A Little Hunting to Break the Ice(Ulric)

[Ronin]

A Little Hunting to Break the Ice 45th of Spring AV 511 Ronin walked through the woods near the Sanikas river, bow in hand. It had not been long since the failed hunting trips had ended here in near-tragedy, and Ronin was still very vigilant. Every time he heard something rustle the leaves or break a twig, he would whip around to face the direction of the noise. Because of this, he was not hunting very effectively. His own jumpiness was scaring off anything that he would normally be shooting at. He tried desperately to calm his mind and still his shaking hands, but it was no use. Ronin was about ready to give up and go home when he heard another movement in the woods. Approaching slowly, Ronin walked toward where he had heard the sound. It was not like that of an animal creeping through the bushes. Rather, if sounded like someone walking. Could it be another hunter in the same area? Or maybe it was someone coming to visit Wind Reach who had gotten off the road and couldn't find their way back. Either way, Ronin wanted to find out more about whoever it was. Slowly, he walked toward where he had heard the sound. As he approached he came to a row a bushes and thick brush, enough that he couldn't walk through. Forced to go around, Ronin was worried that he might lose track of where the sound had come from. Also, he hadn't heard in again since the initial noise, so chance were that it had just been conjured up by his imagination and hyper-vigilance. Eventually, Ronin found his way back to where he thought he heard the noise come from. However, all he found was a foot print in the mud. As the winter snow melted it left the forest floor a muddy mess. It was dirty and sloppy, but it made tracking an animal or even a person much easier. Ronin drew an arrow from his quiver and placed it on his bowstring. He was now convinced that what he heard had been real, and he was determined to find out where the person had gone. He followed the set of tracks to a clearing where he stopped at the edge. Ronin saw nothing in the clearing, but he figured it was as good a place as any to stop and rest. He walked into the center of the small break in the trees and found a dry spot to sit. Ronin waited there for a few minutes. The long walk to the river and his hiking around in search of game had tired him out considerable. Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a small figure streak across the clearing. It came to a stop, jerk up, and flicked it's beady eyes around, looking for danger. When Ronin was finally able to make it out against the muddy background, he was able to see that it was a small rabbit. Finally he had seen something before it had seen him, and he wasn't about to let this opportunity slip away. Lifting his bow, with the arrow still on the string, he aimed at his target. It was about thirty yards off, and not an easy shot for someone of Ronin's poor skill, but he severely doubted he could get any closer without the rabbit seeing him. Ronin released a deep breath through his mouth and let loose the arrow from his bow. The arrow ripped through the air and buried itself in the ground beyond the rabbit. The rabbit took off like a flash, not even looking to see where his assailant had attacked from. Disappointed, Ronin slumped back down onto the ground and let out a heavy sigh. Today was just not his day.

[Ulric]

NoteThe Gasvik can only be seen/heard by Ulric or a Wind Eagle

“There are no bears here,” Ulric scowled at the Gasvik. “You said there would be bears here, but there aren’t. Where are the bears?” “Aewom wena ud okwe welm petching eoaedn not adna qomwda,” the Gasvik snarled back, poking Ulric in the chest. “Oslm wen petch wenad wome ewn wonadn dendl ein psdnfd.” “My fault? How is that my fault?” “Usak lwme won eeuand adim!” “Noisy? I am not noisy.” Snap. Even as he spoke, his heavy boot came down on a twig, sending the Gasvik into hysterics. “Shut up,” Ulric growled. He turned away, raising his heavy crossbow, and tried to focus on treading silently through the muck. It was harder than it seemed. The forest was thick with briars and patches of gorse, and heaps of melting snow still clung to the ground. He couldn’t even walk in a straight line, let alone do it silently. After a while, he resigned himself to being noisy. If the bears were spineless enough to flee from the din of his footsteps, then fine – he didn’t want to fight them anyway. What was readily apparent, however, was that neither he nor the Gasvik knew what they were doing. Ulric was able to spot a few animals tracks, mostly the cloven-hoofed scratches of foraging deer and the spoor of rodents, but he wasn’t able to determine which direction they were going, much less follow their sinuous tracks. The muck had a lot to do with that. He didn’t even know where bears went this time of year. Caves? Figures the one time I’m actually looking for a bear is when I can’t manage to find one. He scowled, raising his eyes to study the gnarled tree trunks. There were no claw marks, only moss. Halting for a few chimes, Ulric perched upon a lichen-encrusted boulder and began to wonder if this day was going to be a complete waste. He was not a hunter, but at the same time, he needed to taste the tang of blood on his lips, to see fear in the eyes of his victims. “Geaon aen qwlmon wubd aodn,” the Gasvik said idly. Ulric cocked his head. “Qwlmon?” He slid off the boulder. His boots sank into the muck, pulling free with a horrid squelch as he began to shamble to the river – or at least where he thought the river was. The forest looked the same to him, even though he’d passed among its dense ranks of firs and pines earlier in the spring. They all blended together. After a while, he heard the crackle of twigs, as if some a tiny, frenzied beast was heading right toward him. Raising his crossbow, he fired on instinct. The heavy quarrel whistled through the air, catching the unlucky rabbit in the face as it plunged from the undergrowth not twenty paces from where he stood. Its head was torn off, almost exploding in a welter of blood while its limp, mangled body somersaulted through the air like a rag doll. "Going somewhere?” Ulric began to chuckle, softly at first, and then louder, until his sides were shaking with mirth. Resting the crossbow on his shoulder, he strode to where the carcass had fallen and picked it up, feeling bones snap as he tightened his grip. He grinned, then flung it as hard as he could through the trees.

[Ronin]

Just moments after Ronin had fail spectacularly to hit an easy target, he heard some sort of maniacal laugher echoing from the woods nearby. Almost simultaneously, the rabbit Ronin had missed came flying back through the woods and into the clearing. Ronin took off sprinting in the direction of the noise and the flying rodent. He didn't even glance at the rabbit long enough to notice that it's head had been completely decimated. When he reached the tree line he had to slow down and begin weaving through the trees and over the ones that had fallen through the course of the winter. It was not hard to tell where the noise had come from as it had been loud enough to be heard from a mile away, but, as Ronin weaved through the woods, he was having a hard time remembering which direction he was headed. However, it did not take long to sweep the area, and eventually, he found the man who shot the rabbit. Unfortunately for Ronin, after sighting the man, he was not paying attention to the terrain. As he ran toward the fellow hunter, he noticed something striking. The man was not an Inarta, in fact, Ronin didn't know that he was a hunter at all. He tried to come to a stop abruptly, but failed spectacularly by catching his foot on a root buried under a mound of brush. Ronin tumbled forward, rolling against his control, and landed about ten yards from the strange man. Ronin tried to scramble for his bow, but on the ground he was in too awkward a position to do so. He settled for his knife, but he did not draw it from it's sheave. He simply left his right hand on the handle, hidden by his katinu, while he raise the other above his head. "Please sir, don't shoot." The crossbow in the man's hand was Ronin's greatest concern. If they fought hand to hand, though the odd would still be stacked against him, Ronin would at least have a chance. If the man decided to just shoot him and loot his body, there was nothing Ronin could do. Ronin decided there was no use sitting and waiting to be shot, so he started to explain what he was doing. "I am out here hunting. I saw the rabbit you shot, do you not want the meat?" Ronin struggled to think of anything worth saying so he quickly became quiet, waiting for the stranger to make a move.

[Ulric]

The cruel satisfaction only lasted a few moments. Where are the bears? Ulric frowned again. He didn’t hunt creatures that fled. No, he hunted the ones that fought back, that actually had a chance of surviving his wrath. Then he heard the crash of hurried footsteps through the forest. Not a bear, or a rabbit, but a man. Lowering the crossbow, he shoved a foot in the metal stirrup and reached down, taking a grip on the cord that stretched between its prods. He heaved it up over the catch, muscles straining as he spanned the powerful weapon. Reaching into the bag at his waist, he withdrew a quarrel and thrust it into the slot, then raised the weapon, seeking a target. His dark eyes scanned the trees, hearing but not seeing at first. Then he caught a flicker of motion. Instinctively, he pulled the trigger and the quarrel thrummed through the air, missing as the other man tripped over a fortuitous root and tumbled headlong down a small knoll. ”Lucky.” Faintly amused, he peered at the fallen hunter. The man didn’t seem at ease, particularly when he caught sight of the crossbow. “Why must they always call us ser?” Ulric spoke to the Gasvik. “They runs through the forest, making such a terrible ruckus, but then they calls us ser? It makes no sense.” “Aijea dam weom.” The Gasvik shrugged. Ulric returned his gaze to the hunter, speaking in thick, broken Vani. “Empty, see?” Ulric held up the crossbow. “No hunt men today. Maybe tomorrow. Today hunt bears.” Perhaps it was for the best that he hadn’t slain the man. The Endals wouldn’t believe it was a simple mishap, and there were bound to be consequences. Besides, seeing as Ovek had favored this hunter already, he might as well honor the pact. “We make decision,” he said after a pause. “You hunt, bring us to bears. Or chop. No more head.” He smiled as he stroked the blade of his bearded axe, lapsing back to common. “Do you understand?” Ulric wasn’t too pleased with the proposal, but it seemed like the best way of getting what he wanted. He wanted to hack a bear to pieces, and the hunter – well, he’d get to keep the meat and pelt, not to mention his head. There would also be the distinction of slaying a bear, and feat of which few men could boast. Ulric had already done so once before, but having nearly died in the desperate struggle, now bore a grudging respect for the beasts. They were worthy opponents. Rabbits were not.

[Ronin]

Even the sight of the empty crossbow didn't quell Ronin's fears. After all, the man had just shot at him. However, even without the crossbow, the man had him out-armed and out-positioned. Ronin slowly rose to his feet, provided that the man in front of his didn't try to kill him. He kept his hand on his knife, just in case. Ronin couldn't understand a word of Vani, so the stranger's broken attempt to communicate was completely wasted on Ronin. However, he was still able to understand that his life was being threaten as the man stroked his axe. Ronin knew that he would lose in direct confrontation, but running wasn't necessarily an option either. He had light gear then the other man, but that wasn't enough to convince Ronin that he could escape. That consideration ended quickly as the man began speaking in common. This wa a language Ronin could speak. "I am sorry, sir, I didn't understand what you said." Ronin replied in common. His common wasn't nearly as good as his Nari, but he could hold a conversation in it for the most part. He continued speaking in common, guessing that if the man could speak it, he would also understand Ronin. "I don't want any trouble, I was just out here hunting rabbits. It seems you are a pretty good shot." He tried to be complimentary to perhaps smooth things over after their rough beginning. It came to Ronin's mind that they were far enough apart that he could most likely draw an arrow and get off a shot before the other man was able to reach him with his axe. However, this would be a gamble since Ronin had no evidence that the strange wan't carrying some other range weapon, such as throwing daggers. He decided it would be best to wait it out and see if the man would repeat what he said in common. Maybe they could come to a friendly agreement.

[Ulric]

You fool, you spoke the wrong language. The whisper was back. Face contorting with rage, Ulric clenched his teeth, willing it to go away. “Go away,” he snarled. He was increasingly wary of the whispers. They kept echoing in his head, stealing into his every waking thought and resisting his efforts to crush them. There wasn't anything he could do, and this powerless annoyed him to no end. He was in control now. He would not suffer these whispers. “Iason adn weon oadp qwn.” The Gasvik tugged at his arm, speaking with a mollifying tone. The hunter was far from home, away from the prying eyes of the eagles, but they still couldn’t risk staining their hands with another murder. She might come back. Eventually, the corpse would be discovered and fingers would wag. “Yes, perhaps were should be more tactful.” Ulric cocked his head and peered at the hunter. His dark eyes glittered as he gave a mirthless grin. “Why hunt rabbits? They’re small. They don’t bite. They don’t have any meat on their bones.” He was aware that the hunter was taking his measure, wondering if he should reach for the bow or run if events took a turn for the worst. Like the Gasvik, the man tried to placate him, to prevent the shedding of blood. Go on, draw the knife, reach for an arrow – we long to pluck your eyes out and plug their sockets with severed fingers. He shivered as a tide of rapture crashed over him, the same ecstasy he’d been promised by Krysus. But he stayed his hand. The thing called Ulric would not serve. “We are hunting bears,” he said finally. “But where are bears found? They cower in their caves. Hiding from us, as they should. Have you ever slain a bear, hunter? The sensation of power takes your breath away, and then there is the meat, the pelt. Its people will eat well. It may gain prestige with the riders.” Ulric shambled closer, extending a large, callused hand. “Ovek has favored you once, and perhaps he will do it again. Come with us. Find us a bear, and let your knife drink its blood.” So you’re asking him to go deeper into the woods with a man that just tried to kill him? You don’t understand people. At least I’m not a weakling, a petching craven. We shall see about that, usurper. We shall see.

[Ronin]

Ronin was still unsure of how to approach the situation. The strange man walking through the woods with heavy weaponry, had tried to kill him once, but it now seemed that he was trying to be nonthreatening. However, when he barked the words 'go away' Ronin nearly jumped at the chance to run away. Still, there was something that rooted him in place. Perhaps it was the chilling grip of fear, or maybe a strange intrigue he had with the fellow. Either way, we hadn't moved from the same spot when the man continued speaking. They offer of a more tactful interaction was a welcome suggestion to Ronin, and he nodded his head politely in agreement with the statement. When Ulric began insulting the hunting of rabbits, Ronin's first instinct was to be offended. However, he knew from the man's appearance and dialect, that he was not from Wind Reach, and Ronin could not hold the cultural differences against him. Ronin still didn't see anything wrong with hunting rabbits, but he was all for something larger; a deer, perhaps. "What is it you would like to hunt?" Ronin asked, still speaking in common. He noticed that the man had eyed Ronin's hands, which most likely meant he realized that Ronin had been considering an escape plan. To try to seem more comfortable with the situation, he held his hands clearly in view and stood in a casual stance. 'Bears', bears where the one thing in the woods that really frightened Ronin. They hadn't always, but after the events of a couple weeks ago, he did not have any desire to have another run in with a bear. He would certainly not intentionally run into one. Ronin definitely thought this man underestimated the power of the mighty creatures, but the more he considered it, it did seem that the hunter was equipped for the occasion. Ronin wasn't about to lie to the man about his encounter with the bear and he began to explain. "I killed a bear about two weeks ago. It was no easy feat, and I do not think I am up to the challenge of doing it again. However, you have shone that you are a well equipped hunter, so I can assist you in finding one." Ronin held open his Katinu as he finished speaking. Inside, the scars across his shoulder from the fight with the bear were clearly visible. The wounds were still scabbed over and gruesome looking, but they were healed enough to no longer require a bandage. Once he was finished showing the man his scars, Ronin stepped forward and introduced himself. "I am Ronin. If you would like I can lead you to where you can find a bear." He reached out his hand and shook that of the other man in a hearty greeting. "And your name is?"

[Ulric]

Ulric sneered when he discerned the flash of fear in the hunter’s eyes. He wasn’t afraid of bears, unlike the whisperer, who’d been deathly afraid of the great beasts. Now he peered at this man’s scars, trying to gauge his mettle. If he’d truly slain a bear, and not just from afar, that made him worthy of a grudging respect. He was not as pitiful as the rest of these children. However, the warning fell upon deaf ears. “We have also tangled with bears,” Ulric nodded, with another quick glance at the scars. He wouldn’t be surprised if the hunter tried to flee when the situation took a turn for the worst, as it always did, but there wasn’t anything he could do about that. Instead, he thought back to his own experience. The exact memory eluded him, but he knew the struggle had taken place in a forest. He could feel the crossbow bucking in his arms, then a fiery, coruscating pain, followed by a desperate struggle. The whisperer had emerged triumphant. And so shall we. When the hunter reached for his hand, Ulric laughed wildly. “It touches us, precious, it touches us with warm hands.” He looked down, disbelieving. “We do not remember this custom.” He’s being friendly. Ulric tightened his grip, holding it a few moments before he allowed the hunter to withdraw his hand. “We are called Ulric. We are… grateful for your assistance,” he spoke hesitantly. Almost immediately after, he reached for another quarrel. Lowering his crossbow, he spanned it again and slipped the quarrel into the slot, then peered at the Gasvik. It was watching the hunter with a blend of caution and curiosity. Ulric might have tried to conceal its presence, but the eagles already knew. What difference did it make if he raised the hunter’s suspicions? “Desank, only intervene if you believe it necessary,” he ordered. For some reason, he wasn’t as malignantly inclined toward the hunter as before. Must be that gripping of hands, he scowled. He suspected that it had forged some sort of undesired bond, and that the whisperer would know the answer. But he wasn’t going to ask. The whisperer was trying to make him into a plaything. Raising the crossbow, Ulric regarded the hunter. “Lead on, favored of Ovek,” he raised an eyebrow, and forced his heavy boots into stride. He hadn’t intended to speak any further, but suddenly a question forced its way from his dry lips. “Tell me, what do you know about the eagles?”

[Ronin]

Another man how had fought bears and lived? Ronin was far more impressed by this now that he would have been a few weeks ago. He now had more than fear of the strange man who seemed to talk to the air and referred to himself as 'we'. The latter, Ronin assumed came from a lack of knowledge in common. After all, the man had started speaking in a language that was foreign to Ronin. He also had to consider the possibility that it was his Common that wasn't up to par, since he rarely got to use it in a place so full of one race. Ronin had always been cautious of foreigners, but this man was stranger than any he had met. He spoke in a strange way, he didn't understand ordinary customs, and constant use of the word 'we' was still nagging at Ronin. He decided it would be best to shrug off the oddities and try to be friends, instead of dwelling on them and possibly offending the man. "It is nice to make your acquaintance." Ronin tried to say, but his common failed him and the last word came out as 'friendly' instead. Ronin was oblivious to the mistake, but he was already concerned that his Common was not reliable, so any remark from the other man about his mistake would probably have him second guessing himself for the rest of the day. It would be so much easier if everyone spoke the same language, Ronin thought to himself. He was naively oblivious to the sheer number of people in the world. He had heard about a handful of other cities, but he never imagined them having more people that Wind Reach, despite the fact that his city was one of the smaller ones in the world. As Ronin started walking toward the Sanikas river, his mind began to race with thoughts of how he would handle another encounter with a bear. The first one had left him bleeding, far from home, and fighting for not only his own life but the life of his friend. The thought of having another run in with such a dangerous creature scared him, but this man looked like a capable hunter, and Ronin was not looking to disgrace himself by running away. However, his thoughts were quickly interrupted by a question from the other man. "The Wind Eagles?" Ronin paused until he was confident that those were the eagles the other man were speaking of. "They are amazing creatures. Have you seen them? The size of them is astounding and they are more intelligent than any other bird." He laughed quietly to himself. "Even more than most people, too." Ronin gave a more hearty laugh now, amused by his own joke. They continued walking a ways, but suddenly, Ronin came to a halt. There was a sound that came from about a hundred feet off into the woods. Ronin quickly drew an arrow and placed it on his bow string. He was unsure what it was exactly, but the footfall was too heavy to be a small creature and not heavy enough to be a bear. However, this left too things it could be, deer and wolves. The one would be fun to hunt, while the other could pose almost as much of a threat as the bears. "Did you hear that?" Ronin's eyes darted toward Ulric and back toward the direction from which he heard the sound.

[Ulric]

Ulric nodded, knowing that he had to scrape up as much information as he could about those who sought his death. Ronin only confirmed what he already knew, that the eagles were clever, and couldn’t be trusted. They were able to see Desank, after all. The reality was that stripped of his invisibility, the gasvik was more of a hindrance of a help. There were already targets painted on their backs. Ulric felt Desank’s constant, seething rage for the eagles, not merely because they could see, but because their ability to see was something so monstrous, so unnatural that his gasvik wanted to erase their very existence. “Yes, they are quite amazing,” Ulric smiled crookedly, thinking back to his encounter with Sira. Had the whisperer possessed any sense, he would have found a way to abduct her and extract the information he needed. But that weakness was gone now. He’d torn it asunder until finally, as the long winter came to an end, he asserted his dominance. They continued to walk, Ronin taking the lead, Ulric several paces on his left flank. He didn’t want to get tangled if either of them had to move quickly. The hunter seemed like a decent sort – this is, for a breed he hated so intensely. There were so many people to slay, yet if Xhyvas could be trusted, he had far longer than a single lifetime to wreak havoc upon the world. That is, if the godlings didn’t get to him first. Ulric’s eyes were constantly on the move, scanning every thicket and cluster of boulders that scattered across the forest. His paranoia was far too advanced for him to consider relying on another man’s senses and expertise. No, he preferred to see danger lurking everywhere, remaining in a state of hyperawareness that had ensured his survival for this long, at least. However, Ronin noticed the threat first. “Aye,” Ulric responded, his dark eyes glittering with excitement. He brought his crossbow to bear, watching the figure of a wolf appear through the press of trees. It was followed by others, the pack slowly assembling in the shape of a semi-circle, content to observe its prey before trying to bring them down. Ulric was fairly certain they were half-starved, and none too frightened of the bows leveled in their direction. “Forget about the bears,” he growled, trying to determine how they could even things up. For one thing, they had to use the terrain to their advantage. That was where the mounds of boulders came in. “Ronin, back away to those rocks,” he said, knowing that the hunter was not only lightly armed, but would probably be more effective with his quick-firing bow. “Get on top, and bring down as many as you can. We can keep them from swarming you if you protect our back.” Ulric didn’t think the wolves would attack until they were all hacked to pieces. No, they only needed to be bled sufficiently before the specter of likely death drove them away. He began to back up, casting a brief glance at the hunter. Right now, they needed to trust each other.