Dear Mr Curly, I have done little travelling lately because I have been so dreadfully weary. Can it be true as the old Ecclesiastes said; that all things lead to weariness? Surely not. Perhaps the opposite is true: that all nothings lead to weariness. I have a peculiar feeling, Curly, that I am worn out from something I haven't yet done and the more I don't do it, the more exhausted I become. How strange. Could it be something I haven't realised? Perhaps it's something I haven't said? Something I haven't finished! It must be very large and true whatever it is and a lively struggle in the doing but I look forward to it immensely. I know I need it. First, however, I must curl up in my chair and sleep deeply with the duck. Perhaps I'll dream of this thing and wake up refreshed and do it. My fond wishes to you Mr. Curly, and to all Curly Flat. Yours sleepily, Vasco Pyjama xxx P.S. Not having breakfast can make you weary. That's for sure!
"Oh, of course, come in! Come in!" Ariel slipped off a padded mit from her hand gave Do'rhajul and Tarna each a welcoming smile and a handshake. "It is lovely to finally meet you both. Come to the table -- Rukeewei and I were just relishing some green tomatoes for the tavern, and some for ourselves. The girls cannot get enough of it. I apologise for the smell."
As true as Ariel mentioned, across the lower floor of the house was Rukeewei minding the stove as a vinegary soup of chopped tomatoes, spices, and other flavours bubbled in a large cooking pot.
"It is...very strong, sister," Sabine admitted with some struggle.
"Indeed, I'll open some windows," Ariel quickly said. "Rukee? Look who's here!"
Ariel moved quickly after closing the door behind the group to unlatch some windows, see to some refreshments, and cast excited smiles to her guests. All the while, she was able to speak. "Now, you must tell me, how is everyone? I know it has not been long but it sounds as if so much is happening over in your home. And-oh-you-should-see-the-girls-Meesei-they-have-grown-like-sprouts-since-you-last-saw-them-and-they-have-been-making-friends-and-everything..."
As usual, Ariel's response when overwhelmed was to speak faster than a werelion could run. It was just a matter of who would stop her first; someone present or the depth of her lungs.
Both Do'rhajul and Tarna proved terse with Meesei around. Granted, Do'rhajul was a man of few words in the first place, but both he and Tarna only spoke when spoken to. Meesei's reputation preceded her, even with such a close connection as Sabine between her and the both of them. If there was any consolation, the reduced chatter made dinner finish faster.
Perhaps surprisingly, there was no discussion between Sabine and her two packmates regarding who came along. She told them both to accompany she and Meesei to Thorn.
Tarna audibly sounded her satisfaction to be back in Black Marsh. Though Thorn was on the coast, she had been there a number of times with her clan's proximity. Do'rhajul was likely less comfortable but hardly the complaining type.
Sabine led them through the dim streets, past the last bustle of the evening. Mostly Argonians, as usual, with sprinklings of other races. Everyone but the blind gawked at Do'rhajul.
At last they came upon Ariel and Rukeewei's two-story townhouse. Lights still shone through the windows as Sabine stepped ahead to knock on the door three times. A patient few moments preceded sharp footsteps on floorboards from the other side of the door. The door unlatched and creaked open, revealing Ariel dressed in an apron stained with some description of green ooze. A pointed leather mask hung around her neck below her chin. Behind her came a wave of a scent particularly effective against lycan noses -- something was being pickled and that was the best any of them could immediately guess.
"Sabine?! I did not expect you to be back so soon!" Ariel laughed. "What timing you have! I was just...oh, hello?" She was distracted as her eyes lifted all the way up to see Do'rhajul. She quickly processed the others. "And Meesei! And...hello to you as well, back there?"
Sabine grinned. "This is Tarna and Do'rhajul. I spoke about them when I last visited."
Ariel went a little pale. "Oh, yes, um...Hello..." She cleared her throat. "What brings you all here?"
Meesei stumbled upon a conversation between Sabine's two packmates when she approached.
"General needs not look so gloomy in Hunting Grounds," Tarna the shadowscale said. "He is big enough to swat away flies that might buzz around you. These spirits? No problem. Even if they were, Sabine can shoo them away, and I can tie together their shoelaces before they run."
Sabine grinned at her plate. "They wear no shoes with laces here, Tarna. But I suspect it is not fear of being challenged." She looked to Do'Rhajul. "All your feelings are what you are putting on yourself, Rhajul. Most people here do not even know you by your face."
When Meesei sat down, Tarna immediately cast her eyes down and kept quiet.
"Good evening, Meesei," Sabine said. She appeared in a good mood. She nodded along to Meesei's explanation without as much concern as before, but still with some. The extra time to ruminate about when Meesei had first brought it up had evidently not been dismissed. "We can ask Ariel. I cannot answer for her. But she has helped with important matters before. I believe she will help again."
Without weighing their blade carefully, they will soon find it carving away their own flesh.
The low rumble of thunder slowly passed as the night progressed, the sky was overcast with remnant gray clouds from the storm. Anshumat lay at the fireside the entire night, their wounds stitching and scarring in front of them. The morning promised to be a gloomy one, as if the world was perhaps cognizant of the events that had transpired.
The hazy light of the sun filtered through the gray clouds, dimly revealing the landscape. Anshumat, silent for most of the night, then elected to speak first, saying, “We need to get back to the river,”
The one who dragged the demigod to shelter, Phialu the Determined One, stirred where she slept.
Anshumat shifted themselves up into a sitting position, “we have to find the rest of the K’nights. We need to protect the village.”
Phialu slowly sat up against the wall of the cave. She was exhausted, her eyes still crusted by the mix of tears and mucus she had been intermittently shedding throughout the night. "Uh…" She sniffed and wiped her mouth, blinking hard. "A-are you...Can you walk? You were badly hurt."
Anshumat responded, “It’ll hurt, but I can.” They slowly rose to their feet with a wince. “That doesn’t matter. We need to get back.”
"Right." Phialu stood to her feet with a tiny groan. Getting up quickly was something they both had practice with at this point. She went through the motions of kicking dirt over the coals of the fire and accounting for her bow, her spear, and everything while she spoke. "They said they were going back to the river. That's the fastest way home. If we swim hard and smart, we should be able to catch up."
Phialu stooped to pick up their two whale-bone clubs and held out Anshumat's. She kept her eyes low and away from the demigod.
Anshumat stared sightlessly at the club, hesitating for a time before taking hold of it. They avoided looking at Phialu as well, cradling their club as they said, “We should get going, then.”
"I was trying to find anyone from the missing lake tribe," Phialu spoke up suddenly. "That's why I went ahead. I...couldn't find anyone except you."
No response. The demigod took the first steps out of the cave, looking out at the landscape, searching for the river. It strung like a hazy blue ribbon across the landscape. They began to climb down the rocks. With a brief glance to see if Phialu was following them, they set off across the woods at a breakneck pace, wincing with every step.
The trees slowly passed by Anshumat as they haphazardly weaved through, trampling undergrowth undershell without regard. The trees rustled in the breeze, and the chatter of morning birds sounded off occasionally, but nothing else presented itself.
There was no sound of shifting rocks, the demigod noted, which meant at the very least they hadn’t been followed by Wass’ killers. They then tucked those thoughts away. Listening for the river was the more important task.
For thirty minutes this continued, travel across an empty forest, the demigod paranoid of ambushes by either the Ihokhur or the reaperspawn. But nothing ever came, and as the earliest of the morning birds filtered away, the babble of the river took prominence. They had made it to the river, though the rest of the K’nights were nowhere to be found.
Phialu slowed to a stop and hung her head, catching her breath. She had not said a word since the cave. She looked upstream, downstream, and then to Anshumat. "Can you swim?" she asked. "...Never mind. Stupid question."
She took two quick steps into the river and squat down before kicking off horizontal across the top of the flowing water. Like all selka, her movements instantly changed from an effortful gait on the earth to a graceful swim in water. She turned downstream without waiting.
Anshumat watched her go before entering the stream, kicking awkwardly and painfully in the water. Nevertheless, their divine endurance and strength saw them through their clumsy and injured swim, and soon enough they returned to pace with Phialu.
The swim, too, passed uneventfully as the two swam in sullen silence. The sun slowly moved across the sky as they travelled, soon reaching mid-day by the time the earliest traces of other Selka could be found. It was the middling shape of Kyko the Smiling one who stepped out onto the river bank to wave the pair down. Even he was not smiling today. Not until he saw who emerged from the water, but even that was more out of immense relief than any humour.
"Phialu!? Anshumat? We thought we had lost you." He held out his hands to help them up. "Reph made us wait, just in case."
Phialu took Kyko's hand and hoisted herself up, dripping and not making eye contact.
Kyko craned his head to look behind them. "Is Gralph with you?"
Anshumat grabbed hold of Kyko’s hand, and as they were lifted up answered, “No, I don’t know where he is. I don’t think he’ll be meeting up with us, though.”
Kyko's smile faded.
Anshumat moved on over to the center of the camp. The k'nights looked to their arrival with some sounds of relief and laughter, some standing up to greet them both. Just beyond the group was the hulking shape of Kreekh, who raised a rocky hand in greeting.
Whatever they all said did not matter much. Anshumat looked down at the fire as they said, “We need to get back to the village, before those creatures Gralph fought do. We have to be ready to defend them.”
A quiet second passed.
Reph peered up from his seated position on a small fallen tree. He had a look of intense thought on his face. His snout flared open. "He's not coming back, then?"
Everyone looked at Anshumat.
Anshumat shook their head solemnly, saying, “No, he’s not.”
Reph blinked down and leaned his mouth on his open palm. He sniffed in a deep breath while running his hand quickly up over his face, but did not hesitate to stand up. "K'nights! Pack up and form up!"
"Yeooh," they sounded in defeated unison.
Recent rains swelled the river to the point of being treacherous to anyone without the strength of the k'nights, but for them it only quickened their flight back to the river mouth. They took barely a few days at their pace, especially when kreekh learnt to roll along the river bed rather than run alongside or try to swim himself. The nights camping between their legs of travel were solemn, only once or twice having the spirit to sing a song or do anything fun.
Not a single one of them expressed any ideas on how they would stop the Ihokhurs.
Anshumat swam silently with them, curiously lost in thought. They were absentminded and paid little attention to their surroundings.
By the time they reached the coast, Reph lead them out of the water before the volatile currents of the mouth could waste any more of their energy. He squat down with his hands on his knees and caught his breath, as all but the most enduring k'nights did behind him, but when he stood up, ready to move on, he turned around to the k'nights with a look of worry.
"Everyone take a moment," Reph said. "Takos, Anshumat, come, I need a word." He beckoned the two over with one hand and took some steps out of the way.
Anshumat looked to Reph, walking over with a single glance to the rest of the group. They asked, “What did you need?”
Reph sighed and did not look up at the two. "I'm second in command," he said as plainly as he could. "And the first, well, he's gone."
Takos the Clever itched the back of his head anxiously, glancing at Anshumat with his one good eye.
"I don't want to panic anyone, but…" Reph peered up at them from a slouch. "Boys, I don't know what to do."
Anshumat looked down to the ground for a moment. “I’ve been thinking of it. The first obvious step is to bring the tribes of the area together.” They looked back up at Reph, continuing, “They cannot pick off lone tribes one by one that way. I think we can feed so many in one place, with what Toraph has been working on.”
"Those little plants from the seeds?" Takos said sceptically. "They ain't exactly prime trout."
Anshumat answered back, “I’m sure you’ve foraged a berry bush before. Imagine if, right next to your hut, you had a thousand berry bushes. You wouldn’t need a prime trout.”
Takos stroked his chin and lowered his brow. "Hm, thinking about it, I suppose if you had to keep that many people together for a long time, you could clear out enough space and…"
"Anshumat," Reph interrupted. He let out an uneasy huff. "Listen...the food is one thing. The convincing everyone, let's...okay…" he held both his hands forward like he was holding an invisible basket. "Say we got the tribes together and they stay together long enough to fight these things." He pointed to Kreekh, who was whipping his big stony arm down through the air to shed the river water. "How to selka drive them off?" With his question, Reph showed desperation in his eyes.
Anshumat put up their hand, as if they had an idea, and then said, “Well, with such a number of Selka together, entire groups of Selka could be freed up for more specialized tasks -- you only need so many people to tend to plants and fish. A task considered impossible when done only a few hours a day by a handful of people could be finished quickly with an entire group working all day.”
They continued, “Selka alone are not capable of the feats of strength to defeat the enemy, but what if a group of Selka could carve a boulder from the cliffs, and another group of Selka cut wood into a lever of which to launch those boulders?”
Reph narrowed his eyes. "Excuse me?" He scoffed with frustration. "No, don't joke around. We need ideas that aren't insane-"
"Reph! Reph." Takos was more level-headed. "I wouldn't be so quick to dismiss it." He turned to Anshumat and pointed encouragingly. "By a boulder, you mean a, uh...like one just big enough to crack their heads, right? That would need a lot of oomph. Even Antoph doesn't have a throwing arm that good."
Anshumat shook their head, “Think bigger. One that not ten Selka could throw. Think beyond what is within a Selka’s limits. Consider a log, it is known that a properly weathered length of wood can bend to a degree, and is eager to return to its original form. What if you were to harvest the power of that wood to launch the boulder for you?” They leaned in to explain. “It is easier to bend the wood than to throw the boulder. A group of Selka bend the wood with a pulley and rope, place the boulder into a bowl at the end of the wood, and then let loose the rope.”
Takos was fascinated. He lifted one finger. "Question. What's a rope?"
"Guuah!" Reph held his fists to his head, his face scrunched up. "I would have to see this to believe this. But..."
"Reph," Takos gave a sly grin. "You know I can build things. Anshumat and me could build it with some villagers."
Reph closed his eyes and thought for a moment with his lips tightly pursed. "...Anshumat, you think you could teach Takos how to build this thing? And find...rope, whatever it is? If we're going to pull this off, I'll need your time to work out getting tribes together and we don't have time to waste."
Anshumat nodded, “I could. Rope is merely a name for lengths of twine tied together to create a stronger whole, like a thick vine. As for the villages, I believe I can help.”
Takos' head went back. "Oooooooh," he realised. "It's like a thick cord? I get it."
Reph gestured firmly to Anshumat with a flat hand. "Okay. Now you have to tell me straight. Can we beat these things?"
“Us, this small group, alone? No. A single tribe? No. A hundred flint spears would break upon their stony skin long before you manage to create even a small piercing. Clubs would smash to splinters. But, together, with new weapons and new defences, yes. It would be difficult, but possible,” Anshumat mused.
It took a long pause of Reph staring straight into Anshumat's blind eyes for him to shift so much as an inch. He eventually straightened and let go of his defeated pose, growing stoic instead. "I'm going to meet with the chief. Tell him what's happened. What we saw. What's coming. By the time I come out, I want Takos working on putting together this big strong lever of yours and for you to be ready to inspect the plants and talk about how to get tribes together." He nodded upwards. "The chief would know more about it than me, and he'll have some difficult questions, so be prepared."
The village of the river mouth tribe gathered to receive the k'nights, just as they had the first time. Kreekh had been left a short distance behind them -- Reph figured getting the k'nights to introduce him later would make them less panicked to see a giant like him. All the same, the k'nights' dour trudging coloured the atmosphere in worry. Tribesfolk whispered and murmured to one another.
The river mouth chief was approached immediately by Reph, who spared no pleasantries. "You got a minute? It's important."
The chief leant to look around Reph's shoulder. "Where's the big one?"
"I said it's important," Reph calmly reaffirmed.
The old chief's eyes went wide. He composed himself and turned around, beckoning Reph to follow.
Meanwhile, the rest of the k'nights wandered towards the centre of the village in various states. However, Anshumat was stopped by a familiar voice.
"What happened?" Toraph asked. He stood beside Anboor. They both looked scared. "I saw you coming back up the river with the hood," Toraph continued. "What happened to Gralph? Where's Wass?"
Before Anshumat could respond, Phialu, who had her eyes down the entire time, broke into a sprint out of the village, wiping her eyes with her forearms.
Anshumat looked to Reph and the Chief, before looking back to Toraph and Anboor. They slowly cast their eyes downwards, saying, “Sit down. I can’t talk to you for long right now, but, sit down. Please.”
The air left Toraph and Anboor's lungs in a way Anshumat could only perceive with his sense of essence. The brothers tried and failed to hide their dread from them. Still, Anboor leant down to sit and Toraph slowly followed.
Neither of them looked directly at Anshumat.
Drawing a shaky breath, Anshumat knelt and said, “He.. When we came to a horde of monsters, he ran in. I tried to get him out, but.. He refused to retreat. He refused to leave.” They shook their head, pausing, “I tried. He didn’t make it. I killed a dozen in return, but he.. Didn’t make it. I’m sorry.”
Toraph asked quietly. "Why? Why'd he refuse?"
The demigod simply said, “I didn’t explain the situation clearly enough. He was confused. I failed, and broke my word. I’m sorry. His refusal came out of bravery -- but, I didn’t explain well enough. And he died because of it.”
Toraph struggled to hoist himself up to his feet, his nose pointed low and his eyes almost closed. "It's...okay." He listlessly turned around and took two steps before his essence overflowed up his neck, cheeks, and eyes. Anboor was able to keep himself relatively composed by some small miracle, enough to scramble up and wrap his arms around Toraph before the young selka's legs gave out from under him. He tried to push Anboor away but Anboor held on fast.
There were no more words from Toraph, only tears and sobbing muffled by his brother's chest, made between wheezing inward breaths as if resisting it all.
Anboor turned his head to Anshumat again, revealing his own silent tears running from his eyes. "I want to ask you more about what happened," he said. "Not stupid questions this time like I usually ask. But...later. Sorry."
With his brother still in his embrace, Anboor turned around and walked away. Toraph barely kept his feet from dragging lines in the dirt behind them.
Anshumat watched them go before returning their gaze downwards as they walked towards the chieftain's hut.
The selka of the village that had overheard their confession watched Anshumat carefully. Around them, the news travelled through the small group faster than they were walking. All eyes were on the demigod.
The demigod entered the chieftain’s hut silently, and for several hours nobody emerged.
Within the confines of the chieftain's hut, Reph, Anshumat, the chief, and his advisors discussed the next moves. Anshumat drew out diagrams of their boulder-thrower, spoke about the tribes and agriculture, and answered questions and sceptics alike. The Chieftain was stubborn, but eventually Anshumat’s ideas did convince him. It was better than nothing, after all.
When all of them emerged from the hut, the sun was low in the sky. Most of the tribe was finishing up for the day or enjoying the last moments of dinner.
Off to Anshumat's left, a pair of k'nights spoke in hushed whispers. It was Humat the Spiritual, the soft-spoken warrior with a keen insight and an answer to every question, standing beside a nervous looking Phialu, now back -- or retrieved -- from wherever she had run off to. Humat pointed to Anshumat and spoke a few words to Phialu. Phialu turned around to look at Anshumat, hesitated, and then walked towards them. She clutched her arm while she moved.
Standing before Anshumat, she took three small breaths before she could say a word. Her fists were clenched pale. "...Anshumat. How...how did the meeting go?"
Anshumat looked to Phialu, saying, “Well. I convinced the chieftain, and after a day’s rest every K’night except Takos and I will be heading out to bring the tribes together. We’ll be preparing new defences.”
She looked up, surprised. "Oh, all of us?" She bowed her head. "Shit. Shit, shit!" she hissed. She took a deeper breath and exhaled slowly through pouted lips. "Okay…" She looked up at Anshumat's face again. "Anshumat, I need your help. And if I have to leave tomorrow, it's gotta be tonight or...soon." The corners of her eyes shrunk. "I want to apologise to Wassamuttu's brothers, i-it was my fault he ran after me, I should have followed Reph and Gralph's order, I'm…" Fresh tears ran down her cheeks. "...I heard you and Toraph are acquainted, so…"
Anshumat slowly closed their eyes, saying, “It wasn’t your fault. You did what you thought best. You couldn’t have accounted for what happened. I can help you talk to them, just.. It wasn’t your fault, okay?”
Phialu sneered at herself, avoiding Anshumat's eyes again. She swiftly wiped her face clean. "I...still have to face them. I would appreciate the help."
“Come on, then, I have to talk to them anyways. It’s best we do it soon.” Anshumat responded, briefly looking for Toraph and Anboor before beginning to walk over to them.
"W-? Now!?" Phialu realised it was originally her suggestion as soon as the word came out of her mouth. "Damn it, damn it…" she hurried to catch up with the demigod's lanky stride.
The brothers' hut was a simple stick and mud affair, just like most of the dwellings in the village. It was squat enough for Anshumat to look over the top of its dome-like shape and wide enough for at least five to sleep comfortably, but they could only see one selka within. The back of Toraph's head was visible where he slept by the light of the fire out the front, tended to by a sitting and exhausted-looking Anboor hunched with a poking stick in one hand. He looked tiredly up at Anshumat and Phialu as they approached.
“Do you and your brother have some time to talk?” Anshumat asked Anboor.
Phialu clasped her hands.
Anboor's eyes turned back down to the fire. His lips twitched and he slowly craned his head across to check on Toraph. He was still softly sleeping. He then looked up at Anshumat. "Yeah," he said, a little hoarsely. "I can talk. Toraph'll join if he feels like it."
“Phialu was there when it happened. She wanted to talk to you two about it.” Anshumat followed up.
Anboor's attention went to Phialu.
Phialu waited for a moment before realising that Anboor was not going to say anything in response. She awkwardly sat down at the fire.
"I…" She tried.
Anboor remained listening.
Phialu exhaled. "I don't know how to say this. I'm not a...words person."
"Just speak," Anboor said. "I'm too tired to get angry or sad or whatever."
Phialu glanced nervously. "I really liked Wass." She flushed at her choice of words. It was too late now. "I...really liked him. He was rash, big-mouthed, full of himself, an idiot. But I liked him."
Anboor stared at the fire again with a frown.
"I wanted to admit to both of you that, when Reph told us to turn around and retreat, I thought I could sneak ahead and find captives with the rock people. I wanted to get a notch on my club." Phialu stared at the fire in turn. "Wass ran after me when I didn't retreat with the others. He was exposed and he was coming after me. I'm sorry."
"Don't be." Toraph's voice croaked out of the hut. He rolled around to look at them all with moistened eyes. "You can be sad if you like, but it's not your place to be guilty. You can't handle both." Toraph sat up. "Uncle told us that when ma and pa died. Don't be sorry, Phialu."
As Toraph crawled out of the hut to sit by the fire with his knees drawn up, Anboor nodded upwards and sniffed. "Yeah," Anboor added. "It sounds like you liked each other. He told us he thought you were cute."
Phialu let out a single sad laugh. "...Shit," she whispered. Eventually, her hands went up and covered her lowered face.
"You can sit with us, too, Anshumat," Anboor said.
Anshumat slowly sat down in front of the fire, saying, “If only busy days weren’t bearing down on us.”
Anboor lifted a knee and rested his elbow on it. "I heard what's going on from a couple of the k'nights. Kyko and Phassam. You say busy days, but busy doing what? Even they weren't sure what's next."
“The K’nights will be heading out to the other tribes, to bring them to the defense. As for the rest of us, myself and Takos included, will remain here. We’ll be experimenting with a lot of new things nobody has ever built before, and new concepts few have tried -- Toraph being one of those few.” Anshumat answered, taking a stick and tending the fire.
They continued, “We can’t just stab the beasts coming for the tribe. I’ve been devising a new weapon to smash them, but we’ll need the entire tribe if we are to pull it off. We need to clear out woodland and flatten fields as well. After that, that’s where Toraph comes in.”
"What am I supposed to do?" Toraph tilted his head.
Anshumat looked over to Toraph, “Your plants may be what saves us all. Once we bring in all the tribes, hunting and gathering isn’t going to cut it for long. We’ll need much more readily available food in much greater quantities. Something your beans promise.”
Toraph was stunned.
Anboor leant forward. "What do you mean 'all the tribes'?"
Anshumat turned back to look at Anboor, saying, “All of them. Every one we can find up and down the coast, and inland. More Selka than any of us have ever seen in one place before.”
Toraph leant his forehead on his hand. "I'm gonna need to grow a lot more beans…"
The demigod followed up, “And you won’t be doing it alone. You’ll have help. More help than you could ever imagine once the tribes are gathered.”
Anboor had to stop to even imagine it. "I only met a few people from other tribes before. Some of 'em are kinda mean, but...you're k'nights, so if anyone can do it, it would be you guys."
"Hey Anboor," Toraph piped up. "You think you could get the village together like you did when the chief's house blew over in the storm? You were good at getting everyone thinking the same way and rebuilding it better. Maybe they'd follow you doing what Anshumat's said?"
"Oh, I guess," Anboor side-eyed Anshumat. "We had a bad storm while you were away. We've had some practice working together and all that. If you need trees down, land cleared, help building things that you'll be trying out, I can help."
Anshumat nodded. “I could use that help. I would be honored if you could do that for me. We don’t have a lot of time, and any advantage we can get will go a long way.”
"And I'll...try to be a words person with the other tribes," Phialu said. "Maybe I'll just try to protect Reph and let him do the talking-"
A splash like a mighty wave crashing thundered over towards the beach, drawing everyone's attention. There was not a strong swell the last time they laid eyes on the water. At least not strong enough to cause so much noise.
The sound of shouting selka from the village brought Anboor and Phialu to their feet. The four of them jogged and joined the swiftly growing crowd to investigate.
In the blue twilight glowing over the sand was a long shape with two flippers, streaming dark blood from wounds across its blubbery body. Yimbo pulled its way up from the shore with pained and deep whimpers.
It was Anboor that broke ahead to run up to the massive creature, prompting a few other brave selka to follow. He only had to take a quick look before standing on his toes and crying out. "It's hurt!" He assertively pointed out one of the tribesfolk. "Maliph, get old lady Rema and her herbs! All of them! And something to stop the bleeding!"
Anshumat trailed behind, unsure of what to do -- they were no healer. They looked over the scene, before charging back to the village to help Maliph with carrying herbs once they had gotten Rema.
They carried back all they could carry. It was all the old selka healer had aside from herself. Rema looked over the weeping red punctures and lacerations across Yimbo's giant body with a look of hurt and dismay. Yimbo's body rose and fell with staggered, pained breathing.
"What do you say, Rema?" Anboor finally asked.
"Old Yimbo is struck low," she said without looking away from the wounds. "I can treat him, but any selka with the same cuts except to their size need be far too strong to survive." The old healer peered up to the crowd from her low hunched back. "This is beyond my skill. Beyond my power."
The crowd whispered and hushed to one another in response. A child began to cry.
Everyone was scared but Takos the Clever. The k'night clutched his own chin and looked strongly into the space in front of him. "There is a tribe downbeach," he began. "A tribe blessed by a goddess of light. The stories say they can heal anything."
Anshumat looked at Takos, questioning, “How quickly could you reach that tribe?”
"Me?" He held his chin back against his neck. "Depends how long it takes to find it. I don't know where it is, exactly." He shook his head. "Besides, Reph told me to build your throwing thing."
"We are many k'nights still," Reph stepped up from behind the crowd. "It is easy enough to follow rumours and we are already bound to strike out to make alliances. A group of us can try to find these blessed healers."
Anshumat looked back to Old Yimbo, putting their hand on the seal as they said to Reph and the healer, “Rema, I know you cannot heal Old Yimbo fully, but would it be within your power to ease their suffering?"
Rema nodded solemnly. "I shall do what I can."
Anshumat continued, “Reph, put together the swiftest team of K’nights you can. Think not just how far they can travel, but how well they can track.” They turned back to the K’nights. “A speedy group is of no use if we cannot track down that tribe. I’ll help Rema tend to Old Yimbo, can you get such a group moving as soon as possible?”
Reph breathed in, grunted, and then spoke from the corner of his mouth. "Phialu, Yim, Phorea. Step up."
Yim the Brief was a master archer, Phorea the Keen was an expert scout. Phialu stepped up last with a look of confusion on her face.
"Phialu," Reph said. "You are a follower of Kalumar, correct?"
Phialu lowered her brow. "My family all are."
"You will lead the way for Yim and Phorea. You will go downbeach to find the healers."
"...I...don't understand, I'm not-"
"Your title is 'the Determined One!'" Reph jabbed a finger onto Phialu's collarbone. "You will be the last to fail on this mission, understand?"
Phialu took a moment of wide-eyed shock. Her gaze went to Anshumat.
Anshumat simply shook their head, saying to Phialu, “He’s right. If the tribe is hidden well enough, it would be your determination that would see the mission through.”
She gazed ahead, blinked down, and felt for her bow over her shoulder. "Okay, I'll do it."
We start the morning after we left off. Phialu and Anshu wake up in a cave together with a great deal of regret between them: They could have been banging but they decided to mope about Wassamuttu dying instead. Granted, Anshumat was heavily wounded.
Anshumat is determined to make sure the Ihokhurs don't wreck everything, though, so they decide to catch up with rest of the retreating k'nights by swimming down river. The current pets them gain plenty of ground and they reunite with the k'nights. Everyone is sad about Gralph and Wass as neither of them returned.
Kreekh, the friendly Ihokhetlani, chills and continues to chill as he follows along.
They get back to the river mouth tribe really fast using the river and Kirron's blessing.
When they get out of the river, Reph (the second in command after Gralph) confesses to Anshu and Takos (smartass k'night) that he doesn't have an answer to fighting stone big bois.
Anshumat comes up with the crazy idea to get a whole bunch of surrounding tribes together, feed them with farmed food, and build catapults to smash the Ihokhurs. Reph is sceptical at first but he doesn't have any better ideas.
Anyway, Anshumat breaks the bad news to Toraph and Anboor. They sad.
Plans are drawn up with the chief of the tribe.
There's an emotional scene with Anshu, Toraph, Anboor, and Phialu where they grieve. Toraph and Anboor seem too exhausted to keep grieving, being that they have a history of family death.
The conversation turns to the immediate future. Turns out Anboor got a lot better at leading people in the couple of weeks the k'nights were gone, so he's going to rally the tribe to help out with preparing things. Toraph is also going to have to step up his innovation game.
Then there's a sploosh: Yimbo drags itself up onto the beach, heavily wounded after fighting Ihokhurs. Anboor gets a healer. Healer says not good. Takos says he's heard of the tribe with Asceal's healing magic.
Reph orders Phialu to lead a couple of k'nights to find the healing magic tribe and get them on side quick-smart because Phialu is determined and needs redemption in the narrative n' stuff.
Anshumat gives a thumbs-up.
To be continued.
Before: K'nights of Red Horizon, "The War Singers", "Who Have Faced Death and Lived" - 8 Prestige - 12 Members
+1: Minor role +1: Major role +1: Collaboration
After: K'nights of Red Horizon, "The War Singers", "Who Have Faced Death and Lived" - 11 Prestige - 12 Members
Fendros brought his arm up around to stroke Ahnasha's head and kiss her above her eyes. "I'm sure I have at least three of those traits already. I should quickly find the rest with us working together. You might even find them for yourself before I do. Either way..." He smiled briefly. "With how you put it, it won't be easy. But that's better than thinking it's doomed. Thank you, Ahna."
He lowered his hand to her shoulder and held her close.
Fendros broke into a grin. "I don't doubt that, Ahna," he said, holding back a laugh. "But being a pivotal part of this venture -- not least of which building a gate to the Hunting Grounds themselves...That might serve an adequate second place."
His mischievous tone was short lived as he breathed a sigh. "You are right that dwelling on the past is not exactly useful. The future, though, might have the same thoughts applied. Who's after Meesei? And after that successor? Will Hircine always find champions that look favourably upon a peaceful future for lycans?" He frowned. "Some might see it as becoming...tame, domesticated. I'm not afraid that Meesei could have been a Vykosa, but that a Vykosa could replace her some day."
Epoch 3.7 Timespan: 55 to 110 years since the Soul Heist (No advancement from last turn)
It is now the fourth age, where each got gets 8 Free Points per turn.
The Architect is impressed by the acitvity of the gods so far. He waits with ever-bated breath as the buds of civilization just start to open, but he is impatient to see the garden bloom before him. Use those free points!
This is the Age of Lords. The chaos of the wilds is still a terror to the mortal folk of Galbar, but as they grew, it has also become a challenge. The lands are ripe for the birth of civilizations, great and small. The start of a mighty empire may require only the smallest boon from a god or two. The Architect awaits the blossoming of the worshipping peoples with anticipation.
This Age, FP can be used for the following acts:
Create an Artefact (Limit 2 each, must be left in the hands of mortals)
Create a monument (Limit 1 each, must be on Galbar)
Form a holy order
Teach an idea or technology
Bestow a one-time gift to mortals beyond their ability to craft
Bless or Curse (Groups of mortals only)
New act: 1 FP - Create an impressive and/or fantastical landmark or piece of architecture (Limited to the size of a large citadel or a small town, give or take. Basically a variant of the one-time gift above)
PLEASE MAKE USE OF THE MP SPREADSHEET!
Source Spreadsheet, updateable for your record keeping convenience: docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1r2eSo… Thank you to everyone who kept their rows up to date on this page. It has made the process much easier for me! As a reminder, please update the 'link to last MP update' with your own posts to make the turn changing process quicker and easier :)
GODS
Player - Name - Portfolios - MP - FP - MP @ last turn - FP @ last turn - MP Income
Slime - Abanoc - Recording - 22 - 23 - 17 - 15 - 5 <The GMs may have forgotten about your previous hoarding, but the Architect has not...>
Fendros hummed in agreement. "Yes, that woman does have a lot of practice burning candles from both ends," he said. "Though here, after seeing Jerrick after all this time...she's working as if holding the candle over an open bonfire." He chuckled to himself before turning and taking a seat next to Ahnasha on one of the huge stone blocks consigned for the great gate.
He had not quite figured out if the stars appearing in the sky were the same as those visible from Tamriel. He leant back and breathed out as he looked up at them.
He spoke on with one eye squinted. "You know, meeting that Vykosa woman made me realise something. It could have been someone like her leading us. Someone vengeful and cruel. Violent people can be that way, very often. And all it would take is someone physically or magically strong enough. Instead, our leader is someone we can call a friend." He smiled. "How different we all are for that."
I don't know what you have in mind next, but I have something for Fendros and Ahnasha to have a quick back-and-forth on. I also imagine the pack will want to take their dinner together if there's anything to add there.
[center][youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HPjJCVylFBo[/youtube][/center]
[quote=Michael Leunig. The Curly Pyjama Letters.]
Dear Mr Curly,
I have done little travelling lately because I have been so dreadfully weary. Can it be true as the old Ecclesiastes said; that all things lead to weariness? Surely not. Perhaps the opposite is true: that all [u]nothings[/u] lead to weariness. I have a peculiar feeling, Curly, that [u]I[/u] am worn out from something I haven't yet done and the more I don't do it, the more exhausted I become. How strange. Could it be something I haven't realised? Perhaps it's something I haven't said? Something I haven't finished! It must be very large and true whatever it is and a lively struggle in the doing but I look forward to it immensely. I know I need it. First, however, I must curl up in my chair and sleep deeply with the duck. Perhaps I'll dream of this thing and wake up refreshed and do it. My fond wishes to you Mr. Curly, and to all Curly Flat.
Yours sleepily,
Vasco Pyjama
xxx
P.S. Not having breakfast can make you weary. That's for sure!
[/quote]
<div style="white-space:pre-wrap;"><div class="bb-center"><iframe src="//youtube.com/embed/HPjJCVylFBo?theme=dark" frameborder="0" width="496" height="279" allowfullscreen></iframe></div><br><br><blockquote class="bb-quote">Dear Mr Curly,<br>I have done little travelling lately because I have been so dreadfully weary. Can it be true as the old Ecclesiastes said; that all things lead to weariness? Surely not. Perhaps the opposite is true: that all <span class="bb-u">nothings</span> lead to weariness. I have a peculiar feeling, Curly, that <span class="bb-u">I</span> am worn out from something I haven't yet done and the more I don't do it, the more exhausted I become. How strange. Could it be something I haven't realised? Perhaps it's something I haven't said? Something I haven't finished! It must be very large and true whatever it is and a lively struggle in the doing but I look forward to it immensely. I know I need it. First, however, I must curl up in my chair and sleep deeply with the duck. Perhaps I'll dream of this thing and wake up refreshed and do it. My fond wishes to you Mr. Curly, and to all Curly Flat.<br>Yours sleepily,<br>	Vasco Pyjama<br>	xxx<br>P.S. Not having breakfast can make you weary. That's for sure!<footer>Michael Leunig. The Curly Pyjama Letters.</footer></blockquote></div>
Frettzo
Damycles
Antarctic Termite
headintheclouds
Forsythe
Master EffeX
Hokum
Vec