a daily basis, if there was a reason, he could do it. Today, there had been a reason. One of the stable hands had lost a beautifully decorated hairpin, one that had been a sign of affection from a young Vantha man she was courting, and she was certain she had lost it while mucking out one of two stalls. The wheelbarrow of manure Solemn was searching had been one of the ones she had used in one of the stalls in question. She was bent over the other one digging slowly through the top, nearly in tears over the loss of the token. It was no problem for Solemn to do this for her. The stable hands comprised a family of sorts, an ever changing one as marriages pulled them away one at a time, but those who lived at the White Elk Stables were a tight knit group. She was almost like a little sister to him. Almost. No one could replace his real sister Hiberna, though she was his big sister, not a little one. Solemn’s hand happened upon something near the bottom of the wheelbarrow, something solid, something manmade. Wrapping his hand around it, he pulled it up and inspected it. He had to wipe away a heavy layer of horse manure before he could positively identify it as the treasure they had been searching for. It was beautifully crafted with a small piece of icestone making up the better part of its decoration. Holding it high in the air like some victorious conqueror, he turned toward his friend and called out to her. “I found it.” Padrin Frostfawn stood there, staring at him with an eyebrow raised in question. “What are you doing, Sol?” Solemn didn’t get a chance to answer. Squealing, the owner of the hairpin ran past Padrin and threw her manure-covered arms around Solemn’s neck and planted a kiss on his cheek. “Solemn, you were sent by the Goddess. Thank you so much.” Returning the hug, Solemn made sure not to smear horse manure across his friend’s back. He handed the hairpin over. “Here it is. You should make sure it hasn’t begun to flake from all the warmth.” She snagged it from his hands quickly and began to rub it clean, sighing in satisfaction and relief when she realized it hadn’t been affected. “It’s good. Thanks again, Solemn.” She ran down the aisle to clean her treasure in the closest bucket of water she could find. Turning to Padrin, Solemn shrugged. “What brings you by, Padrin?” There was an amused look in Padrin’s eyes as he stared at Solemn, but his eyes never changed from their brilliant green color. They hadn’t changed since the death of his wife when his daughter Katrinaria was still just a baby. There was only one emotion he felt. Some thought it was anger or sadness at the loss of his wife. Solemn had a different theory, one that stemmed from his own experience. He thought it was love that Padrin felt. When Solemn’s bond with Hiberna had broken, it wasn’t rage or sorrow that he had felt most. No. It had been love and the desire to feel that love again. Though the two relationships were very different, Solemn imagined the bonds that held them together held a similar strength. Padrin shook his head. “Get yourself cleaned up, Sol. Then get a team and a sled. We’ve been asked to help transport icestone back from the Isle.” Padrin went to clap Solemn on the shoulder, saw the manure plastered on it, and stopped. “I’ll meet you outside when you have your team together.” “What about my work?” Padrin smiled. “I already asked Lusina to let you help us. Now go get your team.” Solemn ran to his quarters. No. That wasn’t right. Running wasn’t something Solemn did. Solemn made his way quickly to his quarters, pulled off his soiled shirt, threw on a new one, and put on the rest of his cold weather gear. Securing his shashka to his waist, he made his way to the portion of the Stables that housed the dogs. When he arrived, he found that one of the teams he was fond of was still in its pen, a sign that these dogs hadn’t been selected by any of the mushers headed out on this trip. Finding their harnesses in the storage between pens, he pulled them out and took them into the pen, careful not to let the dogs escape as he opened the door. Once inside, he called out loudly, “Sit.” Eight dog butts hit the floor obediently. Solemn glared at the one dog who hadn’t listened to the command, the beta of the group, Brut. The big Zypherian stood, his bushy tail wagging back and forth as he waited for Solemn to put their harnesses on. Having helped Padrin with this team’s training, he understood a little about this big dog’s mind set. Brut lived to run, and the dog knew that was what Solemn was going to take them to do. The excitement was too much, and that was why he wasn’t heeding any commands. When Solemn repeated the command, the dog just stared at him blankly. It was difficult to motivate a dog to do something when it was completely focused on something else, but Solemn had an idea of something that could work. Moving to each sitting dog, he placed their harnesses on them, tightening them appropriately and adjusting the lengths of various parts as needed to fit the dogs best. It was more complicated than it sounded. Too tight, and the dog wouldn’t be able to move its legs normally. Not to mention the loss of blood flow in the most extreme scenarios. Too loose, and the harness would rub, causing sores that would put a dog out of commission for weeks. Solemn was still learning the finer points but knew enough to get the harness close enough. Once he had all the sitting dogs harnessed, he made to leave, drawing a whine from Brut. Solemn looked at the big dog and shrugged. “You only get a harness if you obey.” He held Brut’s harness up. “Sit?” Brut’s butt hit the ground. “That’s what I thought.” Solemn put the harness on and led his team out to where a heavy sled packed with supplies was waiting for them.

[Solemn Warborn]

Once he arrived, he began setting up his team. The alpha dog of the group, another big Zypherian named Keld, was only trained to run in one position, and that was lead dog. Whenever he had been placed in another position, he started fights with the other dogs and slowed the entire team down. Unfortunately, Solemn knew that meant Keld would never be a good sled dog. Those that good mushers looked for were ones that could run multiple positions well. Even as good as he was as a lead dog, Keld would tire eventually, and the best way for a dog to recuperate was to drop back in the line. Taking the big beast, Solemn walked him to the front of the gang line and attached the single tug line there to the center of the dog’s harness. There was a loop at the center of the harness that the tug line could be tied to. The knot he used was a fairly simple one but one that held strong. It began with a loop. Then, the end of the line was wrapped around the line and ran back through the loop after which it was ran back down through the loop. That was only the first half of the knot, but all one had to do to complete the knot was follow the old line around again and pull tight. He did so and left Keld to get the next dogs hooked up. Next up were the swing dogs. These two dogs ran directly behind the lead dog and had the key purpose of keeping the team in proper alignment when going around turns. Their job was to swing the rest of the team wide as the lead dog made the turn. Selecting two of the dogs he knew to be more attentive, he put them in those two positions, securing them with another figure eight knot. The dogs in the center of the tea were aptly named the team dogs, and they gave the majority of the pulling power of the team. Solemn chose four, leaving the two largest dogs for the back pair, the wheel dogs. For navigating hills and starting from standstills, this pair was essential. In those times, the wheel dogs took the majority of the weight of the sled, so they had to be the most powerful of the group. Brut was one of these. As soon as the big dog was secured to the gang line, he began to bark in excitement, ready to run as soon as Solemn gave the command. Solemn, however, was far from ready to start. First, he had to make sure the supplies really were secure. They had been tied down by experienced mushers, but one thing Padrin had always emphasized was to double check others’ work if you were going to be the one running the team. The supplies were all wrapped into one large bundle by a heavy canvas tarp, and that had been secured to the sled by multiple straps. Two ran around the breadth of the sled while another two ran around its length and several more crisscrossed it. Tugging as firmly as he could on the supplies, he nodded in satisfaction as they didn’t budge a hairsbreadth from where they had been secured. The other mushers were much better at this than he was. Next, he had to make sure the sled was ready to move. In the frigid north, it wasn’t uncommon for the runners of the sled to become frozen to the ground. Standing behind the sled and grabbing the handle bar, he gave it a solid shove, but the sled remained where it had been. Leaning far to one side, he threw his weight in the opposite direction while his hands remained on the bar. There was a jarring of his shoulders as his arms reached their full extension, but the sound of cracking ice let him know he was making progress. Solemn repeated the process several times, working back and forth until the sled was free. The other mushers were already headed out, and Solemn waited for them to get some distance ahead before he set his team loose. Wrapping his hands around the handle bar, he spoke to the nine dogs. “Ready?” Brut stopped barking immediately, and all the dogs jumped up, ears pricked and ready for the next command. Solemn gave it to them, barking out the word so it was sharp and clear. “Hi.” The dogs burst forward, and Solemn did his part as musher to help start the sled by running behind it and pushing on the bar. He only lasted a few paces before the dogs were nearly dragging him off his feet and quickly jumped up on to the footboards. Running had never been his thing, so he had never been much assistance on starting. Keeping his eyes peeled for the other mushers, he soon spotted them ahead of him. It was likely his own team had already spotted the other dogs and would follow them given no further commands, but Solemn would make certain of it. The dogs ahead made a wide swing right. Waiting until they came to where several trails through the snow diverged, Solemn called out sharply, “Gee!” Keld did his part of lead dog magnificently and started on the turn, the team following after him in a graceful arc. It was well done, but it was a curve that could have been handled by a novice team with the greenest of mushers. Solemn would have to test his skill and the dogs’ against sharper turns than that before he could feel a swell of pride. His opportunity came more quickly than he expected. When the other mushers reached the Icewall Gates ahead of him, they made a sharp left turn as soon as they hit the wilderness outside. Solemn prepared his team to take the turn. Placing one foot on the drag board between the foot boards, he applied a small amount of pressure. This in turn added drag to the sled, slowing the dogs slightly as they approached the Gates. As they burst through into the unprotected lands of the Wastes, Solemn barked out, “Haw!” Keld did exactly as Solemn asked of him. The big lead dog whipped the team and sled in a tight turn to the left to follow the other sleds, but Solemn hadn’t slowed the sled enough. Even though Solemn leaned into the turn, the sled was going too fast. There was a moment where he was tightly connected to the snow below him, and then there was a moment where he was not. The sled toppled over toward the outside of the turn and dumped Solemn. He knew better than to hold on. If the sled toppled over on top of him, it could do serious injury, especially as packed as it was. He let go and tumbled away, bouncing over the snow that would have felt soft were it not for the speed he had been going at.

[Solemn Warborn]

The first thing Solemn did was finish tumbling across the surface of the snow. In Avanthal, it was so cold that at times the snow’s top was frozen as hard as stone. Today was one of those unfortunate days, and as he stopped rolling, Solemn already felt the bruises forming. The second thing he did was push himself up on his hands and knees and shout for his dogs to stop. “Woah! Woah!” Once he got his bearings, he realized the command was unneeded. His team was already stopped, Keld looking back over his shoulder at Solemn as if asking him why he had jumped off. Keld, ebing the good lead dog that he was, had felt the sudden change in weight and the increased drag from a sled no longer on its runners and had slowed and stopped the team of his own accord. Padrin pulled his team around and stopped as he pulled up next to Solemn who was still brushing the snow off of his parka. The Vantha laughed, his green eyes never changing color but betraying for one small instant his concern for the younger musher. “Are you alright, Sol?” Solemn was pretty sure he was but took a moment to account for every part of himself. Where he had tumbled, there were many small bruises forming, but at one point, he had rolled over the scabbard of his shashka. Where he had contacted with it, deep in his hip bone, a more painful bruise was starting. Standing gingerly to his feet, Solemn shook his head. “No, but I’ve had worse. I think my pride is wounded the most.” Padrin laughed, and the concern left his eyes. “That’s why it’s best not to have any at all. It’s perfectly reasonable for a novice musher to not be as quick as the more experienced ones, especially when he’s running a novice team, but I applaud you for making the effort. You’ll never get better if you don’t push yourself.” Solemn shrugged as he finished brushing himself off. “I’ll never get better if I’m spending the entire time face down in the snow.” Padrin laughed again but nodded. “I suppose there’s something to what you’re saying. It’s good to push yourself but you have to know your limits. Get back to your team. We still have to get to the Isle and back today.” Solemn quickly moved to walk back to his team as Padrin swung his own team back around. Now that he wasn’t moving with the speed of a thrown stone, Solemn didn’t skip over the surface any longer. Instead, with every step, he sank into the snow to his knee or mid-thigh. He didn’t have far to go, but wading through snow was not a rapid process. Eventually, he found better packed snow, where the trails for the dogs were, and found his feet didn’t sink in anymore. When he made it to his team, he had to struggle to flip his sled upright again. Squatting and gripping the low end of the handle bar, he pushed up with his legs, all the while contracting and pulling back with his shoulders. That mostly did the trick. At this point, the sled hung precariously between tipping upright and falling back over. Leaning backwards as far as he could, the force of his bodyweight was enough to tip the sled in the desired direction, though the effort landed him on his backside in the snow. Standing, he check the lashings over his cargo to ensure they were secure before he stepped to the back and grabbed the handle bar. “Ready?” The dogs immediately jumped into a straight line, wanting to run. Solemn started to push the sled and called out to the team, “Hi.” He already had the sled moving forward, and that had allowed slack to build up in the line. As the dogs drove forward in their harnesses and the line reached its end, the sled jerked forward, almost rapidly enough to pull the sled out of his hands. Only his sloth grip kept him attached to the sled, and he was forced to run several steps just so could jump back on to the footboards of the sled. Out ahead of him, the other mushers had started again, and Padrin’s team was the closest. As Solemn’s team built speed, they slowly cut the distance between themselves and Padrin until they were running about fifty yards behind. The path they followed was a gentle arc through the motionless, featureless landscape of the wastes that carried them toward the coast. Snow unending greeted the eye in every direction, especially once they were out away from the Icewall. Gently undulating, the land gave no evidence as to which direction was which, no landmarks to guide their way, but they had a guide and cartographer at the head of their caravan. Solemn had no clue what she saw, but their guide didn’t lead them astray. In a short time, they arrived at the coastline between two glowstone cairns that indicated the best departure and direction for reaching the Icestone Isle. None of the mushers slowed as they entered the frozen sea. There was no need. The transition was seamless from land to sea. The frozen ocean was nothing but ice, and the coast it ran into was buried under so much snow it appeared the same. Had it not been for the glowstones the transition would have been invisible. They crossed the water effortlessly. Running in a caravan provided little challenge as long as you weren’t in the lead. All Solemn had to worry about was maintaining an appropriate distance between himself and the team ahead of him. When they got too close, Solemn drew them in with a few gentle commands or by stepping on the drag board when commands didn’t work. If they fell behind, he offered encouragement and some assistance with a few helpful shoves off the back of the sled to pull some of its weight off the dogs for a moment. Before morning was over, the Isle came into view, and as they pulled into the camp at the mouth of the mine, he stood on the drag board and called out to the dogs, “Woah.” The miners all swarmed the caravan as they arrived. The Iceglaze miners worked long, hard shifts out on the Isle that kept them from home for weeks on end. Any news or gifts from the mainland were well received. Friendly greetings were shared all around as the miners helped the mushers unhook their teams.

[Solemn Warborn]

A young Iceglaze man came to help Solemn unload his sled. As Solemn’s hands dealt with the familiar knots that held his cargo firmly in place, the Iceglaze stood by ready to move the supplies to where they were needed. He struck up a conversation with Solemn. “So you’re a Frostfawn, eh?” “I live in the Hold, so yeah, I guess. At least as close as one can get.” “You ever make it into the Stables?” “Pretty much every day. I work and live there.” The Iceglaze man went silent for a bit, considering that while Solemn went to work on a particularly difficult and well-tied knot. Obviously the work of a veteran, the knot made several complicated twists and turns; it was an ingenious knot Solemn had never encountered before. Several attempts were made in vain to follow one strand of the knot to where it might exit the other side, but Solemn couldn’t decipher one from the other, and whatever progress he made was quickly undone by a mistake elsewhere. The Iceglaze man spoke up again. “You ever hang out with Karinassa Frostfawn?” Solemn made progress as he found a strand and pulled the free end of the rope through. “Karinassa? Yeah. I was with her just this morning.” “With her?” Solemn didn’t like the way that question sounded. Hidden within it was a veiled threat. Stopping what he was doing, he gave the man a long, hard look. While a certain small amount of rage burned beneath the surface at being threatened for no reason, it wasn’t enough to stir him to action. Solemn remained calm and cool. Starting something took too much effort. It was much easier to smooth things over and keep people happy. “Did you recently give her an icestone hairpin?” The man stiffened, and Solemn watched the Iceglaze’s hands curl into fists. “Yeah. Why?” That hadn’t had the effect Solemn was hoping for. Quickly, he calmed the man. “It was well-received.” The man relaxed a bit. Solemn went on. “She’s got a thing for you. And you’ll have no issue with me. I’m not interested. Don’t get me wrong. She’s beautiful, but I don’t think of her like that. She’s more like a little sister to me. She’s yours. Or you’re hers. I don’t think you could get rid of her even if you tried.” A smile and chuckle let Solemn know the man had relaxed completely. “Hahaha. Yeah, she’s a fiery one. Sorry to get all hostile, mate. Nobody’s made me feel that way about someone before. She’s special.” “No worries, friend.” Solemn held out his hand. “Solemn.” “Odd name, mate.” The Iceglaze took Solemn’s hand in both of his and shook it heartily. “I’m Goedrin. Shall we get this stuff in out of the weather.” The lightly falling snow was picking up. “Yeah. As soon as I can manage to get it free.” It took Solemn another half a bell before he unsecured the goods. Those were, in turn, gathered in four good-sized bundles. One of the other mushers had already taken care of Solemn’s team. Solemn and Goedrin each took two of the bundles. Mining was a tough business, and it had made Goedrin strong. Youth and strength on his side, Goedrin hefted his bundles easily. The task was a bit more difficult for Solemn. Work in the Stables built some muscle but not much. Throwing a loop from each bundle over either shoulder, he took a deep breath. Always lift with your legs. That was something his mother had taught him. On one knee, he planted the other foot beneath him. Breathing out, he pushed himself up forcefully on the planted foot while swinging the other underneath himself. It wasn’t graceful by any means, and he nearly tipped over. Goedrin’s firm hand against his shoulder prevented that from happening though. “Careful, mate. You have nothing to prove here. If you have to come back for the second one, there’s no shame in that.” Solemn was too stubborn to back down, to admit this task was close to too much to handle. By the time they made it to where the goods were to be stored, Solemn had broken a sweat which was no easy task for him. He hardly ever had any excess warmth to rid himself of, so sweating was not a regular occurrence. “I believe the other mushers are going to be here for a while, mate. You might as well make yourself useful while you’re here.” The man handed Solemn a pick axe. Solemn swung it at an imaginary wall a few times. The weight of it in his hands was familiar; much like the weight of the shashka, the weight of the head of the pick left the tool feeling unwieldy and out of control. There was joy in that feeling, a wild abandonment. It was the predatory nature his mother had so often spoken of. There were few times that Solemn ever felt this way. His nature was to be the prey. But there were times, those seldom few, when the violent instinct of his ancestors shown through. The Iceglaze miner led Solemn down into the tunnels lit by torches and glowstones, taking several turns here and there until Solemn was lost. Underground was no place for a sloth. He belonged in the trees where every direction offered a new path to be taken. Here, he was trapped by solid walls above and below and to most sides. But the deeper they traveled, the more Solemn noticed a pattern to the stones. They never took pathways that were headed by red or orange stones; he guessed these tunnels had long ago been mined dry had become too treacherous to use. Always, they took paths headed by blue or green stones. Green paths never had any work happening in them; they just seemed to connect one tunnel to another. It was the blue tunnels that had miners at works in them, and Solemn found himself part way down one of these when Goedrin finally stopped him. “There’ll be good, mate,” Goedrin said, pointing at a section of the wall. “I’ll leave you at it for a bit and come back to check on your progress a little later.” He started to leave, but Solemn stopped him. “I don’t know how to mine.” Goedrin laughed. “Just beat the tar out of that wall with your pick. You know what Icestone looks like, right? Good. Stop if you see some and let us know. We’ll handle it from there.” Goedrin walked away, whistling some merry tune. Solemn’s news about the young Frostfawn lady had put him in a good mood. Turning his focus on the wall of stone in front of him, Solemn swung the pickaxe around behind him, then swung it overhead with both hands to bring it crashing against the cold, gray stone. At least, he felt like he brought it crashing down, but the pick just bounced off the wall, leaving it apparently unscathed. Glaring at the surface, Solemn tightened his grip, drew the pick far behind him, and swung it viciously forward.