[Flashback] Of names lost

[Irriari]

[Flashback] Of names lost

Summer of 508 AV
OOCPlease note that Sunder was Irriari's given name before she adopted her current one. The purpose of this flashback is to explain what happened.

Sunder smiled as she tore into a piece of the Akalak her colony had slain earlier that night. The flesh of the blue warrior had changed from a beautiful blue to a charred black when roasted. It was a rare feast due to the difficulty of killing and securing a body of one of the children of Wysar. The Elders of her colony beamed proudly and congratulated the younger Zith who had slayed the Cerulean warrior earlier that evening.

The colony was truly alive tonight- and a charged, hectic air permeated the walls and lungs of all who entered the den. Loud battle cries echoed through the cavern and she was sure that, Fierce, the leader of those who had killed the Akalak, would find a mate tonight among the females. Her brother and sister had both been a part of the the hunting party and seemed quite pleased with the progress. After Fierce, each of the hunters had chosen which body parts they wanted to keep. The facial and hand bones were usually first to go, as they were great for crafting, though some people did choose stronger bones, like the femur, for hardier projects. The Elders smiled approvingly at her sister, Murder, who chose carefully among the remains to complete her own project. Murder's project involved recreating a whole skeleton from different parts of different victims. While it was very nontraditional, and as some critics said, useless, it was still a testament to the crafting ability some in her colony possessed.



For a few chimes, Sunder tried to examine the pictures in her newest book 'On Herbs and Plants'. The cover of the book had nearly disintegrated in a recent rain storm but the trader was adamant on the selling price-45 gm. While the book was out of print, from what the trader said, Sunder simply refused to pay such a price for damaged goods. So she had killed him. In truth the book was boring, and it seemed that very few 'rare' and elusive plants had any potential to be used for poison crafting at all. It was a pity, because that particular trader usually had good wares. The din in the main area had risen to an almost deafening jumble of screams, encouragements and challenges. Maybe Fierce would die tonight, she hoped. The petching idiot always seemed to think he was the best in the colony because he had killed the first Akalak out of all those in her age range. Sunder had laughed when she saw his 'prize'. The Akalak warrior was starved for reasons unknown and seemed to have had a broken leg. Something in the grasses must have decided to have a before dinner snack, and didn't even have the decency to finish their meat. Sunder had often wished that whatever it was would have. Fierce's cocky, arrogant swag had began that night, and it had never left. How many times had she laughed at him, unimpressed by his bravado?

The meal was almost over and as ended Sunder closed her book, resigned to a night of watching Fierce strut around like a boy who had just hit puberty. She considered calling him out on it. Had he truly landed the killing blow tonight, or was he simply taking the credit? Her brother and sister might confide in her later.

The nights festivities had begun, though the night was early, and the slaves all knew better than to get anywhere near the middle of the room where spontaneous fights, matings and all manner of other activities were bound to break lose at any moment. The air was thick with energy when Sunder noticed Fierce walking to her from across the room. He smiled lazily, and his wings spread open as he walked. Sunder glanced at Sevrai, her favorite slave, and she moved as expected. It was a stupid move, on Fierce's part, as she refused to be cornered or threatened.

Fierce's voice echoed in her head as he spoke:

“Sunder, you're my prize tonight. How about you spread those legs and show me how appreciative you are of me, for saving you from having to fight again?”

[Irriari]

Sunder stared at Fierce and resisted the urge to leap up and punch him in his cocky, hideous mouth. Frankly he wasn't worth the effort and she knew it would infuriate him to be ignored. The Elders all watched carefully, and she could see a few of them trying to anticipate both her actions and those of Fierce. She glanced down at the cover of the book and pretended to be scrutinizing the waterlogged spine. In fact, she had simply grabbed the spine tighter and held it at the ready in case she decided that it would look better as an adornment for Fierce's forehead. Books weren't traditional weapons, but she also knew that he wouldn't be expecting it either.

Within a few seconds he was standing above her, his wings outstretched to their full length and his face contorted in anger.

“Did you hear me bitch?”

His voice had risen to a yell, and a whiny one at that. Sunder glanced up at him and laughed before speaking.

“Am I expected to respond to vermin?”

Fierces' hands clenched and unclenched rapidly, and she could tell that he wanted to hit her. She begged Vayt that he would. Instead he reached down and grabbed her by the hair forcefully, and pulled her up.

“You don't have to say a petching thing, you just have to please me, though if you can't fight, I doubt you can do anything right.”

Sunder breathed in once and lashed out at him with her clawed hands while simultaneously dropping the book to the floor. Her left hand went to slice through his throat while the right tore at his abdomen. How she wished now that she had coated her nails in poison like she often did when she went outside the den. He would have been a sniveling, pathetic mess in under two chimes. Droplets of his blood sang through the air and she smiled as a few hit the cavern floor. If the bastard wanted her weak and compliant, he would have to take her when she was dead.

Fierce, momentarily stunned, reacted, and much harder than she expected, and Sunder could see the blood sight in his eyes. It was all or nothing, and Sunder knew that if she didn't beat him now he would leave nothing left of her for the slaves to fix by the end of the night. In an instant, he tackled her to the ground and began ripping and clawing at her chest, and alternated the lacerations with punches. Her vision swam every time he hit her, and she knew that if he punched her lungs too many more times, there would not be enough air in all of Cyphrus to help her. With Fierce on top of her, his eyes still glazed with the blood sight, she could do nothing to stop him and there was no way to get away.

“Fierce, please, stop. I... you can have me, please, just stop, I am yours.”

She offered her wrists to him, as a traditional sign of submission to the winner of a fight. He could rip the arteries out, or let her live. Slowly, the blood sight cleared, and he no longer rode the killing edge. Fierce rolled off the top of her, stood up and examined the wounds he had left, almost proudly. But the petching bastard realized a second too late how badly he had messed up. While he stood above her many things were accessible to her, primarily, what made him a man. She lunged towards him and ripped it all away. She had no compassion for him, and as he sank to his knees, clearly in shock, Sunder punched and smiled as she felt her fist make contact with the soft tissues of his face and neck.

“You truly are scum if you ever thought I would beg you for anything.”

[Irriari]

Sunder smiled, proud of what she now held in her hand. Fierce would no longer feel like such a man, now that his manhood had been stripped away so quickly and thoroughly. It would eat at him, that he had slipped up so badly, and Sunder hoped that he would become weaker because of it. At the least, no one of her den would seek to mate with him.

After a few more seconds of gloating, the quick surge of endorphins and adrenaline was gone, and the pain returned full force, edging out all traces of reality. Blood was still seeping from her stomach down onto the floor, and her lungs were begging her for air, that no matter how hard she tried, she could not breathe enough in. The center of the den was hazy at best and she tried to crawl out of the way, to the left, wincing as her stomach caught on the earth, dirt and fungi which only increased the burning pain. The rule about weaponry hardly mattered now. When Fierce recovered from the shock he was facing, he would be out to kill her, and no clever words would stop him. She had to reach her bow.

Sunder continued moving, gritting her teeth against the pain and haze that threatened to overtake her. If they did, she would pass out, and be at his mercy. She was almost close enough to reach her short bow that was propped up against the wall from earlier. As she crawled the last few feet to grab it, she heard Fierce scream, and fear flooded her body. His feet fell heavy onto the ground as her ran towards her and grabbed her by the hair, while her bow was only mere two inches from her grasp. He threw her back onto the dirt, away from her weapon, and she landed on her wings and shoulder with a sickening thud. Had her wing snapped, or was her shoulder simply in too much pain for her to comprehend?

She hissed at him, willing him away, but knowing that he would not run. The blood sight filled his eyes, thicker than before, and he walked slowly towards her while rubbing his injured neck. Fear was a tangible thing now, as sweat poured from her body she and shook, knowing that he had the upper hand.

Desperately, she tried crawling to her knees, and barely made it before Fierces clawed foot slashed at her face. It was a sloppy attack, probably due to the pain, and he hardly grazed her cheek. Finally, in this fight, something else had went right for her. She reached out, knowing that it would be too difficult to grab his leg, so instead, she attacked him with her own clawed hand, digging into his leg, and ripping at what she found there. Fierce screamed and the sound was one of pure agony and rage. Had she gotten his tendons in her wild swipe? The move nearly knocked her off balance- and it took more out of her than she had expected. Extending her arm forward put too much pressure on both her sore shoulder and her lungs. Her sight was filled with lines of greys, whites and blacks and Sunder nearly wretched as the nausea from the pain overtook her. She knew that she had little time. This would end, one way or another and it would be over soon.

Fierce had fallen again, and he was cradling his leg. Blood poured from the fresh would, and Sunder laughed when she saw it, and saw him, laying on the ground, clutching his wounded calf muscle like a small girl holding a rag doll. Had she not fought through the pain thus far? He was weak for giving her another opportunity, though at this point, she doubted that she would be in any position to capitalize on it.

“You're pathetic, you know? Any of our den would have had you, though, for the life of me I don't know why. Now you have nothing at all.”

He simply stared at her before trying to speak but he couldn't. Fierce braced himself with his left hand against the cavern floor and his whole body shook as he tried to stop the bleeding in his leg with his right. The cuts on her stomach weren't as deep, but she could feel herself fading. Each breath had become a struggle to not pass out. After a few chimes, Sunder lost the fight with her own body and fell onto the cavern floor as her vision went dark.

[Irriari]

When Sunder woke, the first thing her senses became aware of was the pain in her stomach, lungs, chest and shoulder. Beside her, the most loyal slave she owned, Sevrai, was standing watch over her bed with her favorite book from the surface and a glass of water. Sevrai knew not to disturb her or speak until she nodded or signaled her in some way. It was important to Sunder to have time to get her thoughts together.

The fight between her and Fierce was fragmented, though she clearly remembered him taunting her, slicing her open, and the moment when she ripped away his manhood. The remainder of the fight was even more blurry- probably due to the blood loss, or a variety of other factors. After pondering the fight for about ten more chimes, and reassuring herself that she was alive, Sunder looked at Sevrai and smiled before addressing the girl.

“What's been going on? How is he? Dead, I hope?”

Sevrai set her book on the ground and spoke,

“He isn't dead, but he's livid pissed and whining to anyone who will listen about how you can't fight, and only someone like you would take such cheap shots. The Elders have told him to shut his petching mouth though. Everyone's sick of hearing it. You've been out for 3 days, and he was out for a day and a half, once the healer fixed both of you up.”

She gestured at the bandages and continued speaking,

“The Elders want to talk to you, especially Ravage. I don't know what they'll say, but they wanted to come in here as soon as you woke, and sent me to get them when you did.”

Sunder nodded and sent Sevrai off to fetch the Elders. It had been three days of healing sleep, and based on the continuous pain every time she inhaled, it would take many more days of rest before she was remotely well. Sunder looked to the ground below her and saw her trophy- snatched off off of Fierces body- in a jar covered to the top with salt. It had to be Murder's doing, and she laughed at her sisters antics. Maybe she would gift it to her, as a way to complete the body she was making. Sunder certainly wanted no part of Fierce around her, no matter how satisfying it was. Or maybe she would gift it to Fierce, after it had been completely dried. She laughed at the thought, but stopped abruptly when Ravage, and another elder, Chaotic, walked through the door.

Sunder looked at them both and tried to gauge the conversation by their faces. The Elder's faces held no hints of the conversation to come, or even if they would kill her, which remained a very real possibility. Ravage spoke first,

“Fierce is alive, as I'm sure you know, though that hit to his calf was quite severe. It will take you both quite a long time to recover.”

Chaotic spoke next,

“The Elders don't blame you for what you did, however. Heal well, and you are forbidden to going to the Sea of Grass until you are completely healed and tested by either myself or Ravage.”

The Elders turned around and walked away, and Sevrai slipped back into the room a few minutes later. She seemed relieved to see that her Mistress was no worse for wear when she had left.

“Sevrai, I'm going to be bored. Why don't you read me a story about one of the surface cities you used to visit?”

[Irriari]

Sevrai nodded and walked to the book that had been placed on the ground. She picked it up and dusted off the dirt before opening it to a page and scanning it. Sunder had once heard her refer to this as some sort of table, but it had made little sense at the time. Most Zith never learned to read, and those that did hardly had any use for the skill, aside from writing down the battles each colony had fought in. She often wished that she could read, for the sake of deciphering the few books on poison that she owned, but it would be a long and difficult process- she was sure. Still, there was something wonderful and beautiful about the tiny squiggles on the page that translated into so many words.

Sevrai looked up at her, waiting, now that she had finally found the story she was searching for. She cleared her throat and began speaking:

“This is the story of Alanna and Irriari, the two warriors of the woods. Once upon a time, Alanna and Irriari, originally fair maidens of a city in the woods, decided that they would be just as strong and athletic as the men. Each year, the city in the woods held a tournament of sorts- that featured everything from eating contests, to displays of strength. Many of the residents of the city assured them that it was a male dominated contest- and at that time it was. 'Go and bake for the men, or practice for the ceremonial dance.' This was not to say that there were not contests for women, but they were few and far between, and even the highest placing women received little respect compared to their male counterparts. So that year, against all odds, Alanna and Irriari trained. They fought for their place among the men, and they had to train at night when all the best areas were empty. Alanna had decided to compete in the traditional event- it was composed of running, swimming and an obstacle course through the thickest part of the underbrush. Irriari decided to fight the other men in a test of strength, with a short blade, known as a kiveha. The men had trained for years, and had competed since they had been allowed by their parents. The girls, on the other hand, had only dreamed of such things. The men would not share their secrets, but most of the women of the city supported Alanna and Irriari. Finally, when the time of the competition came, the women proudly stood in the circle with the men. They were prepared and ready.”

Sunder interrupted Sevrai and spoke

“Couldn't they have simply killed the men?”

Sevrai laughed and shook her head

“You don't do that on the surface. This was a competition, not war. But anyways... They were ready to compete and disaster struck the city. Wild dire boars trampled through the competition green and threatened to trample the whole city. Suddenly, the warriors brandished their kiveha to fight, and to protect their beloved city. Alanna ran into the midst of the fray to aid the warriors as she could and Irriari- the first women fighter among the woodfolk did as well. After the boars were slain the whole city cheered not only the warriors on, but the women as well. From that day onward, the women and men trained together, and after a century the woodfolk were a fierce fighting race, like few had ever seen before.”

Sevrai smiled and closed her book. Sunder smiled, pleased with the short story and yawned before speaking. She would need to sleep soon. Her body was hurting more, but at least she would not be bored.

“Irrrrriaarrri.” Sunder toyed with the name and giggled before addressing Sevrai

“Humans have such odd names, you know? If they could pronounce my Zithanese name, it would be much simpler. But I tire of the name Sunder. When have I ever cleaved anything in two with my claws or a blade? It's an ill fitting name.”

Sunder was truly was a bad name. Though it was beautiful, she enjoyed the way the name of the human warrior girl and how it rolled off the tongue. Her colony would be shocked at first, but even a few of the Elder's had adopted other names over time. After her fight with Fierce, Sunder felt that something was different, that a part of her had changed. Maybe it had, and it was time to reflect that.

“Go tell the others that I will be known as Irriari, Sevrai. I need to sleep.”

Sunder drifted away, knowing that in a few weeks, most of the colony would be calling her by her new name.

[Cayenne]

What's in a name? Is a rose by any other name still a rose? Is a Zith by a human name still a Zith? Time will tell! Ahem. You go, girl. I hereby award the following: Observation: 1 XP Rhetoric: 1 XP Intimidation: 2 XP Unarmed Combat: 2 XP Manipulation: 2 XP Botany: 1 XP Lore: The Malleability of Bones for Crafting Lore: Basics of Zithian Anatomy Lore: Preying on the Lust of Male Ziths Lore: Sevrai's Story - Irriari and Alanna