Kalmar stood before the northern shore of Kalgrun, gazing out over the vast sheet of ice which transitioned to the dark blue waters of the bay. Untold amounts of time passed as he stared, listening to the lap of the waves, the whistling of the wind, and watching the occasional iceberg drift past.
Then he began to walk; the snow crunching underneath his feet before he stepped onto the ice, which was sturdy enough to hold his weight.
There was a natural chill to this area, and here snow was possible almost year-round. No doubt this was due to the vast icey region even further north. It would be difficult for life to survive here, he reasoned - or at least difficult for most of the creatures that had been created elsewhere in the continent. Such creatures would need to be strong; capable of enduring the harsher winters and navigating through the snows. There was a harshness to this environment, but also a certain beauty, and Kalmar couldn't help but admire both.
He continued onward. The ice began to crack beneath his weight. The God looked down, frowned, and then the ice repaired itself. His walk took him all the way to the edge, where he knelt and glanced down at the water. He cupped some in his hands and splashed it against his face. Then, he stood, and turned his gaze back toward shore, at the long stretch of coastline.
This place could use more life, he decided. The continent would benefit from more diversity. So, he took flight, and went to work.
He flew west then north, following the edge of the bay. Beneath him, he conjured new life into existence, shaping forms from snow and ice before converting them to flesh.
To the sea he added sharks, narwhals, and orcas, as well as various species of fish for them to feed off of, and in turn other sea life that would support those fish.
For the land he created white-fured bears, foxes, and wolves, whose coats would better help hide them in the snow. He made small yet vicious creatures which would be known as wolverines. There were cold white snakes with blue rattles that dwelled in the mountains, using the snow as camouflage.
They would need prey, of course, so he created other animals - harp seals, walruses, penguins; creatures that could move in both land and sea. But there were also animals which would restrict themselves only to land; rabbits, moose, hares. He even made a species of white apes, with bodies suited to the cold, and created new local species of blue-leaved trees which thrived in the cold and produced frozen fruit.
Birds were needed too, so he made creatures such as puffins, snow owls, arctic terns, and others.
Then he remembered insects. Of course. So the ecosystem would include such suitable creatures. Bees, that were light blue and white instead of yellow and black. Ladybugs with white shells. Butterflies, with various shades of blue, white and black on their wings. And more. All of these creatures were cold to the touch, capable of surviving where their warmer counterparts could not.
Only when he reached the tip of the western end of the bay did he come to a stop. That was enough, he decided. The life would naturally spread to the rest of the coast if given sufficient time.
He glanced back behind him, where the created life was already beginning to adjust to its new snowy existence. A seal slipped into the sea, a polar bear left tracks in the snow, a bird soared overhead, and a whale broke through the ocean surface.
The God of the Hunt smiled at his work. He rather enjoyed the cold, he realized. Then he furrowed his brow as he realized something. There was no God of Cold. They had a God of Heat, but they did not have a God of Cold. That seemed wrong - a mistake, an oversight. One that needed to be corrected.
Kalmar was already the God of Hunting, yet he knew his domain could be expanded. The most direct way to resolve the missing God of Cold would be to become the God of Cold.
So he closed his eyes, and focused. The air around him grew even chilier; so cold that even the animals he just create would have shied away. So cold that the ice began to strengthen and expand further out to sea. Then it stopped, as he turned the aura off. "Kalmar: God of the Hunt and Lord of Winter," he spoke aloud.
It had a decent ring to it.
Kalmar is hanging around the Northern Bay of Kalgrun, and decides to spruce things up by adding a unique ecosystem. This ecosystem mainly consists of your typical northern animals - narwhals, orcas, polar bears, penguins, seals, and such, but he also introduces more supernatural features such as arctic monkeys, artic rattlesnakes, arctic insects, popsicle trees. Overall it is quite diverse.
Kalmar then decides: "Hey, cold weather is pretty nice," and proceeds to make himself the God of Cold.
Kalmar
Portfolios: Hunting
Starting MP: 7 Starting FP: 4
Expenses -2FP to create an arctic ecosystem in the northern bay of Kalgrun (+1 to Cold portfolio.) Includes mostly mundane species such as seals, polars bears, narwhals, penguins, etc. But also includes more fantastical things such as ice fruit trees and arctic monkeys. -5MP to claim the Cold portfolio. -1MP (discounted to 0 via the Cold portfolio) to grant Kalmar an Aura of Cold.
Portfolios in Progress -Fishing (5/5) -Endurance (1/5)
Remaining MP: 2 Remaining FP: 2
+1 from building a 2FP ecosystem in Kalmar's sphere. +3 from building a 3MP monument that controls the climates and biomes of Kalmar's sphere. +1 from building a 2FP ecosystem on the Northern coast of Kalgrun.
No doubt thanks to its creator, the lands of Kalgrun had a natural tension to them, Urhu hand naturally falling to her blade as if danger lurked in every undergrowth and shadow of forest. It didn’t help it was a lonely travel now that Seihdhara had left for her sphere, or that she had a sudden influx of feelings streaming from Li’Kalla’s soul shard causing her to be more jumpy at any sort of movement she noticed.
This caution would pay off when she accidentally managed to sneak up on a small pack of griffins resting on a clearing, usually the beasts would be already up and ready to combat if anything came close to the area they were in, but Urhu as a goddess was able to fully sneak up on simple animals.
She found them to be pretty and very elegant in their appearance, she wondered if it was Kalmar’s doing, which seemed likely, perhaps she should compliment him later, should she even find the god. Calmly, the goddess moved forward and started to brush one of the griffins in their neck, were feathers met fur.
The winged beast tensed, and looked as though it was about to lash out with a slap of its wing, but then relaxed. The other griffins turned and began to stare at Urhu with a mix of confusion and suspicion.
The goddess was no longer hiding her presence, on the contrary, she made the beasts recognised her for what she was. “Now now, I know this isn’t typically how you act.” she told the animal “But make an exception for me, I just want to know more about you and your species.”
As she said so, she started to gently peer into the mind of the animal, wishing to explore their instincts and memories.
A few tense seconds passed, and then the griffins returned to their business. One or two continued to watch, their expressions more curious than suspicious. As for the griffin Urhu was examining, its memories would reveal little of note - preening, building nests, flying around mountains, scanning forests for prey, ambushing animals, and carrying them back to the aforementioned nests.
One particular memory would stand out, however, and it was far more recent. A gigantic griffin, its feathers black instead of the usual brown, recently arrived in the area. On its back had been two forms, which Urhu might recognize from the Architect’s palace: Kalmar, the God of Hunting, and Melantha, the Goddess of Darkness. Melantha had jumped from the griffin and Kalmar had followed; the former screaming and the latter calm.
The griffin’s memories had not contained any insight as to what happened next, because this particular creature had decided not to investigate further.
“Well, that is quite some memory to have! Two gods arguing, the ground zero of this world’s creation, it seems I ended up meeting a traveled creature.” she said softly, laughing. But also questioning what the two gods she had seen were up to. “It seemed like you wanted to explore more but couldn’t, that is a shame, I understand you wanted to be cautious, but sometimes giving in to curiosity isn’t that bad!”
With that said, she patted the creature, and then it, as well as all other griffins in the location, shone brightly. By simply allowing the goddess to approach it instead of fighting her, the creature had gained Urhu’s favor.
First she wanted to give them the gift bodies more fit for travel, of course this was something she could do easily, but she wanted to go beyond that for these creatures, she wanted to give them the ability to cross the world, go higher and deeper than other creatures could. Of course, with such a blessing there were others that were inline, first, they needed to be able to better withstand the elements, or even better, but to adapt to each location, changing their fur and plumage as well as bodily architecture to fit them, then, of course, a blessing to the senses was in line, along with greater lifespans so these creatures could truly live to see the world in its entirety. It did not seem these creates reproduced quickly, yet the lifespan enhancement truly made it more moderate, as she felt creatures as noble looking as these should be a rare sight. Noble creatures such as these could also become the target of ambitions from her siblings, which is why the goddess also made them resistant to meddling and corruption by other gods, they should stay independent and free.
“Oh yes, if you even want to build nests in the many landmarks I have spread across the world, your species is welcome to. I can think of no better guardian for those lands.” she added.
With that, she let the creature go, seeing as it adapted to the sudden changes to it and its species. This trip had been interesting, but she had become curious about the sight she had seen, deciding to jump back to her flying ship and to leave to investigate it.
Urhu: Port enhanced 1FP : Urhu made the Griffins better travelers. Free Action: Able to build nests in any of Urhu’s landmarks. 1 FP: Enhance the Griffin lifespan greatly. 1 FP: To given them better senses. 2 FP: For enhanced adaptability. 1 FP: Resistance to corruption and meddling.
Recent History: House Greyjoy is one of the oldest and most prestigious of the Iron Island houses, styling themselves as Lord Reapers of Pyke. Their island is not the wealthiest, nor the largest, but they commanded a great deal of respect and influence among the other houses. When Harrenhall burned, the line of House Hoare ended, and the Conqueror descended on the Iron Islands with Blackfyre and Dragonfire. After Aegon subdued the leaderless ironborn, he allowed them to elect their own Lord Paramount, and they turned to House Greyjoy.
After that, the Iron Islands fell into a decline. The Ironborn no longer had the Riverlands to draw resources from, and Aegon had forbidden them from reaving mainland Westeros. If they wished to raid, they must do so either under the guise of freelance pirates, or by sailing to distant Essos. The newly elected Lord Paramount, Lord Vickon Greyjoy, even allowed septons to come to the Iron Islands; angering the Drowned Men.
Naturally, there have been some attempts to revive the Old Way. In 37 AC, the Priest King Lodos the Twice-Drowned, who claimed to be the Son of the Drowned God, rose in rebellion against Aegon's son, King Aenys. Vickon Greyjoy sent his head to King's Landing, preserved in a jar, and as a reward Aenys offered him any boon he wished. To regain the respect and loyalty of his vassals and the Drowned Men, Lord Vickon chose to expel all Septons and Septas from the Iron Isles.
The Iron Islands tend to keep away from the politics of the Iron Throne.
Name: Dalton Greyjoy Age: 15 Appearance:
Biography: Dalton as a child was young, strong, and wild. Following his uncle to sea, the boy had been rowing since the age of five and reaving since the age of ten; he grew up on the waves. They sailed throughout Essos, plundering and pillaging as they pleased, mainly around the Basilisk Isles, but at one point they went as far as Old Ghis. Dalton himself fought in over a dozen battles, and claimed four salt wives.
Dalton is ruthless and bloodthirsty to the extreme, but beneath that there is also a deep cunning. Some may think him mad or rash, and they wouldn't be wrong, but he is no idiot. On the contrary, he can be very cunning and shrewd when he puts his mind to it. Ironborn to the core, he has earned the love, respect, and loyalty of those he sails with. He also has a deep belief in the Drowned God.
During one fateful raid, Dalton saw his beloved uncle get cut down in heavy fighting by a corsair who wielded a Valyrian Steel Sword. The Young Greyjoy flew into a rage, and charged into the midst of the battle along. He avenged his uncle by slaying the corsair, and emerged from the fight covered in red and bleeding from a dozen wounds, Valyrian blade in hand. He dubbed the sword "Nightfall", while his men called him "The Red Kraken."
Not too long after, he received word that his father had died. It is now time to return home and claim the Seastone Chair.
I would like to propose that @Kingfisher's character is Dalton's cousin, daughter of the uncle that he went reaving with. Maybe, on his way back to Westeros, he can stop by Meereen and inform her of his death, then invite her back to the Iron Islands?
As Kalmar ascended the mountain, the cave soon came within sight, and to his surprise, Melantha had taken the liberty of stepping outside of it after all. He held one hand up in a wave, to indicate his approach. "Melantha," he greeted her, coming to a stop before her.
Just as Melantha was wondering where Kalmar was as if on cue, his voice entered her ears. She brought her head back down and looked at the direction the voice came from and lo and behold, there he was. "Kalmar!" Melantha greeted back. "Took your sweet time with that meeting, didn’t you?"
"Whoever I sensed had already moved on," Kalmar answered her. "So I took the time time to add some life to the nearby rivers. Then I made this," he held out a small wooden carving. "I don’t know why. Here."
"Oh? For me?" Melantha stifled a giggle and accepted the offering with both her hands, bringing it closer to her face to see what it was. Hmm, feathers, talons… Some kind of bird… wait a minute...
Then a sudden realization dawned on her that made her eyes light up. Without saying anything to Kalmar, Melantha immediately ran back inside the cave to the spot of one of her better drawings. She had felt especially fond of that one and spent quite some time drawing all the little details on it based on what she remembered. She placed the wooden carving next to her drawing and stood back to observe. Would you look at that...
Kalmar followed her inside the cave and examined her drawing. "Hmm… I noticed that these creatures were active at night, so I thought of you. I didn’t know you had the same idea…"
"Of course you didn’t or else I would have to start worrying… Melantha joked, a laugh escaping her lips. "But thanks for the gesture, she told him with a smile.
Kalmar found himself smiling back. "They’re owls," he informed her.
"Owls huh? With that she turned her head back to the drawing and the carving, staring at them in silence. "Remember when you created Shynir? She asked him out of the blue.
"It was only last night, so I hope I do," Kalmar spoke with unusual sarcasm.
Melantha’s shapely lips twisted into a grin. "Hey, look who’s being cheeky. It has only been a few hours since you were being all grumpy and sad." She teased back before returning on topic. "Anyway, do you think you can teach me how to do that? You did say I am a deity after all…"
"I can and I will," Kalmar promised her. "But there are still some basics you need to learn first, like flying."
Melantha’s face instantly shifted from inquisitive to sullen, the mentioning of flying reminding her once more about her failure. "Yeah, I guess I do need to learn that, don’t I? Silly me…" Melantha half-muttered as she turned her back to Kalmar in an attempt to cover her frustration at his words.
Kalmar put a hand on her shoulder. "You will learn," he assured her with a firm voice.
Melantha tensed for a moment at his touch before relaxing. Her hair brushed over as she turned her head to look at him, her eyes warm with appreciation for his support. From what she had seen, Kalmar was not one to make such a gesture often. "Thanks," she simply said.
Kalmar only nodded, looking into her eyes for a few seconds longer before turning back to the drawing. "There is something else you must know…" he added, his tone reluctant.
Something else?
Melantha turned around to face him once more, her previous inquisitive expression returning as she wondered what he was going to say. "What is it?
"As I said, whatever god passed through this area had already moved on by the time I began my search. I decided to use this opportunity to contact a different god. Katharsos, the God of Death. I only wanted to find out more about him and what his intentions were, but it turns out that he had met you before you lost your memory." Kalmar revealed.
Silence followed Kalmar’s words, leaving Melantha some time for the information to sink in. It didn’t take much, however, for her to put two and two together and understand the underlying meaning behind his words: He had information about her lost memories. Immediately the air surrounding them got a little heavier as Melantha’s eyes homed in on Kalmar. After mentally preparing herself for whatever was to come, one simple word came out of her mouth. "And?
Kalmar was almost taken aback by her sudden shift in expression, but he answered the one-word question nonetheless. "You came to him to learn how to erase a soul’s memories. He taught you how to do it, and you left. Whatever erased your memories, he said it was likely your own doing."
Kalmar’s words were blunt and to the point, not easing into it one bit. The revelation hit her hard, the shock from it enough to make her take a few steps back. Me? I did this to myself? "But why would I ever do that? This doesn’t make sense..."
And then the throbbing started. Deep inside her head, right behind her eyes, an all too familiar sound started creeping up on her. Melantha let out a small moan of pain as she clutched the left side of her head with her hand. She turned to look at Kalmar only to see a blurry blotch covering half of her view. Oh no, not again…
Kalmar recognized what was happening, and this time he was somewhat more prepared. He stepped forward, putting his arms around her to steady her and prevent her from falling. "Stay calm," he said, "Clear your mind," he advised, unsure if that would actually help.
"Clear my mind?! How?! I-" pain shot right through her, drowning out whatever she was trying to say. Her breathing quickly grew shallow and irregular, and she felt as if she was tied down by something, constricting and making it extremely hard for her to regain her composure.
"Focus on me," Kalmar suggested instead. "Focus on the sound of my voice. You are going to be okay. It’s going to be fine. Stay calm." He repeated the last three phrases over and over again in an attempt to make her focus on something in an attempt to stop her mind from trying to recall memories that were clearly not there.
And for the most part, it worked, surprisingly. Melantha followed along with Kalmar as he talked to her, repeating after him in a hushed voice. After a few moments, the pain subsided and she was able to stand on her own feet once again.
"It’s okay… I am fine now… I think," she told Kalmar while rubbing at her temples. She shook off his arms and wobbled near the wall before leaning against it and sliding down with a plop, sitting on the rocky cave floor once again. She brought her legs up, hugging them and burying her face in between her knees, trying to process what Kalmar had told her.
"I did this? She finally uttered, stunned.
Kalmar nodded, and sat down beside her. "That’s what Katharsos said. He could have been lying, or mistaken, but I don’t see why."
"Would he have any reason to lie?"
Kalmar shrugged. "If he was actually the one who erased your memories, instead of you, then maybe. But there’s no reason to assume that."
Melantha shuffled through her hair and groaned, frustration and confusion filling her mind with all kinds of thoughts. "Do you believe him? She said after some deliberation as she raised her head and looked at him straight in the eyes.
"Until we find out more information, I do." Kalmar answered, meeting her gaze.
After a few tense moments, Melantha let out a sigh and buried her head back between her knees. "Fine then, I’m going to trust your instinct on this one, she told him. But I am going to have a talk with Katharsos at some point, that’s for certain…
Kalmar nodded, and the two of them fell into a long silence, which was only broken when Kalmar rose to his feet. "I’m going to start making the clothes," he told her. "I’ll give you some time alone to think."
With those words, he stepped over to the wolf corpses, lifted them, and carried them outside.
Melantha watched him as he walked out of the cave silently. She didn’t really know what to think about his revelation. Her mind was jumbled with all sorts of feelings and thoughts that she never in a million years expected to have to deal with.
Nevertheless, one question rose above all else, and it was a simple ‘why?’ All she wanted now was an opportunity to ask her previous self exactly why she would do such a thing? What could possibly force her to a situation she felt she had no option other than to erase her own memories in order to escape from? And even then, would she be able to handle the truth once she found out what it was?Melantha opened her eyes to the whistling of wind passing by her ears. An endless sea of white clouds expanded in all directions around her, reaching way beyond the horizon. The sky, light blue with just a tinge of orange, courtesy of the setting sun, blended with the clouds below to form a picturesque scenery that could very well instill a sense of calmness and wholeness to anyone that witnessed it. She stared at the horizon, aptly mesmerized by the simple beauty of what she was seeing.
But then she realized that she was falling. Once again she was plummeting rapidly through the air and towards the ground. Flashbacks of her previous free fall flooded her mind as terror quickly overtook her, and she started screaming once again. She screamed for quite some time, at first pleading for rescue to anyone and anything, only to come up with nothing. There was nobody there to help her, no one but the wind and herself.
Eventually, her pleas turned to random, incoherent shouting which too, soon enough, faded out of existence, mainly because she had somehow managed to shout her voice off. Just as she struggled to reign in her emotions that were all over the place, something peculiar caught her eye. The sea of clouds below was not actually approaching her, even though she was falling towards it. Fear and apprehension turned to curiosity as Melantha wondered what exactly was at play.
However, things were happening too fast for her mind to properly process. From beneath the clouds she witnessed something extraordinary emerge: a gigantic, yellow creature the size of Shinyr soared upwards and towards her falling form, with what seemed to be more of its kind following right behind it. They had no limbs or anything, just consisting of a long, cylindrical body covered in what seemed to be bushy, blond fur.
And they were fast. The two ends of their bodies seemed to function just like a bird’s wings in regards to creating lift, and the sheer size of them allowed for some extreme upwards motion. It hadn’t even been minutes since their appearance and they had all reached Melantha’s location.
They all flew in a circle around her, somehow keeping up with her falling speed and making it seem like they were floating in mid-air. For a few tense moments, the hairy creatures remained as they were, facing her. What were they doing? Watching her? Could they even see her? Those were some thoughts that passed through her mind at that time, but she didn’t get to voice them due to the fact that something even more bizarre happened.
With a flap of its wings, one of the giant, hairy creatures started moving towards her. The turbulence in the airflow created by its wings struck Melantha and would have blown her away if it weren’t for three more of the creatures coming from all other directions, flapping their wings just like the first one and creating a counterflow, helping her stabilize once more.
As she was busy recovering from the shock, Melantha failed to notice that the flying creatures kept moving towards her even after helping her. In a flash, the four appeared right next to her, surrounding her in mid-air. Then, as if straight out of some twisted pit of horrors, sharp incisions appeared all around their bodies that suddenly opened wide to reveal rows upon rows of sharp, pointy teeth. One big eye appeared in the centers of all the creatures’ bodies which immediately homed in on Melantha. Without even giving her a chance to react, the creatures jumped at her, drowning her in a sea of hair and teeth…
Suddenly, Melantha shook and sat up, wide-eyed and hyperventilating. Panicking, she started punching the empty air in front of her with her hands and kicking with her feet in an attempt to fend off an imaginary enemy but soon realized nothing was actually attacking her in the first place. After taking some time to calm down, she wiped the sweat off her forehead, stood up and walked just outside the cave in order to get some fresh air, all the while wondering in her mind “What in the world have I just experienced?”
“Those creatures felt so real… and I was falling, yet not actually falling either. So weird…”Ouch, she winced in pain and rubbed her cheek where she had pinched herself in an attempt to verify if what she was experiencing at that moment was real and not something similar to that… illusion.
And yet, Melantha could not help but feel bitter at the thought that she was not even able to fight off imaginary enemies. Thinking back at those ‘creatures’, they were nothing but a bunch of hair with eyes and mouths, and yet she was powerless to resist them. Was she always going to be like that? “Do I deserve this?” She brought her hands to her face as she felt her eyes start to well up.
“Huh, tears? N-Again? It’s no-Are you really going to cry, Melantha? But… Is this what you are?NO!”
Melantha snapped her eyes open at the sudden thump and resulting rustling noise of rocks falling on the ground. She followed her arm and hand, which had gone from resting on her face to having smashed the rocky face of the mountain cave’s entrance. She slowly extricated her hand from the hole it had formed and looked at the imprint it had left behind in stunned silence. Then a smile slowly crept up her face along with a faint giggle that soon turned to full-blown laughter.
Guess Kalmar was telling the truth, after all… Wiping away tears of joy with the back of her hand, she looked up towards the sky. The sun had long set by now, the day having given way to night. The Lustrous Garden slowly streaked across the starry sky, the flickering stars in the background completing a breathtaking image that imprinted itself in Melantha’s mind.
Scanning the immediate area around the cave entrance, Melantha realized that Kalmar was nowhere to be seen. “Hmm, he’s probably gone deeper into the forest, which means...”
With a spark in her eyes and a grin on her face, Melantha looked up at the mountain behind her. The cave was situated roughly at the middle of it, so there was a lot more of the mountain to explore. With that thought in mind, she set off, the determination in her step pushing her to prove to herself that she was more than what she previously thought she was.It had not been difficult to make the clothes. It was a simple process of cutting the skin from the wolves, washing away the blood, and using his powers to alter it into a more durable and workable state. From the dark fur, which he made to be thick and firm but also flexible, he made a vest, with another band of looser fur wrapped around the waist that would function as a belt. A pair of vambraces were created as well.
As for the brown fur, he stripped the hair away from it so that it was only skin, and then made that into a pair of pants. He considered what to do about footwear; would she be content with footwraps, like what he wore? Then he had an idea. He created something without using any of the slain wolves, and instead from thin air - a pair of knee-high leather boots, that became sandals once they reached the foot itself. He enchanted them so that the wearer would leave no footprints.
Kalmar considered what else to make. He recalled that Melantha had disliked the sun, so he glanced down at the wolf carcass that was still unused, and he realized it was almost the exact same color and tone as the direwolf cloak. So he fashioned it into a hood, with the intention of attaching it to the cloak itself once he rejoined her.
There was one more thing he wanted to make. He broke a branch from a nearby tree, turned its color to a dark grey, and shaped it into a bow, a white string materializing. Then he poured a small amount of power into it. He pulled the string back, and a black arrow made from energy appeared from thin air. He took aim at a tree, shifted his aim to the right of said tree, but still thought of the tree as his target, and then loosed. The arrow turned in mid-air and struck the tree in the dead center. A moment later, the arrow vanished into nothingness, but its mark was still there.
All of this would be sufficient. He folded up the clothes, put the second bow over his shoulder and the amulet around his own neck. Then he picked up the boots and began making his way back, only to stop and look back at the wolf corpses which had been skinned yet remained uneaten. He would make a detour, he decided, to tell some griffins or perhaps a bear where these wolves were located. At least then they would not go waste.
Only after that would he head back.Higher up the mountain, bushes replaced most of the trees as the dominant flora. Tiny rocks and gravel lined up the craggy mountain path that she followed, Melantha doubting in her mind if anyone would even call it a ‘path’ considering it was so difficult to traverse. Nevertheless, she found that it was the only feasible way to go up the mountain and as such decided to trek up and see where it would lead her.
Soon enough, however, even the so-called path came to an end, and what an end it was. Melantha peeked over the edge of the cliff in front of her only to see a drop so large it made her take a few steps back in surprise. “That’s… a long, long way down,” she thought to herself, but then remembered that she had seen bigger drops than the one in front of her. A memory of Kalmar urging her to jump off of Shynir’s back flashed through her mind, quickly followed by the memory of her failure to fly that made her grit her teeth in frustration.
“No, that is not me. I can be better, will be better. I promised so to him, and he assured me that I was capable of flight. I can do this…”
Trying her best to reign in her fears, Melantha slowly walked once again towards the edge of the cliff, stopping just inches away from it. Her eyes immediately followed the drop and a sense of vertigo overtook her for a moment, causing her to whip her head back and let out a groan. “Whoa, okay. Let’s relax for once. Maybe breathe? It helped with the headaches…”
Taking in a deep breath in, Melantha closed her eyes and emptied out her mind before letting herself slowly lean forward. When she opened her eyes up once again, she was free falling down the cliffside, This time, however, she did not panic. Without an inkling of a second failure in her mind, she wholly focused herself on one thing only, flight. As she saw the ground rapidly approaching her, she shouted at the top of her lungs, her voice carrying her resolve to succeed. Suddenly, a loud snap echoed through her mind and Melantha felt a flood of energy wash over her, energy she somehow instinctively knew she could control. She poured her will into the flow of energy as she continued to focus on flying in her mind and as if acquiescing, the energy bloomed outwards, counteracting and decelerating her fall. Within a few seconds, she was hovering there in mid-air with an incredulous look on her face.
“I-I did it!” Melantha exclaimed with a shocked look on her face. Although invisible, Melantha could feel the energy course within and outside, mysteriously acting upon the world to transform her wish of flight from a mere thought to a reality.
She let herself hover as she were for a few moments, relishing the feeling of success, before moving to test the newfound power further. Surprisingly, once she got the hang of it, flying became as natural to her as walking was. Testing the proverbial waters at first, she started with simple back, forth, up and down movements, her path through the air wobbly at times but soon enough stabilizing. Like this, she began flying about in the air, all the while the grin on her face getting wider and wider the more she accelerated.
However, things don’t always go as expected. High on success as she were, she failed to notice the griffin that had been stalking her from afar, its eagle eyes tracking her flight path and observing her behavior. Small in size as she was, she looked like the perfect little meal for it. It spread its wings and lifted off the rock it had perched itself, flying silently towards its prey. Its feathers were pitch black and hence offered a measure of stealth as they blended in with the dark backdrop that was the night sky.
Once it got sufficiently close enough, it flapped its wings forcefully and dove down from above, sharp front claws wide open, targeting the unsuspecting Melantha. At the moment of contact, Melantha let out a groan as she was violently grabbed, the force of the impact between the griffin’s claws and her body knocking the wind out of her. The griffin let out a triumphant shriek and clenched its clawed foot tightly around a stunned Melantha.
It took a few moments for her to come to, but when she did she found herself in the clutches of the griffin as it was heading back towards the mountain and, presumably, to its nest. “Oh no…” She immediately started struggling mostly out of instinct, but the griffin would not have that. It tightened its grip around Melantha, eliciting a moan of pain from her that temporarily stopped her from attempting to escape.
But that was just it, temporary. Melantha grit her teeth, stuffing the pain she was experiencing to the back of her mind and started wiggling back and forth once more, her hands making their way between the griffin’s clawed fingers in an attempt to force them apart and release herself. Suddenly, however, there was the flash of steel and a whistling noise of displaced air before a small knife appeared in her hand. ”Use it!” Kalmar’s familiar voice echoed within her mind.
Her first thought was, “How?” But then her mind went back to their wolf hunt. Melantha remembered how Kalmar so skillfully eliminated the wolves that were attacking him with his knife, and so she tried to replicate them to the best of her ability. She wormed her arm through the griffin’s talons with some effort and stabbed it right at the soft tissue in between. The knife cut through the winged beast’s tough flesh effortlessly much to Melantha’s, and the griffin’s, surprise. It let out a pained shriek and loosened its grip on her for just a moment, but that was just what she needed to slip out of its claws and climb its foreleg. Now running on pure instinct, she started slicing at the skin of its legs while holding on to it for dear life as the griffin was not at all pleased by her actions as one would expect. It bucked and tossed around in an attempt to get rid of her, having reconsidered its previous assessment of Melantha as an ‘easy prey’.
Climbing just a bit further up let Melantha grab onto the griffin’s feathers, and that was pretty much what spelled the end for the beast. It desperately tried to do everything in its power to throw her off, but like as if she had been possessed by something, Melantha refused to relent in her pursuit. The hunter had become the hunted, one could very much say. Eventually, she managed to climb onto the griffin’s back and once there, she started mercilessly stabbing it wherever she could. It took several minutes filled with furious screeches filled with pain and anger before the griffin finally succumbed to its injuries before its dead body commenced a final dive towards the ground, Melantha on top of it.
However, she could not find herself to disentangle herself from the dead beast. Her whole body was numb from the sheer exhaustion of the fight, and her mind felt heavy. She looked at her hands, filled with blood and holding a faintly shimmering knife, and her last waking thoughts were Kalmar’s urgent voice calling out to her to use it.She would awake back in the cave. A fire had been started. Kalmar was nearby, a pile of feathers next to him, and he was meticulously attaching each one to the shoulders of what appeared to be some sort of fur vest. He glanced over to her when he noticed her shuffling about. ”Are you alright?” he asked her.
Opening her eyes to Kalmar was a relieving sight for Melantha. She groaned in discomfort as she sat up, hand on her head and looking at him groggily. “I-I think so,” she said in a hoarse voice. It was then that she noticed the feathers he had on his hands, and her mind immediately remembered all that had transpired. “What happened? After… that.”
Kalmar continued his work, now adding feathers to the vest’s waist, but managed to keep his eyes on her. ”I took some feathers from the griffin, then gave its body to some wolves. After that, I carried you back here to finish making the clothes. I’m not sure why you passed out - did you have another headache?”
“No, I would know if I had. The residual pain after one of those is much more pronounced than just this small one.” She got on her knees and shuffled a little further up, coming to sit next to him. She looked at him working for a few silent moments before she talked again, this time in a questioning tone. “Is that knife appearing out of nowhere one of your hunting tricks or something that you just came up on the spot? Also on that matter, do you have a habit of stalking people?”
Kalmar raised his eyebrows. ”I’m a hunter, so stalking things is my job,” he said somewhat drily. “To be serious: no, I don’t make a habit of stalking other gods and goddesses. You weren’t at the cave, and I didn’t know where you were, so I grew concerned and wanted to find out,” he answered with a shrug. “As for the knife, it’s not my trick. I could replicate it if I really wanted to, but I’m not the one who made it. It was created by Chopstick Eyes, Goddess of Markets, who gave it to me in exchange for a service.”
“Chos-chopsick eyes? Chopstick?” It was now Melantha’s turn to raise her eyebrows. “What kind of name is that?” she asked him but retracted a few seconds later. “You know what, don’t answer that. I don’t need to know,” she said and laughed. As her joy trailed off, her eyes settled on his, “Thank you,” she said and continued. “Once again you, I presume, saved me. You didn’t have to, but you did, and that means a lot to me.
She looked forward and into the crackling embers of the campfire, her mind drifting back to the time Kalmar first found her. A smile crept up on her face as she recalled that memory. “Sometimes I wonder what would have been should you had not found me…”
“I’d have a lot more carvings, and fewer people to give them to.” Kalmar answered in a serious tone, before shrugging.
Melantha’s eyes widened in surprise and she looked back at him. “Was that a joke? She asked and laughed out loud. “See?! You can do it if you want to! Keep it up and maybe you can make half the people that hate you re-evaluate their opinion,” she said with a giggle.
Kalmar’s expression turned thoughtful, and for a moment he was quiet. He looked away from Melantha, and then back to her. “Maybe I should,” he said seriously. Melantha looked at him in the eyes for a moment before bursting back into laughter once again. “Definitely needs work, yep!”
Instead of answering, Kalmar looked back down at his work. “I’d say these clothes are done,” he said, before passing her the vest, the pants, and the sandals. “Try them on. And hand me that cloak - there’s something I need to add to it.”
Melantha received the clothes, staring at them and back to Kalmar. “How?”
Kalmar blinked in mild surprise but took the question seriously. “See the vest? Put your arms and your head through the large hole at the bottom, and stick them out through the holes at the top - with your head through the middle one. Do the same with your legs and the pants. For the sandals, just slide them on and tie up the greaves.”
“Alright,” she said with a sigh, she seriously did not think having clothes would change much but she was curious enough to try them at least once. She stood up, dropping the cloak and leaving the leggings and sandals on the ground while handling the vest with an almost exploratory look on her face.
Kalmar took the cloak that was left by her feet and then picked up the hood he had fashioned earlier. With his godly powers, he attached the two pieces of fur together, all the while Melantha was dressing up behind him. After a few moments, she called out to him. “Well, what do you think? It feels a little itchy, to be honest with you…”
Kalmar looked up at her, and then rose to his feet, cloak in hand. “You can use your powers to smoothen it out, then. As for what I think…” he handed her the cloak. “I think you look beautiful,” he said in a serious tone.
”Thanks,” she said with a grin and accepted the cloak. “My powers huh? Hmm…” She closed her eyes and felt out for the power that had allowed her to fly. As if a string reacting to being pulled, she felt the now familiar flow of energy within her surge. She thought about what Kalmar had said and imagined the clothes on her being smoother and more fitting on her body, and as if once again moving according to her will, the energy slightly changed them to match her imagination. She instantly felt the difference in the tightness of the vest around her torso and the pants around her thighs.
“Oh this is nicer now, definitely, she said and moved around, testing her flexibility and movement in her new clothes. Once satisfied, she turned to the cloak Kalmar had handed to her, donning it just like how she had it before its modification. “I suppose this goes over the head?” Melantha asked him as she touched the new furry hood.
Kalmar nodded. “I thought it would help with the sun.” Melantha drew it over her head, but could not see much difference. Of course, they were inside a cave and it was night-time outside. She would have to test it out once the sun rose back up again in the morning. “Great!” she told him with a smile.
“Good to hear that you like it,” Kalmar said, before glancing toward the cave’s exit. “As I said, I’m willing to teach you how to use the rest of your godly abilities. For as long as you’re willing to stay, of course. Do you still want to?”
“Of course! After getting a taste of what I am capable of, I don’t think I would ever pass up on knowing more about my powers. Please teach me, Kalmar!” She said with an excited look on her face.
“Alright then… wait.” he suddenly spoke. “I made something else.” He picked up the dark grey bow that rested against the wall of the cave. “A bow of your own. It can generate its own arrows, and they will…”
Kalmar returns to the cave and gives Melantha carving. She then shows him something she had drawn on the cave floor, and it turns out they made the same animal. Kalmar then informs her of his conversation with Katharsos and reveals that she erased her own memory. This triggers another headache, and Kalmar has to comfort her.
Kalmar then leaves Melantha alone to think, and she falls asleep, dreaming of terrifying flying mustaches. Meanwhile, Kalmar goes out and makes her clothes, as well as the Bow of Homing and Traceless Sandals.
Melantha wakes up and then attempts to learn how to fly. She succeeds, but in her excitement, she fails to notice a griffin sneaking up on her. It grabs her and they struggle when suddenly the Knife of Friendship appears in her hand. She kills the griffin and then blacks out from the sheer exhaustion.
She wakes up back in the cave. Kalmar tells her what happened, and he gives her the clothes, which she tries on. She uses her powers to make them less itchy, and Kalmar reminds her that he is willing to teach her how to use the rest of her powers as well. She agrees, and then Kalmar remembers to hand her the bow, beginning to explain its use and special powers.
Kalmar, God of Hunting
Starting MP: 7 Starting FP: 4
Expenditures -1MP (discounted to 0 through the Hunting Portfolio) to make Traceless Sandals. -1MP (discounted to 0 through the Hunting Portfolio) to make Bow of Homing.
The Bow of Homing: A bow that conjures forth arrows of mundane energy, which will track and follow the intended target. These arrows will continue to gain speed and force the longer they are in the air, and will pursue the target until they hit something (which does not necessarily have to be the target.) These arrows are incapable of doing sharp or sudden turns, so it is still possible to dodge them. The arrows dissipate after impact.
Traceless Sandals: Footwear that does not leave footprints. That’s about it.
Anhaf knelt before the altar. He pushed the second thoughts about his judgement aside. Tohash had departed, the three Selka taking what few possessions they had and leaving. With luck, they would never return. Or else Anhaf would need to dispense an even harsher judgement.
Now, it was time to stop thinking about that. So, he cleared his mind, and focused.
Kalmar, God of the Hunt, hear my prayer…
There was silence. Of course there was silence - there had always been silence when he prayed to Kirron. But his elders had always told him that Kirron would always hear, even if the god chose not to respond. If that was true for Kirron, then perhaps it was true for Kalmar. He continued on.
I thank you for-
Who are you? a voice interrupted his thoughts.
Startled, Anhaf looked around. But he was alone. It was he who had been the first to accept Kalmar, and it had been his idea to build the shrine, so the other Selka had decided to allow him the first prayer in private. Which meant… a god was actually speaking to him!
Who are you? the voice repeated; a twinge of annoyance mixed with a dash of impatience.
Um… I’m, I’m Anhaf! he prayed, pulling himself together. Chieftain of the Ubbo Tribe.
The what?
We are a tribe of Selka, Anhaf explained. The one your-
I don’t even know what Selka is. How do you know my name? the voice questioned.
I… a bird named Arryn arrived in our village two weeks ago. He told us of you, and he taught us how to hunt. You have my tha-
Arryn? Tell me what he taught you.
So, Anhaf did. He started from the beginning - how the village suffered a shortage of fish, and then Arryn arrived, to bestow them with gifts and the knowledge of how to use them. He went on to mention Arryn’s other teachings, such as the necessity of never wasting food. Anhaf then claimed that the bird had been so useful, they had decided to build a shrine in Kalmar’s gratitude and worship him alongside their creator, Kirron.
Hmph, Kalmar’s voice grumbled when it was all over. That bird had other duties to see to. But he taught you well, and he spread my teachings, so I can forgive it. And I accept your worship - just stay true to what you were taught.
I… I will! Anhaf vowed, almost unable to believe what he had just occurred. A god had spoken to him…
And the shrine is unnecessary. But if it’s already built, there’s no point tearing it down.
The God’s words had been blunt, almost harsh. Anhaf had not expected to receive a response at all, but he had always imagined that a god would sound… different. When he told his people of the conversation, there were mixed reactions. Some looked at Kalmar’s shrine with interest or excitement, while others shook their head, muttered under their breaths, or cast their gazes to the shrine of Kirron instead.
A few moved to Kalmar’s shrines at once and began to pray. By their astonished reactions, Anhaf realized that Kalmar must be answering their prayers as well. And that… was troubling. He found himself staring at the bloodstained altar.
In his entire life, Anhaf had not once received a response from Kirron. He had heard that Kirron did sometimes speak to gods, and indeed one or two of his tribe members had claimed to have heard Kirron’s voice, but Anhaf had never heard that voice for himself. Now, a second god appeared, and he answered their prayers immediately, without delay or hesitation. Why were the two so different?
Anhaf advanced toward the altar, and knelt in the dirt. At first he did not pray, he merely thought. How would he phrase this? It probably wouldn’t even be heard of answered. But he had to give it a shot.
Kirron, God of Blood… he began. I have prayed to you all my life, and I have never received an answer. But a second god made himself known to us, and when I prayed to him, he answered. I do not know why he answers while you are silent. I do not need to know why this is, but… can you please offer some sort of sign? That you are there?
Anhaf waited and listened.
He was perhaps not listening expectantly as much as letting the world around him slip away from his senses, as he usually did in prayer. It was all too familiar. Except, this time, the feeling of being listened to was made sore by his little hope of a response melting away.
"Why, Anhaf, I think this time I will."
The words spread across Anhaf's entire body like warm, relaxing water. He looked up in astonishment.
The voice continued. "...Not because you need a sign, mind you. You are doing great on your own. Your tribe has been sounding healthy and hearty! They're earning their fun again. Makes me happy, Anhaf. No, I'm just having one of those days where a good talk will help me...refocus a little. You get me?"
This was completely unexpected, and he had no idea how to respond. I… thank you, he managed at last.
Anhaf could feel a shark-toothed grin watching him. "You're welcome, chieftain. Heh. You know, you remind me how easy it is sometimes to cheer folks up. Just a little nudge can be the strongest thing in the world." The voice grew in volume. "But! We're talking now, so don't think you just get to be all passive and dumbstruck. Tell me! How are you? How's the family?"
I am well, Anhaf answered after a moment’s hesitation, not expecting a conversation with a god to be so candid. I have no family, only my tribe. A few weeks ago we were struggling, but then a messenger of the god Kalmar showed us a new way to find food.
"Really?" The deep voice breathed with fascination. "Kalmar, eh? I had that fellow down for being too awkward for the likes of you lot. I keep underestimating my peers." He laughed. "I'll have to thank him for helping you out."
He was very… blunt… when I spoke to him, Anhaf admitted. But he and his bird have been of great help. There is only one problem… he paused, unsure of how to continue, until finally he asked a question. Are we allowed to worship more than one god? Gods other than you?
The voice grew quiet, though not in a tense way. Anhaf could feel a contemplation that would make sense to any asked such a question. After all, it was a question that demanded an answer of a different nature than its grammar implied.
"Anhaf, you're a responsible selka," the voice said frankly. "If a man or a woman of the Ubbo wants to go and visit another tribe and they come back with a friend who wants to stay, what do you say to that?"
Then I let them stay. But what if others in my tribe do not want them? Three Selka have already left because some of us chose to worship Kalmar, claiming it is not your will, and others are unhappy.
The voice pulled a sturgeon face and nodded, somehow. "So, the blood is heating up. What have you tried so far, chieftain?"
Nothing yet - it happened today. One of them pointed a weapon at me and tried to force me to step down. He knows that is punished with exile, so I exiled him. Two others chose to leave with him. As for the others who are still unhappy… they didn’t choose to leave, so I think they might learn to accept it. I’m not forcing anyone to worship Kalmar, I only encouraged it because of what he did for us.
Anhaf felt stared at. "Chieftain. What do you want?"
What I want? All I want is to keep my people happy and safe, Anhaf answered.
"Bahaha!" The sudden laugh sent a jolt of surprise through Anhaf. "Anhaf! Here's a little secret. You can't keep people happy. You can only allow them to find happiness themselves. And safety? All you need for safety is a game with rules, and you have rules, you've already told me about two already. You have everything you need to make a decision." The voice breathed in deeply though his nose. "Haaaah, but I can't let your little knuckle head think if I keep yammering. Go sit on a rock or something, put your hand on your chin and think it over. I need to get back to helping the rain goddess find pieces of her soul."
Okay, I will… Anhaf prayed. Thank you, Kirron.
"It was nothing, really, you had all you needed!" he reassured. "Oh! And one more thing. Whenever anyone prays to me, I hear every word. Remember that. Earn all the fun you can, Anhaf."
Anhaf rose to his feet. Several of his people were watching him, with confused expressions. They had seen him pray before, but never had he become so immersed. He glanced over to the Kalmar shrine, where a handful still knelt in prayer to the Hunter God. Then he looked back at the Shrine of Kirron, and breathed a sigh of relief, the conversation having erased his doubts. Kirron had not opposed the worship of a second god, which meant the concerns of Tohash and the rest had been moot. It also assured him that his tribe was watched over by two gods instead of one, and with that knowledge he would sleep more peacefully.
Anhaf was about to announce the details of the conversation for all to hear, to settle the remaining doubts, but then… he didn’t. Not all would believe him, and the timing was too convenient. A mortal, who had never spoken with a god before, suddenly speaking to two different gods in one day? No, he would have to convince them by himself, without leaning on Kirron. Not all would listen, and if they chose to leave, then that was their decision to make.
But Anhaf and the rest would have a clean conscience.
Anhaf decides to pray to Kalmar at the newly created shrine, and Kalmar answered. Kalmar mainly tries to learn how Anhaf learned to contact him, and when Anhaf tells him the conversation turns to the Ubbo Tribe’s interaction with Arryn. Kalmar then more or less tells Anhaf to keep doing what he’s doing, and signs off.
Anhaf then has a mini-crisis of faith and starts praying at the altar of Kirron. Kirron answers him as well. They talk about the state of the tribe, with Kirron remarking that they are doing well, and then Anhaf asks if the Selka are allowed to worship multiple gods. Kirron responds with an analogy which seems to imply it is alright.
Anhaf then tells Kirron about Tohash’s exile and the disapproval of some of the tribe members, uncertain of what to do. Kirron assures Anhaf that he should be capable of making his own decisions. Kirron then goes back to whatever he was doing inside Li’Kalla.
Afterward, Anhaf decides not to inform the rest of the tribe of his conversation with Kirron, suspecting that some won’t believe him and that it would be best if he convinced them on his own.
Tohash stopped and turned. His son, Yulaf, and other Selka, Dikjonsun, were closed behind him. Dik was the one who had spoken. Tohash’s expression hardened into a glare. “What did you expect? We’re exiled. Walking is all we can do.”
“Maybe we’ll find another tribe,” Yulaf suggested.
“One that still has faith, I hope,” Tohash grumbled bitterly as he turned and continued, using his spear as a walking stick. His age was catching up to him. He was no longer built for this sort of travel, but he refused to let it show. The hours passed. They came across more than a few animals, but none that could threaten them. They stopped briefly to fish for their meal. Then, with Jonsun on watch, Tohash and Yulaf fell asleep.
In the morning Jonsun was gone. Tohash cursed. “Why did that fool even come with us?” At least he had the decency to leave them their possessions. They rose to their feet and continued onward.
The days of travel had begun to wear down Tohash’s senses. Nobody could remain vigilant for hours on end. Thus, his mind began to wander, and it was Yulaf who had to point out the structures that had been built up ahead. They were small, structures made of interlocking branches that seemed to just be stuck into the ground. However, they seemed almost haphazard, as if those who had built them did not truly know what they were doing and constructed in a sloppy manner as the smaller structures were built in a seemingly random fashion. But it soon became clear that they were trying to mimic the tall structure sitting atop a sand dune, made from wood and leaf just as the others had, but it seemed far more deliberate and sturdy than the others.
Soon enough, there was movement through the village, other Selka moved through the village, some moving towards the water and others to the nearby forest.
It was something, at least. Perhaps they might be willing to help two exiled travellers. Tohash advanced forward. “Hello there!” he called out when they came within earshot. Both he and Yulaf waved in greeting.
Some of the selka turned their heads towards the approaching pair, before they looked at each other and spoke in hushed whispers. One of them began moving at a quickened pace towards the massive structure atop the sand dune as three of the other approached, looking to one another nervously.
The trio stopped a distance away, looking at Tohash and Yulaf before one began speaking, “Who are you and why have you come?” The voice was rough, and upon his shoulder was a singular scar. Though it seemed that he was the leader of this tribe with how he carried himself in confidence.
They stopped waving. “My name is Tohash! This is my son, Yulaf! We were unjustly driven from our tribe, and now seek a home elsewhere,” Tohash replied.
“I do not believe you want to make your home here,” the man said, looking to those who stood behind him before back to Tohash. He stepped forward, approaching them as he looked back at the tall structure, and spoke in a hushed whisper, “You should go before she comes.”
Tohash furrowed his brow. “Who?” he questioned, following the Selka’s gaze at the tall structure, which prompted even more curiosity. “How did you build such a thing?”
“We didn’t,” he spoke as a tall woman of white emerged from the structure with the Selka who had entered, massive wings that looked of the night sky stretched as the selka pointed to the ground. “She did,” the male finished before stepping away from Tohash and looking at the sand. A singular flap of wings sounded as the woman moved towards the group.
She landed behind the trio and gaze upon the father and son, a mostly featureless face unmoving as she stepped past the three. The male seemed to lower himself in her presence.
“Welcome,” the woman said as she approached, something in the sand trailing behind her. It was a massive blade, blackened and rippling with scarlet energy. As she stopped in front of them, she planted the blade in the sand in front of her, her hands never leaving its hilt. “Johas, who are the two?” she asked.
“They are exiles seeking refuge, my queen. Tohash and Yusaf are their names,” spoke the now submissive male.
“Is this true?” she asked the two in front her, her eyeless face unmoving as she spoke.
Tohash eyed the seemingly eyeless ‘queen’ warily. Then, he nodded. “It is. We were cast out because we refused to accept the worship of a false god.”
The woman turned her head to the trio for a moment before giving the attention back to Tohash, “Such is the nature of those who seek to force their beliefs upon others,” she said, pausing for a moment, “Forgive me, I am Atmav, God-Queen of the Aspasia. You may rest here for as long as you like.” She gave them a small smile as her head moved between the two.
“God-Queen?” Yulaf spoke up, adopting the same wariness as his father.
“Indeed,” Atmav confirmed, nodding her head to Yulaf.
“The only god we worship is Kirron,” Tohash said. “It is why we were exiled from our tribe in the first place.”
“Then you may worship Kirron. I do not care about worship, so long as you respect my authority,” Atmav noted, leaning on her blade. “I understand that your kind have a strong connection to Kirron and I will not interfere with that.”
“Thank you,” Tohash said, not truly feeling thankful but realizing it would do him no good to make her an enemy. “We can stay for a day or two, but after that we must move on.”
“And where would you be travelling? If you do not mind me asking, that is,” Atmav asked inquisitively.
“I don’t know. I wish to find a tribe that only worships Kirron,” Tohash answered. “He is the only god I have ever worshiped, and I wish to find Selka who feel the same.”
Atmav was silent for a moment, thinking before letting out a disappointed sigh, “There is the Grottu, but they are savages as far as I am aware and they are my enemies. Yimbo defends them, but I have bested Yimbo. It is that sign that I do not believe the Grottu have Kirron’s favor.” Her voice became colder and colder as she looked down upon Tohash a frown coming upon her face before letting out a laugh. “But who am I to deny two traveller’s their wishes,” she spoke as she hefted the blade over her shoulder, “I will have a feast ready by the night if you two wish to join us!”
With that she turned and flew off, leaving the duo in the care of Johas, who kept his gaze down and approached them. “We welcome you, please come with me to my home” he said in a defeated voice.
“She… she bested Yimbo?” Yulaf spoke in disbelief. Tohash clenched his fists in outrage, but said nothing. “Yimbo is supposed to be our protector! Why did she fight him?” Yulaf continued.
“I suppose it was to prove that he is unworthy as a protector,” Johas stated, his voice saddened before continuing, “It was said that she threw him upon Grottu and killed many. I cannot imagine how Yimbo must feel for being used to murder those he was tasked to protect…” He let out a sigh before looking up at the two. “But I suppose the Queen is right, if she bested Yimbo and the Grottu, I do not believe they have Kirron’s favor.”
“Blasphemy…” Tohash hissed. “If they did not have Kirron’s favour, then why would Yimbo have defended them? Why do you follow that murderer?”
“Were you not listening? She would kill us if we did not submit, we cannot hope to fight her,” Johas said, flinching from the words of Tohash. “I do not wish to see all those who I know and love be slaughtered just so we can hold onto our views.”
“Pray to Kirron for aid,” Tohash urged him. “He cannot allow this to happen.”
“If he did not want this to happen, then why would it?” Johas shook his before turning away from Tohash. “Would you not protect your son, even if it meant you had to turn your back to the divine? That is the choice I had to make for my people. There is no fighting it,” he continued.
“I would not abandon Kirron,” Tohash insisted. “I follow my heart and I take what comes. That is how we are meant to live.”
“If that is what you want to believe. I will not allow my people to die just to solely believe in Kirron,” Johas stated, stepping away from Tohash before he continued, “I would recommend you become more open-minded, if not for yourself, then for your son’s sake.”
“You see no alternative other than serving a demon, and you say I need to be more open-minded?” Tohash asked, clearly affronted, but doing his best to keep his voice hushed.
“I am surviving. Just as Kirron would want. I am sure that he would find my judgement to be sound,” Johas sighed, turning away from Tohash. “Perhaps I am as stubborn as you are. But like I said, I am not allowing my people to die just so we can worship Kirron.”
Johas began to step away, moving back to the tribe of crudely made structures. The two who had came with him to greet Tohash gave the father and son one last look before turning to follow Johas, leaving them to their own devices.
“What do we do?” Yulaf asked after they were out of earshot.
“The last time I tried to inspire others, they turned against us, and they were our own tribe,” Tohash recounted bitterly, then he sighed. “We will have no luck if we try the same here. And we cannot make this place our home.”
“What if he tells his ‘queen’ what you said?” Yulaf asked.
“Then we’re doomed,” Tohash answered. “She can fly. We can run now, and she will catch us. We can sneak away during the feast, but she will notice our absence, and catch us. No. We go to this feast, and leave in the morning. We must pray to Kirron that this Johas still has a shred of decency.” With those words he walked into the village, briefly glancing up at the sky.
Kirron protect me.
The sky had become a mixture of orange and blue as the sun began the process of setting in the horizon, bringing a time of silence upon the tribe as the people began to assemble outside the great house that Atmav had built. They all sat in one giant half-circle as their queen brought out several deer from her building and ocean-hunters brought fish by the handful. For the tribe, it was a bountiful amount of food, given there were only thirty adults in the village, but many more young mouths to feed. It was due to this abundance of food that there was a mixed expression of both happiness and fear.
Atmav gave a smile before her she ripped the hind leg of the deer clean off the body before using her massive blade to carve out portions of meat. She handed the meet to the children who sat in the front, fish also being passed to them as the adults merely watched from behind. It was silent as this happened, clear that the people were still more fearful of the giant woman more than they were happy of the abundance of food.
Once the children were fed, Atmav distributed food to the adults, the first of which being Tohash. “I hope you have been having a pleasant day,” she said, a smile across her face.
“I have,” Tohash said as he accepted a piece. He was not sure what to make of the atmosphere. Though she was a false god and a demon, Atmav had been nothing but friendly. Yet if the stories were true, she had also murdered countless Selka and fought the Selka guardian. Furthermore, everyone was clearly terrified of her. Was this all a show, then? “Do you have feasts like this often?” he asked.
“As often as I can manage, though sometimes Sprite keeps me from going to hunt,” Atmav answered before handing a piece to Yulaf. She still held her smile before calling for Johas to take over food distribution, not leaving her guests for the moment. “I think the people appreciate the gesture, though I suppose they are still wary of my strength,” she said absentmindedly.
“Who is Sprite?” Yulaf questioned after taking a bite of his piece.
“Sprite is my little friend, about this tall,” Atmav said, holding up her hands a few inches apart before continuing, “She is my right hand. Though I do question her leadership skills sometimes.” The Queen allowed herself to laugh a bit at her own words as she looked back to Tohash as her laughter faded a bit.
She is mad, Tohash realized. She thinks her own hand speaks to her.
“I try my best to keep the people happy,” She said, going back to their original conversation.
“With food?” Yulaf asked. By the look on his face, his thoughts were similar to Tohash’s - contrary to Atmav’s friendly demeanor and the plentiful food, none of these people actually seemed to be happy.
“Well… yes. A full belly is always something to boost the morale of a group, at least, that was my experience before I came to Galbar,” she looked back at the people who talked to one another, quietly and in hushed tones. Atmav only gave a saddened sigh, “Galbar is proving to be different than my old home.”
“Food will not always be plentiful,” Tohash warned her between bites. “My own tribe suffered a shortage.”
“That is… unfortunate. Though we have yet to suffer such a blight here, I will keep that in mind,” Atmav said, raising her hand to her chin and going into thought. She shook her head to return to her duty of entertains the guests, giving a soft smile. “Did your people overcome such a challenge?”
“They did,” Tohash answered bitterly. “At the cost of their faith. It is why we were exiled.”
“You people and your faith to Kirron. The Grottu felt the same way, probably still do,” Atmav commented, her own disdain coming to her voice, “I swear, if he did as horrible things as Vakk does then you would question the divine as I have.”
She allowed a finger to run across the blade of her greatsword before speaking in a softer tone, “But not all the gods are bad, I suppose.”
“You called yourself God-Queen,” Yulaf pointed out.
“A title Sprite bestowed upon me, with, perhaps, a modicum of truth. In this realm, I have been strengthened and made into something more powerful than what you could comprehend,” Atmav explained, still tracing her finger along the blade of her weapon.
“What do you mean by that?” Yulaf asked, his own wariness giving way to curiosity.
Atmav gave some thought for a moment before answering, “Well, the strength that I have been gifted allows me to do great things, like lift up the massive weight of Yimbo. I can drag trees. But that is not what makes my power terrifying to your kind, when in battle I have been known to fly into a rage so powerful that I lose the ability to feel pain.” She allowed herself to laugh a bit at the last sentence before continuing, “The Grottu threw rocks upon me and I felt nothing. I held open Yimbo’s mouth and I did not feel his teeth graze me.”
Atmav grew silent for a moment before shifting the hold of her blade to Yulaf, “Go on. Lift this blade.”
Reluctantly, Yulaf set down his food, and although Tohash shot him a warning look, he reached forward with both hands to grip the sword. When Atmav let go, the blade nearly dropped, but Yulaf tightened his grip, grit his teeth, and strained to keep it upright. His hands shook, and the tip of the blade wavered like a branch in a storm.
“My divine strength allows me to effortlessly wield that sword,” Atmav said, watching the young man exerting himself to hold up the sword. She crossed her arms and gave a wide smile, laughing a bit before commanding, “Is that all you can lift it? Come now, show me your inner fire, boy! Lift it!”
Tohash shook his head slightly, but Yulaf either did not notice or did not heed the warning. With an audible groan he raised the blade higher. The blade continued to shake, his eyes closed, beads of sweat rolled down his face, and his muscles bulged. Then he stopped, and it looked as though he could not go any further. A second passed, and his groan turned to a yell as he raised it as high as he could, pointing it directly at the ceiling. He held that pose for a few seconds more before the weight toppled him from his seat and onto the floor.
After a while, he rose to his feet, leaving the weapon on the floor.
Atmav’s eyeless face merely stared at the boy with her wide grin. “That is the fire I wanted to see!” She explained before clasping his shoulder as a hearty laugh rolled over her. “You will be strong in the future, boy! I can tell! A fine build for a warrior!”
Yulaf said nothing. His muscles ached, and he was exhausted. To say that he ‘sat back down’ would be inaccurate; he allowed himself to fall back onto his seat. He looked to Atmav and nodded.
“I think my son could use some rest,” Tohash suggested, shooting Yulaf a reprimanding look.
The Queen gave a disappointed huff. “If you say so,” Atmav sighed, moving to pick up her blade before stopping by Yulaf. “I can teach you a thing or two about being a warrior, all you need to do is ask,” she whispered into his ear before moving to her seat at the back of the building.
“Wait,” Yulaf managed to speak up between heavy breaths. He took a moment to collect himself, and then continued. “How strong can I become?”
“Yulaf…” Tohash began in a disapproving voice.
Atmav stopped, turning to Yulaf, “You can become as strong as you desire, so long as you work for that strength.”
“And you say you can show me how?” Yulaf asked.
“I could, but it takes time, and dedication,” Atmav informed, still holding a smile.
“We have nothing else to do,” Yulaf said, sitting taller on his seat.
“Yulaf!” Tohash repeated, in a sharper tone. He looked to Atmav. “We will be leaving tomorrow morning.”
“Now, now,” Atmav began, looking back at Tohash, “Tell me, where does Yulaf sit? With the adult or the children?”
Tohash returned her gaze, though there were no eyes to stare into. It was Yulaf who spoke next. “Father… that Bird of Kalmar who came to our tribe. He did not force us to change, he did not force us to worship his master, he did not take away our right to worship Kirron. Anhaf accepted his help willingly, and you were the only one who objected when they built a shrine. I went with you into exile not because I agreed with you, but because you were my father, and I thought we would find another tribe. We walked for days until we found this one, and it changed as well. When do we stop walking?”
“When we find a tribe that still holds it faith,” Tohash answered, turning his glare onto his own son.
“And what if they all changed? What then? Do I bury you in the woods and then die alone?” Yulaf shook his head. “The Selka are changing, father.”
“You are, in fact, welcome to stay with us,” Atmav reminded.
“And they have food here,” Yulaf added. “The bird was right. Our shortage had nothing to do with Kirron.”
Tohash looked from Yulaf, to Atmav, and then to Yulaf again. For a moment, he hesitated. Then, his expression darkened, and he looked away. “You are no longer my son,” he said in a defeated tone. Without another word, he stood and walked out the door.
Yulaf rose to his feet as well. He took three steps to follow and then stopped, hesitating.
Atmav’s footsteps came from behind Yulaf and when she spoke, her voice bared anger this time, “How dare he?” She came up next to him, her mouth curled into an angered grimace. “You did nothing wrong and this is how he treats you? If that were my father then I would confront him and show him what happens when you disown family.”
“Nothing will come of it…” Yulaf muttered. “He had me, our tribe, and his faith. Now he only has his faith, and he won’t give that up. There’s… there’s no point in picking fights with old men.”
“If that is what you believe,” Atmav said, rolling her head for a moment before asking Yulaf, “And what will you do?”
“The bird said that we should look for ways to better ourselves,” Yulaf answered sadly. “And Kirron taught that we should find our fun where we can. Maybe I can do both. You said I can stay?”
“Indeed, you can,” Atmav confirmed, nodding her head as she took a singular step forward to look out of her home. “We could always use more hands, but they must be loyal hands,” she said before turning to Yulaf.
She saw tears in his eyes. With one hand, the Selka wiped them away. “Then I will stay,” he decided.
Tohash, Yulaf, and Dikjonsun have been wandering for days. Dikjonsun abandons them in the night. The next day, Tohash and Yulaf discover a village belonging to the Aspasia Tribe, ruled by Atmav. She allows them to stay the night, and decides to throw a feast.
Tohash and Yulaf then learn about her fight with Yimbo. Tohash is reluctant to stay with someone who fought the Selka’s guardian, and took over a tribe through force, but decides that they have little choice but to stay.
Then the feast occurs. Tohash and Yulaf ask some questions - about the village and about Atmav herself. Atmav then challenges Yulaf to lift her sword, and although he is barely able to do so, he eventually falls over. This is enough to impress her, and she says that if he works hard enough he can become a warrior.
Yulaf then decides to stay with the Aspasia Tribe and learn from her, much to Tohash’s anger and disappointment. He disowns Yulaf and leaves. Atmav encourages Yulaf to take action, but Yulaf refuses, and confirms his wish to stay with her tribe.
Anhaf loosed the arrow, and it nearly found its mark. Alongside him, the other Selka did the same. It had been nearly five days since that first hunting trip - two weeks since the bird arrived at the village. Now, every day, Arryn led a party of hunters out to gather food. And just yesterday, he had decided that one of the hunters was fit to lead a hunting party of their own. Now they had two teams on the hunt instead of just one.
The rest of the Selka kept busy by continuing their archery practice, or stubbornly going out to find what fish still remained. Anhaf had decided to join in on the practice, as a means of encouraging his people. He had not claimed the title of chief through blood or force; the tribe had elected him. Thus, it was important that he be held in high regard. He had the best intentions for his people, but if they had no faith in him, he could be deposed, and then someone less worthy might take his place. His people had already begun to doubt his leadership when the shortage began, and even more doubts had emerged when he so readily began listening to the bird, but now that the hunters were beginning to consistently bring back food those doubts had been erased.
He glanced over at the shrine of Kirron - a boulder, flat side facing up, covered with blood and topped by a skull. It had not come from a creature they killed themselves, but rather one they found dead in the wild. With all the meat on it, they had believed it to be a gift from Kirron. They had poured its blood on a rock and mounted its skull on top to create a place of worship. Many in the tribe prayed there daily.
The most common worshiper, aside from Anhaf himself, was Tohash - an older Selka. Tohash was respected for his age, knowledge, and faith. He had even been a contender for chief, but had accepted his loss with grace. Lately, however, he had proven problematic. He stubbornly refused to learn the bow, instead spending all his time praying or fishing. Tohash still believed that, with enough patience and faith, Kirron would bring the fish back. He had even gone so far as to refuse to consume any meat other than fish, and Anhaf could not grasp why. When asked, Tohash refused to answer.
Anhaf had decided to leave the older Selka be. Tohash still brought in fish, which meant he was still contributing, and therefore there was little practical reason to force him to pick up a skill he had no interest in.
Anhaf glanced over at a group of Selka who, sharp stones in hand, carved away at sticks. They were crafting more arrows, as Arryn had taught them. The arrows Arryn had given them were more or less just smaller, better balanced versions of the wooden spears they used to catch fish. Given how often they ended up lost, broken, or bent beyond use, it had been a sensible decision to craft more. Indeed, the bird had been nothing but useful. Arryn had taught them valuable knowledge, and even now led a hunting party to help bring them more food. The Avatar had never asked for anything in return, but Anhaf knew that the Hunting God and his Avatar had to be repaid.
Then he had an idea. He ordered the six Selka with him to lower their bows. "Follow me!" he said, and then led them into the forest. Tohash looked up from prayer and caught his eye, furrowing a brow in suspicion, but then turned back to the altar.
They emerged from the forest a short while later, carrying a stone boulder. They brought it to the beach, where they washed the worms and mud from the bottom, and then they carried it back to the village. They did not place it directly in the center, but instead near the western edge, close to the tree where the hunters practiced their archery. They positioned it so that the flat side faced the sun, and then Anhaf considered what to put on it.
Arryn had told him the importance of ensuring they used as much as what they killed as possible. And Anhaf had done his best to follow that, making sure that every edible morsel of meat was consumed.
That gave him an idea. What better way to show that they were honouring Kalmar's teachings than to decorate the altar with proof? So, he retrieved the skull and bones of last night's meal - a great antlered beast that had been brought down. Its bones were more or less picked clean. He brought them to altar, placed the skull on top, and then began to arrange them in a neat pile.
"Anhaf! What are you doing?" Tohash's voice demanded from behind him.
Anhaf turned to see the Selka standing, with spear in hand. It was the first time Tohash had spoken to him in days. "I'm building an altar," he answered.
"We already have an altar to Kirron. Why do we need two? And where is the blood?" Tohash inquired, his eyes narrowed.
"This altar is not for Kirron," Anhaf answered. "It is for Kalmar."
Tohash clenched his fists, a look of outrage on his face. There was a tense silence. He sucked in air, and his eyes bore into Anhaf's. Then, he almost seemed to explode. "NO!" he shouted. If they entire village wasn't already paying attention to the spectacle, they were now. "You allow the servant of a false god into our village. You accept his teachings, you get us to turn against our old ways, all while spending less and less time praying at Kirron's shrine. Then you go and build... this!" he waved a frustrated hand to indicate the shrine. "You've gone too far!"
Anhaf glanced at the villagers. Only one or two seemed to share Tohash's anger. They were still on his side. Good. He looked back at Tohash and met the older Selka's gaze, raising his voice so that all his people could hear. "I don't know about you, but there is more than enough room in my heart for two gods. Anyone here may worship only Kirron, or only Kalmar, if they want, but there is no reason we can't worship both!" he declared. Many of the Ubbo nodded along to his words.
Tohash was not satisfied. "Ingrate!" he shouted in rage, stepping forward and pointing his spear at Anhaf. "Kirron is our creator! He made us! No gifts and no lessons can compare to that! Had you been patient, had you kept faith, we would not have needed the bird's help in the first place!" Tears began to form in his eyes, but the anger in his voice did not dull. "There is still hope. Tear down this shrine, send the bird away, burn those weapons, and Kirron might return to us."
Anhaf raised an eyebrow. "You're the one who accuses Kirron of abandoning us, and you say I lost faith?" he challenged.
Tohash shook his head. "Don't you see? Why do you think the fish disappeared? It is because Kirron was displeased with us! It was meant to remind us how much we need him, to bring us closer to him! Instead, you ignored this lesson and steered us into the shadow of a false god!"
"The fish are gone, either because we caught too much or because they chose to move elsewhere." Anhaf answered.
Tohash sighed, and closed his eyes. "The bird told you that, didn't he? That is what he wants you to think!" Then he opened his eyes, and his resolve hardened. "You are no longer fit to lead," he declared and then stepped forward, so that his spear was only an inch from Anhaf's throat. "You will step down, and give-"
Anhaf's hand lashed out and grabbed the spear. He pointed it away from his throat and ripped it from the Tohash's grip, then jabbed the butt of the weapon into the older Selka's stomach. Tohash fell to the ground, gasping, but before the old man could get back up Anhaf had already turned the spear around and pressed the tip against his elder's throat.
"To threaten the chieftan is to threaten the entire tribe," Anhaf declared. "You know that as well as anyone." He pulled the spear back as if to strike, and then thrust it into the dirt next to Tohash's head. "From this day forth, you are no longer Ubbo, and you are a Selka only in name. You are exiled, and you may never return."
Tohash's rage redoubled, and he leapt to his feet. "You cannot stand for this!" he shouted to the rest of the tribe. "This is blasphemy! Stand with me, and we can set things right!"
There was silence. Then, one Selka stepped forward - Tohash's son, Yulaf. Moments passed, and then two more came forward. A few seconds later, one of them quickly scooted back it when it became clear nobody else intended to offer support. Nonetheless, those who were willing to stand with him walked right up to Tohash's side. In response, the six hunters who had helped set up the shrine appeared next to Anhaf.
Anhaf looked at the two Selka were evident disapproval. "If you wish to join Tohash in exile, you may." They glared back at him, and when he realized they had nothing to say, he continued speaking. "You have one hour to leave." One hour to say their goodbyes and gather their belongings. And so they turned away to do exactly that.
The other Selka went back to their business, and once he was no longer the center of attention, Anhaf let out a deep breath. Had he made the right decision? He had decided to put faith in both Kirron and Kalmar, but what if Tohash's words had been true? And even if they weren't, had banishing him been the right move? He had lost three of his people, including his best fisherman, and who knew how many others secretly disagreed with his decision?
Part of him also felt like he had failed. He had liked Tohash, and respected him. Perhaps he could have tried harder to convince him, or asked for the rest of the tribe's consensus before building the new shrine.
He rubbed his temples. Times were simpler, back when the fish were plentiful and he only knew of one god. But times had changed. He had accepted that, and Tohash had not.
Anhaf has decided to join in on the archery training. Meanwhile, Arryn has continued to take out hunting parties. Anhaf reflects on all the bird has done for them, and out of gratitude he decides to construct a shrine to Kalmar. This quickly offends one of the other tribesmen, an older Selka named Tohash.
Tohash and Anhaf get into an argument - Tohash believes that they should only worship Kirron, while Anhaf is adamant that they should be allowed to worship both Kirron and Kalmar. Tohash calls for Anhaf to destroy the shrine and send Arryn away, but Anhaf refuses. Tohash threatens Anhaf, and demands that he steps down. A quick fight ensues, which results in Tohash being banished, along with two others who chose to go with him.
An arrow embedded itself in a tree trunk. Four more followed in quick succession. The five Selka looked at each other, to make sure every arrow had been loosed, and then stepped forward to retrieve their ammunition.
From a distance, Anhaf observed the practice in silence, his arms crossed. He turned to the bird who was perched on a low hanging tree branch. "It's been five days," he said.
"And?" came the bird's response.
"Five days," Anhaf repeated. "All we have done is shoot at trees. We still hunger."
"Do you expect to learn a skill overnight? Most of your people have figured out the correct stance and the proper draw. All that is left to improve is their accuracy. If you expect an immediate solution, I will not provide it. You need to learn how to survive on your own, without depending entirely on gods. Or else there will come a day when you need aid, and it will not be provided. On that day, you will die."
Anhaf did not respond. He continued to observe the training practice. Many of the Selka had made a game out of it. With sharp stones they carved targets into the bark of the trees, and each round became a contest to see who could hit closer to the mark. They wagered small, useless treasures - pearls, shells, strangely coloured rocks. Arryn had seen no value in such trinkets, yet for many of the Selka they served as an incentive other than hunger.
Several minutes passed, and finally Anhaf spoke again. "You said there were other gods?" he asked.
"I did," Arryn confirmed.
"Who are they?"
"Phystene is the Goddess of Plants. Ashalla is the Goddess of Oceans. Parvus is the God of Insects. Asceal is the Goddess of Light-"
"A seal is the Goddess of Light?" Anhaf's expression brightened. He glanced up at the sun, shielding his eyes.
"Yes... have you encountered her?" Arryn asked.
"No, but I would like to!" Anhaf said, not averting his gaze from the sky.
"You should know that not all the gods have your interests at heart. The ones I spoke of are my master's allies. But others... Orvus, the God of Desolation. He tried to kill Phystene, and only when my master confronted him did he begin to change his course. Narzhak, the God of Conflict... he made some of my master's creations eat and kill each other, just to fulfill his own amusement. Then there is Shengshi, the God of Rivers - a vile, wretched, and spiteful creature." The bird's usual monotone voice was suddenly filled with a venom that took Anhaf off guard.
"Are they dangerous?" Anhaf asked.
"Probably," Arryn said. "If you encounter them, be on your guard, but do not try to provoke them. There is little you can do against them, except pray to another god for protection."
"You just said we shouldn't rely on the gods to survive," Anhaf pointed out.
"I did. You shouldn't rely on them to solve mortal problems, like famine or disease. But if another god is threatening you? Only a god can match another god. At that point you will need to swallow your pride and call for aid. If a god can create you, another god can destroy you just as easily."
Anhaf nodded, and once more the two fell into a long silence. This time, it was Arryn who broke it. "In two days, I will take five of the best into the forest and teach them how to track. They will pass that knowledge on to the rest of you."
Time passed. The Ubbo tribe continued to improve. Only one or two could consistently hit the center, but most were at least able to land their shot within the target. When two more days had gone by, it was a simple enough matter for Arryn to pick out the five best, and lead them into the wild.
There, he taught them how to notice the signs that an animal was present in the area. Which direction it had gone, and how recently it had passed through. He emphasized the importance of remaining silent, and always keeping an ear out for new sounds. At first, it did not go well. The Selka were noisy, somehow managing to snap every single twig and unable to resist laughing and joking with each other as the day dragged on. However, after Arryn snapped at them a few times, they began to take it more seriously. They did not catch anything that day, but the Selka were now capable of moving silently, their skill somewhat bolstered by a subtle blessing.
The next day, they went out once more. After an hour, one of them quietly pointed out a flock of birds roosting in some trees. Arrows were loosed, and two of the creatures fell. Arryn pursued them and pinned one to the ground. Three birds in all. The Selka collected them, and the hunt continued. No luck for the next three hours, but then they happened across a rather large boar.
Once more, five arrows flew, and four found their mark in the leg, shoulder, neck, and rear. The boar squealed and ran, limping heavily, and then collapsed after ten paces. The Selka cheered, and Arryn flew forward to cut the boar's throat with its talons. "Now we carry it back," he told them.
It took four to do so, but carry it back they did. On the journey home they also came across some berry bushes. Between that, the boar, and the birds, they had plenty of food. Upon their return the village greeted them with cheers, and the food was quickly divided up. Anhaf grinned at the sight. Added to the meager fish catch of the day, there was easily enough to feed the entire village.
The first piece of meat was offered to Anhaf, but he turned it away. "Only when everyone else has had a piece," he declared. Then he turned to Arryn. "Thank you, Avatar of Kalmar."
"It does not end here. Your people still have room for improvement. You will also need to know how to craft your own bows and arrows, for when the ones you have now fall into disrepair. I still need to teach you that."
"So you're staying for a little longer?" Anhaf asked with a smile. "Good!"
The Ubbo Tribe practices with their bows. Arryn tells Anhaf about some of the other gods - Phystene, Parvus, Ashalla, Asceal, Shengshi, Narzhak, and Orvus.
After a week of practice, Arryn then takes the five best archers out on a hunting trip, in order to properly teach them how to track and sneak. The first day goes poorly, because the Selka are still learning the basics. Arryn gives them a subtle blessing to help them learn faster. On the second day their luck is much better - they manage to bring down three birds and a boar.
They bring the meat back to the village, much to the villagers' delight. Arryn then explains that he will need to continue overseeing the Ubbo's training, and also teach them how to craft more bows and arrows.
-1MP (discounted to 0 via Hunting portfolio) to bless five of the Selka, allowing them to pick up hunting skills more quickly.
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