STATUS:
Sorry for my lack of posts lately. I've just... been struggling to get the energy to write something up. I'm trying some new meds through so hopefully that will change soon.
9 yrs ago
Current
Sorry for my lack of posts lately. I've just... been struggling to get the energy to write something up. I'm trying some new meds through so hopefully that will change soon.
The ability to travel via the river while carrying much more then a rattus could normally carry had been a boon to their people. It also made the journey between the pockets of rattus settlements all the quicker and easier as well. But it had come with a danger that no one could have predicted. A deadly one, as it turned out.
Of the rattus that had been aboard the water craft, only Lutreolus had escaped and made it safely back onto land. While someone might have looked at the curled up, shivering female who was muttering so quickly and quietly under her breath that individual words couldn't be made out and seen a scared, simple being Raethel knew for a fact that Lutreolus was anything but. Of the rattus people, she had been among the first wave of settlers to go and make their first outpost, having proven herself as one of the best and intelligent of their people. To see her reduced to such a sorry state was... haunting. Turning to Lutreolus' attendant Bonthain, Raethel's tone was soft as he asked "Has she revealed anything that happened yet?"
Bonthain shook their head as he softly squeaked "If she has, I haven't been able to understand it. She's just... she's just been speaking nonsense since she was brought here. Any signs of her companions?" was asked hopefully... but that hope quickly fled from the look in Raethel's eyes.
"We have found... pieces of them. Alongside chunks of their water craft." There was a pause... before "I don't know if it was just the fate of one of them or all of them... It's just... It's an utter mess." The room seemed to feel colder as both of them joined Lutreolus in shivering at the chill that ran down their spines.
"Do... Do you think it might have been the Pretenders?" A nervous twitch of the tail and physically having to restrain themselves from rubbing his whiskers was more then enough to betrayal the fears lingering in Bonthain's mind... and Raethel felt truly terrible that he couldn't lay them to rest.
"I don't know. It's possible but there isn't enough evidence of what happened to say for sure. We need her to tell us what happened. But..." Both of them glanced at Lutreolus in her current, somewhat pitiful condition. Physically, there had been nothing wrong with her but it was clear that whatever had happened on the river had inflicted a terrible wound to her all the same. Death as a concept was something that the rattus understood for they had witnessed it in animals around them before, as well as stories of their ancestors and the ghost of memories of their time prior to understanding what and who they were, but this was the first time that any member of the rattus people had died since the change. It had not been a peaceful death either.
Taking a few nervous steps towards the shaken rattus, Raethel knelt down in front of her... and was soft and gentle as he reached out to cup her face to tilt her head towards him as he asked "[color=brown]Lutreolus... can you hear me?[color]" Lutreolus for their part continued their non stop drivel of words... but despite the glazed look in her eyes that suggested that she wasn't currently present in the moment mentally, physically she slowly nodded her head. "Lutreolus... what happened on the river? We need to know so that we can take steps to make sure that it doesn't happen again."
For her part, Lutreolus had been muttering for so long that the moment she stopped doing it, the silence left behind actually felt strange. The glazed look remained but... there was a scrunching of her face that suggested that she was actually trying to focus, trying to figure out a way to describe and put an answer into words. "W-We were... We were making our way back up river after visiting some friends. We were just passing by a small bend when Muridae pointed... pointed at something in the water..." Her breathing grew heavy as Raethel could feel her heart start to beat quickly... too quickly.
"Lutreolus, it's over. You're safe now. You're in one of the barrows..." He tried, hoping to calm her enough to stop her from panicking and shutting down again... and it worked in the sense that she was only crying rather then devolved completely into panic and terror.
"It... It came out of the water. Water sprayed everywhere as it just closed its mouth and just... tore our craft in half as we all ended up in the water. They... They were screaming in fear and pain and all I could do was bend the water to help me swim to shore fast enough to get away..." She muttered quickly, her tone easily suggesting that she was getting lost in her own mind again before she got to the part that mattered to Raethel at the moment.
"What did? Lutreolus, what came out of the-"
"One of those... One of those things we haven't named yet. The big, silly looking gray things without fur that we've seen walking around and swimming on the other side of the river. The ones with the huge mouths and silly looking teeth!" Lutreolus squeaked out in a panic... before she started to softly squeak and mumble under her breath again as she retreated completely into her own mind again.
Raethel... didn't bother trying to drag her back out of her mind at the moment. Just getting this much information out of her had been taxing on her and she deserved a chance to rest. The creatures she spoke of though... it didn't make sense from what they had witnessed of them. Such creatures had been spied on the other side of the river, or swimming within it at times but... after some observation it was pretty clear they simply ate plants. They had no interest in meat or hunting for prey, observed by them passing by several types of fish and animals walking along the opposite bank of the river nearby that they just ignored.
But despite how shaken and in need of time to recover Lutreolus was, Raethel was inclined to believe her. Their craft had been completely smashed to pieces and the other rattus aboard... as he had said before there had only been bits and pieces of them left, but despite that they clearly hadn't been eaten by whatever had killed them. That... that was in a way the worst part of it in his mind; It would have been one thing if it had turned out that they had fallen prey to a predator that was striving to feed itself and possibly its offspring but these gray beasts... if what Lutreolus had said was true, they had attacked and tore apart his people without warning solely for the sake of killing them in a brutal fashion.
Letting Lutreolus go and walking back to Bonthain, Raethel placed a paw on his shoulder as he softly said "[color=brown]Look after her as best you can. I'll get someone to help you out shortly."
Accepting the comforting gesture, Bonthain was curious as he asked in return "What are you going to do?"
Raethel took a deep breath... before answering with a level voice "First, I'm going to warn our people of this unexpected threat. This situation is already bad enough as it is, I don't want to lose anyone else because they didn't know that these... these water monsters are highly dangerous, despite their silly appearance. Second... I'm going to find out who else was on that craft with Lutreolus when they set out. We... we need to know who died out there." Despite trying to put on a brave face, there was sorrow in Raethel's eyes that was easy to see. Just as it was easy to see that sorrow and pain turn into something sharp and hot as he finished "After that... we're going to call our people together and we're going to work out how to rid ourselves of this threat. This river is ours. It is our birthright to be able to travel along it in safety... and I will not allow some overgrown, tubby water monster challenge that right!"
Catching his rising, angry tone, Raethel closed his eyes for a moment as he squeezed Bonthain's shoulder firmly... and then let it go as he walked towards the entrance of the room and into the tunnels of the barrow proper. There was work to do.
Traveling via water craft on the river has become a major thing for the rattus people, helping trade and making it quicker and easier for them to get to each other. But it also has its dangers.
In the aftermath of a brutal attack on one of the water craft that cost a currently unknown number of rattus their lives, Raethel speaks with Bonthain, the caretaker of the only survivor of the attack that has clearly been traumatized by what happened to her friends and comrades on the boat. Coming to the conclusion that there was only one person who could tell them what actually happened, Raethel softly coaxes Lutreolus into speaking about what happened to her out there.
While recounting the story clearly takes its toil on Lutreolus, she manages to reveal that the assault was carried out by one of the hippos that lived on the other side of the river, which the rattus had observed from a distance for some time and hadn't come up with a name for yet. Considering that observations proved that the animals ate plants and general left other animals in peace, the sudden and shocking brutal nature of the attack on their people (alongside the evidence from the pieces of the victims gathered suggesting that they had not been eaten by the attacker) this attack is completely surprising and makes absolutely no sense.
Naming the creatures water monsters in the rattus native tongue, Raethel revels his plans on what he intends to do to Bonthain before getting to work: Warning their people about the true nature of the water monsters, finding out just who was with Lutreolus on the doomed water craft and calling a gathering of the rattus in order to deal with the threat challenging their control of the river.
Start: 3
+1 for being apart of a post for longer then a line. +1 for being the main character/focus on the post. +1 for medium length.
Still working on the quest to see all Rattus are named.
As the heat of the sky returned and chased away the cool darkness that had lingered on the sands, Raethel sighed softly to himself as he quietly watched the Rattus that had followed him out to investigate the monsters that had assaulted the Rattus outpost skittered around, performing what last minute tasks they needed to do in order to prepare for the trip back to where they had started while he sat and watched the river flow by.
It wasn't a dangerous trip traveling between the outposts where Rattus life had claimed as their strong holds while they strove to claim more ground and resources... at least it wasn't, but the presence of the Pretenders going forward might change things. Scampering from one outpost to the next was just time consuming... and the heat of the sky and the chill of the shadows held their own discomforts that made the journeys more taxing.
Moving resources was also proving difficult. Currently if a Rattus wanted to take something from one outpost to the next, it had to be carried either by paw or on their backs. While there were Rattus among their people who were naturally blessed with the physical strength and endurance to bare greater loads then their peers, this did not change the fact that there was a sharp limitation to how much could be transported by a band of Rattus in a single trip. Not to mention that while Raethel himself could make such trips without needing to much in the way of supplies, the other Rattus tended to require having some of their carry capacity dedicated to things such as prepared food for their own personal usage. There had to be a better way to travel...
By happenstance, Raethel lazily watched as one of the plants that grew beside the river floated by on the flow, slowly heading towards where the river met the endless water where the land ended... and as it did so an idea started to form in Raethel's head. There was some difficulty in seeing just what the end result would look like, but while he wanted for his escort to be prepared the First of the Rattus started to gather some of the river plants that he knew for a fact floated and... experimented a little. A single plant would never be able to hold the weight of anything on top of itself... but maybe if several plants were bound together like the Rattus did as a people...
The thing that Raethel created was crude, was barely big enough that one paw needed to be dedicated to carrying it and artistically... it wasn't pleasing to the eye. But when he carefully placed it in the waters of the river and stopped it from floating away by using his tail as an obstruction, it floated just fine. Even when he started to place pebbles on it, it continued to float... through one stone to many caused it to flip over and dunk all the stones into the river, even as the object itself remained floating while upside down. But the concept was clearly workable.
Of course the whole thing needed to be refined, made bigger and issues such as it flipping over like that needed to be addressed and solved but no idea was made fully formed from the beginning. It was a solid start through... and there were a lot more of these plants back where they were heading.
Raethel himself got involved with the process of developing his idea whenever possible, but his duties as leader of the Rattus and the mandate from their absent co-creator to see that all the Rattus had names ensured that they didn't have as much time to focus on any individual project as he might have liked. However, like with many things he didn't need to do it all by himself. Once he had gotten back to the birthplace of his people, Raethel had dug a hole down in the tunnels away from the heat of the sky, filled it with some water and placed his example into it in order to show his vision to others.
Time and again, Raethel saw a spark of something in the eyes of his fellow Rattus as they gazed upon his floating creation. Their minds had never considered this possibility before, but now that the possibility had been shown to them it was as if a wall had been knocked down and a wave of ideas on how to make this floating marvel actually work for the benefit of the Rattus surged forth without an end in sight.
Groups of Rattus had formed around different attempts at making a proper, Rattus sized version of his creation. It was something to be apart of in ones spare time when other duties were done. There was something of a competition between the different bands... a friendly rivalry that sort to drive all taking part onward. The best way to witness this friendly rivalry in action was when they were testing each others designs and attempts to work around issues like the water craft flipping over; While they were utterly unforgiving in their process of testing and seemed bent on doing everything possible to expose some new flaw that a method to solve an existing problem had created, it was clear to all involved that this wasn't happening out of hostility.
While the first group to get a successful working method out onto the river would win their little contest, no one wanted that victory to be undercut by some fatal flaw that should have been spotted and wasn't causing the whole thing to fall apart and endanger someone's life. So the cycle repeated over the course of days... weeks... until at last something was pushed onto the river from the bank.
Raethel couldn't help but grin as he watched from the river bank as a small team of Rattus on board their craft bent the waters of the river in order to push themselves against the flow and heading upriver at a respectable pace... and clearly carrying as much weight as a traveling band three times their number would be required on board next to themselves.
The grin on Raethel's face was filled with pride as he reached up to wipe a tear that had been forming in their eye away. It might have been a simple thing, but it was the dawn of a new era all the same.
Raethel ponders the issues of transportation and travel across land and feels like a better means is possible. Spying a reed float past in the river, inspiration strikes the First of the Rattus as he develops a quick crude prototype toy boat out of river reeds in order to test the idea and concept.
Happy with the idea but unable to dedicate as much time as he would like to working on scaling it up and dealing with the issues and flaws of his original design due to leadership requirements, Raethel showcases his idea to other Rattus in order to inspire and challenge their minds... and accept the challenge they did.
After several weeks of dedicated hard work and testing, the first Rattus reed skiff successfully takes to the river. While a simple design, it is a successful one... and is now the first foundation block of future river and possibly ocean traveling designs and aspirations.
Start: 8
+1 for being apart of a post for longer then a line. +1 for being the main character/focus on the post. +1 for medium length.
-8 For introducing a new technology to the Rattus people (Boats)
Still working on the quest to see all Rattus are named.
In the end, it took the better part of two days for news of the 'incident' at the border outpost to reach Raethel's ears and for the leader of the Rattus to make his way to said outpost in order to see the results of it for himself.
The corpse of the strange, insect like creature had dried out after two days on the surface, battered by the wind and scorched by the light and heat of the sky as the Rattus at the outpost hadn't wanted to bring the wretched thing underground into their tunnels. While this did have the benefit of making it so that the body didn't have much in the way of an odor to it and, if they were so inclined, would likely make transport of it all the easier... beyond the fact that it proved the existence of an outside threat there was little else to be gained.
An examination of the corpse had failed to revel whatever trickery that its injured partner had used to try and mimic the Rattus form, suggesting some form of magic that the creatures used... through the eye witness account from a slightly shaken by recovering Annandale raised the question of if it that was a trick that all of them could do, or if it was something only certain members of the species could perform. The debate on the matter was inconclusive, since what tactics the monsters had employed to stage their ambush would have likely played out exactly the same regardless of if the dead bug monster had the ability to make itself look like a Rattus or not.
The fact that the creature had sacks that were apart of its body that seemed to be filled with blood that had dried up in the heat of the sky that had very clearly been a different color and texture then what had spilled out of its fatal wounds the night it died gave a pretty grim look into what exactly the pair of 'Pretenders' as the local Rattus had started to call them had been after. Still, the general unease and panic of the situation was kept relatively minor all things considered; Annandale had gotten herself out of the situation alive and uninjured, if deeply frightened. No Rattus had been harmed, one of the Pretenders was dead and the other badly injured enough to have been faltering even before other Rattus had scampered to join the fray... and they discovered a major flaw in the Pretender's otherwise convincing trickery in that the winds of mana revealed them for what they were.
This was by all accounts the best possible outcome that Raethel could see the situation having gone. The whole situation could have very easily gone a lot worse for Annandale and the outpost. But Raethel would have been a fool not to acknowledge the warning for what it was. The Pretender that fled might take the defeat and loss of its kin as a sign never to return here or it might harbor a grudge and seek vengeance in the future, but regardless of its personal actions it was doubtful that these two where the only members of their kind out there. They would have to account for that fact going forward but, just the knowledge they did have on the matter so far would likely prove highly valuable in what alterations needed to be made.
Aethel's arrival at the outpost was not as enlightening as Raethel might have hoped. Their creator appeared, inspected the body of the Pretender, walked up to Annandale and then gave her a headpat before saying "Well done." and refusing to comment of anything about the Pretender that they hadn't already discovered for themselves.
Despite his personal frustrations, the answer that Raethel had received when he pushed the matter with Aethel had caused him to look at his creators in a light he hadn't considered before. "This is a mortal matter Raethel. When myself and my brother created the Rattus, we put into your being the tools and ability to survive and thrive in this world... and one of those tools is the ability to discover new information and make choices based upon it. To that end, while I cannot speak for my siblings, I will generally not get involved in situations I believe you are more then able to handle by your own paws, intelligence and wit."
Once the Pretender's corpse was tossed onto a fire in order to be destroyed, Aethel had stayed at the outpost only long enough for everyone to sit around the fire and tell the story of their ancestry. The tale of the first pair of rats to be brought into existence. From their creation by the Lord of the Hunt, the sacrifice of the first male in order to create the mana winds of death, the bargain the original female struck with the Lord of the Hunt and the results of that. At which point their colorful creator politely excused themself and disappeared upriver.
This left Raethel and the outpost Rattus with much to ponder as they helped themselves to an early dinner on the surface, watching as the sky lost its heat in order to let its lesser lights take over. It was during this meal that a discussion began that would alter the view of the Rattus' original creator of the Lord of the Hunt for generations afterwards.
"You know what I don't quite understand?" Yuri softly asked as she gazed up at the sky and its distant wonders. "The Lord of the Hunt intentionally sent a Hawk in order to spy on Mother Rat as she did as he asked and stole from the Tree of Harmony... and then rewards the Hawk for being 'loyal and upstanding' when it reveals that Mother Rat took a branch for herself while she was there. Why? There was no great test of skill, no means for the Hawk to actually prove its loyalty to the Lord of the Hunt. Had the Rat Mother not taken an extra branch or been honest about taking two, would the Hawk have been lifted up by the Lord of the Hunt for confirming her story, or was the Hawk only chosen as the Lord of the Hunt's favored solely to further degrade Mother Rat? "
There was quiet around the fire for a few moments as the Rattus considered her statements and chewed their food... before at last Raethel answered her. "You make some very good points. I mean... why did the Lord of the Hunt even send the Hawk to spy on Mother Rat to begin with? Did he not trust her to do as he asked if it meant she would have children? And you're absolutely right! The Hawk didn't do a damn thing worthy of being praised or promoted as the chosen animal of a god and yet the Lord of the Hunt chose them anyway. I think the Lord of the Hunt just wanted to have the Hawk as a symbolic animal and they set up a situation where they could claim the Hawk proved how good and loyal it was to do so without it looking like the Hawk was selected because it looked nice. The Lord of the Hunt is such a poor judge of character that they wouldn't recognize loyalty if it stopped them from being stabbed in the ass."
There was much laughter and snickering among the Rattus... and it was Yuri who spoke up in her soft voice as she said "Have any of you heard of the story of how the Lord of the Hunt was so distracted by a shiny object in the distance that he walked right into a river?" With a range of snorts and 'no' from her new audience, Yuri grinned widely as she started to weave details into the story she had just made up on the fly. She would not be the only one that night to do so.
Raethel responds to news of an attack on one of the Rattus outposts and goes to investigate, witnessing the corpse of the 'Pretender' as the local Rattus have started to call them. While the examination of said body provided some insight into the nature of the Pretender, too little is known at this stage.
Aethel also arrives, offers the Rattus Annandale a headpat for being a good girl and tells Raethel when questioned to provide further insight into the Pretenders that this was a mortal matter and that they're going to have to figure it out... before Aethel starts telling them stories of the original rats that were the ancestors of the Rattus.
After Aethel leaves to do Aethel things, the Rattus start discussing the story of Mother Rat and the Lord of the Hunt... and come to the conclusion that the Hawk is an out-rated narc that didn't do anything to prove worthy of the praise they got and the Lord of the Hunt is a terrible judge of character... before they start making up stories about the Lord of the Hunt in which they are depicted as unobservant, a terrible judge of character and kind of a paranoid asshole, all of which results in the Lord of the Hunt being the butt of the joke as he foolishly gets into trouble.
Start: 5
+1 for being apart of a post for longer then a line. +1 for being the main character/focus on the post. +1 for medium length.
Still working on the quest to see all Rattus are named. End: 8
It began two nights after they had set up their outpost home within sight of the endless water that the river ran to. It began with a messenger.
Annandale had been on above ground guard duty that night. While the Rattus seemed more inclined towards favoring operating under moon, the desert tended to be rather cold after the sun went down. As such, they tended to favor remaining in their recently constructed barrow structure, working underground where a few key fires could help keep them comfortable... as well as cook on. In fact, Annandale's partners on guard duty had ducked back down into the barrow in order to see if they could get something hot to eat while they guarded the entry way; Singapore had been trying to woo a rather beautiful looking cook since their party had set out and she seemed to return the affections for they had to go in order to get her to offer the food, while Tunney had gone to make sure Singapore actually came back instead of taking some surprise time off to spend with the cook.
While some argued that setting up inside of the entrance would have been a better idea as far as safety and security went, the main reason they were up there was to tend to the fire they had lit on the surface. The idea had originally come from the first outpost to have set themselves up: While they were setting up their barrow, more than one Rattus had misplaced themselves in regards to knowing where the barrow entrance was. As a simple solution to their problem, they took to lighting a fire at the entrance of the barrow at night so that those operating under moon on the surface could more easily find their way back home. It also served as a beacon for future bands of migrants wishing to join them... or a band passing by to create a new outpost further along to stop by and have friends and shelter for a time before moving on.
Of course, if you were going to have a fire going all night you needed someone to tend to it... and because whomever was tending to the surface fire was also going to be the first one to see trouble coming on the surface, they were also on guard duty. Since a single guard on duty was an excuse for something to go horribly wrong and a duo was likely to become a mono if someone felt the need to go relieve themselves or duck instead to send a message or get something, they were meant to tend the fire in trios. As Annandale glanced around by herself, she couldn't help but feel a bit sarcastic in just how wonderfully the system was working.
It was then, with her back to the fire so she could benefit from its warmth but also gaze out into the night easily, that she saw the singular Rattus approach.
The fact that they were alone was something of note to Annandale. While the great Aethel's teachings had been watered down somewhat by the fact that in order to teach more Rattus at once, students that had taken to the teachings had quickly become teachers in their own rights, a simple lesson was that traveling alone was a bad idea. If something bad happened while you were traveling between outposts and you were on your own, you were in a great deal of trouble. They also seemed to be... moving wrong somehow? As if they weren't used to walking comfortably yet.
For a few minutes Annandale considered the possibility that the Rattus coming towards them had been apart of a group that had underwent some kind of trouble and this one had managed to seek help despite being injured... but that faded the closer to the stranger got. They had no signs of injury on them... at least none that bled through the fur. But the wrongness that she had felt earlier only got worse and it had nothing to do with the manner in which they moved. Their mana was... wrong. Every creature, knowingly or not, able to channel or not, interacted with the winds of mana in their own way and this Rattus coming towards her... was not interacting with them in a manner that a Rattus could or should.
The winds were interacting with them as if they were a completely different creature, despite what they appeared to be.
Annandale tried not to physically respond to the fact that she was nervous by this development. This was an unknown situation and... her ear twitched as she heard movement coming from the left. Turning her head ever so slightly as to allow herself to continue watching the approaching figure while trying to see what had made that noise in the corner of her vision. She...didn't make out exactly what it was because it seemed to have partly buried itself in the sand while pushing a bit in front of itself to hide... This was a bad sign. But despite the shivers that were starting to run along her body and cause her tail to start flicking, she tried to make it seem like everything was fine. Just because she was in a bad situation, the fact that she knew it was a lot better then not.
Hopefully, they didn't know she knew something was up... Whomever or whatever they happened to be.
The final sign of trouble came when the fake Rattus finally entered speaking distance, calling out as they continued to draw closer "Have message for the one in charge. Can you direct me to them?" Any true messenger would have known that their outpost was led by Tunneyi, Tunney's older brother had been entrusted with leadership of their group. Names were important and this outside threat wearing the skin of a Rattus didn't understand that.
Afraid for her life as she doubted that this false Rattus and its hidden companion had her or her kins best interests at heart, Annandale calmly reached a paw back as she turned fear into a weapon and pulled on the flames of the fire she was tending before lashing her paw forward and sending a lance of fire directly into the body of the false Rattus. Her final vindication came from the fact that the figure hadn't squeaked out in shock, alarm or pain, it instead unleashed a horrifying, unrattus like noise that she honestly couldn't begin to describe. The Rattus fur seemed to melt off in the flames as some horrifying insect like creature stumbled backwards, trying to put itself out.
The sound of buzzing and sand exploding outwards to her left caused Annandale to act on complete instinct, her left paw thrusting out towards the movement in the corner of her eye even before she was able to completely turn her head towards it. A sharp, blindingly bright twig of hot light surged from her paw and in the span of one of her hearts panicked thumps it covered the distance and slammed into one of the terrifyingly large, insect like eyes (at least she thought it might be an eye. It was on the head after all) of the creature that was flying at her on a pair of buzzing wings and a spear coming out of its face. Her ears folded against her head as a deafening crack roared from the point of impact as the eye exploded into a spray of super hot gore as its owner was flung backwards, their body twitching so violently as it fell backwards onto the desert sand that Annandale had to look away because she didn't want to see it rip itself apart!
The first of the two insect monsters, the one who had been pretending to be a Rattus, quickly regained her attention as it managed to put out the flames and take to the air with a buzzing of wings, the burns easy to see on its body. However, it didn't seem as brave as to rush directly into combat: This was clearly not how it had expected this situation to go. It's deception and ambush had failed, it was injured and its companion was either dead or dying. If she were in its position, Annandale would be considering cutting her losses and running for it too.
She was putting on a show of strength to make it look like she was prepared to throw more fire or another... burning twig of light at it if it decided to charge again, but it truth it was a bluff; That burning light twig had taken a lot out of her and she didn't think she could safely do it again. It if decided to push the assault, she was in trouble.
The tense stand off lasted a few seconds, but its end was heralded by the sound of scampering feet from the barrow entrance behind her. More Rattus were coming, likely to investigate just what the hell the loud noise she had made was. The numbers had turned in her favor... and the bug like creature knew it. With its deafening, horrible buzzing of wings it turned and sped off into the night at speed. The burns must have hurt badly, but since it would have likely died if it stayed it was likely trying to ignore the pain as best it could for now.
As her fellow guards returned from their trip, the food they had brought having been dropped either in surprise by the noise or in the rush to get back to the entrance to find out what was going on and to support her, followed soon by the scampering paws of other Rattus, Annandale turned to look at the bug monster that had failed to escape. It's head and chest weren't moving, but its hands and legs continued to twitch as if parts of the body were still arguing over if it was actually dead or not. The smell... the smell of burnt insect was putrid.
Even as her fellow Rattus started to ask her questions like what had happened, what in Aethel's name was that thing and if she was alright, Annandale started to shake badly. Her breathing grew heavy even as her heart pounded in her chest. On instinct she started to gnaw on one of her arms to try and find some relief from the stress that weighed on her... and finally she bent over to dry heave painfully as tears started to roll down her face.
Annandale the Rattus is currently on flame tending/guard duty for her outpost along the River and within sight of the ocean that it runs to. While there are meant to be others with her, they're on an important supply trip back in the barrow in order to get them something hot to eat while outside during the night.
As a single strange Rattus approaches, several warning bells go off in Annandale's mind as a number of facts don't line up, the key one being that the Rattus coming towards her isn't interacting with the winds of mana like a Rattus and instead comes across as a completely different kind of creature. She also hears something moving into a flanking position to complete the ambush.
As the fake Rattus starts speaking to her, Annandale springs her counter trap and attacks by throwing the fire of the fire she was meant to be tending into the body of the fake, causing it to drop the disguise and revel itself to be some kind of giant insect with a spear for a mouth. The second monster bug launched its attack, only for her to turn and magic up a lightning bolt (even if she doesn't know what lightning is at this time) that struck it in the head and fried its brain while completely destroying one of its eyes, killing it instantly even if its body was going to be twitching a lot for a while.
The original fake Rattus bug monster and Annandale enter a stand off as the former is debating cutting its losses because the situation has gone competely fubar in that the ambush and deceptions failed, its injured and its mate is dead, while Annandale's lightning trick completely tapped her for mana and she doesn't exactly have anything left in the tank to follow up with this last creature, but thankfully it doesn't know that.
The stand off ends as more Rattus rush out of the barrow to support Annandale, tipping the balance to far in her favor and causing the bug monster to flee... at which point Annandale has a complete nervous breakdown because SHE ALMOST DIED AND SHE KILLED SOMETHING!
In the days that followed awakening, much had changed for the Rattus under Raethel's command and Aethel's education. For starters, there were less of them.
While this sounded bad, the truth of the matter was that there simply hadn't been enough resources in the local area to support the entire population of Rattus for an extended period of time and the solution that Raethel and Aethel had come up with was rather simple: While Raethel kept things under control, their creator would search up and down the river to find locations suitable for other settlements of Rattus to go and colonize, spreading their numbers out and putting less pressure on a single given area as far as resources were concerned. As the First of the Rattus, Raethel had taken great care in pushing to teach the required lessons to survive into the population and selecting the bands to be sent out from those who took to those teachings quickly.
So far two bands of settlers had been sent down the river towards the distant mountains, with a third band forming along nicely in order to start heading downriver to start setting up outposts that way. As word had returned of the first two outposts being successfully founded, those who were a bit slower in learning then the first wave had migrated towards them, further easing the numbers that Raethel had needed to manage and provide for, but for any other race it still wouldn't have been enough.
Without Aethel's blessing on their ancestry, Raethel had learned enough in the last few days to understand that there would simply have not been enough food or shelter for his people and those shortages would have lead to... bad things. The faint memory of hunger remained from the days before he discovered he was Raethel and the thought of it on a larger, deeper scale was not a pleasant one. Their new home was also a place of extremes, with the days being capable of great heat while the nights could cut through the fur to the bone with chill. Any other race would have been in trouble, with grave hardship ahead to herald in their first steps on the world.
For the Rattus through, what would have been dire tidings were merely obstructions that required a cunning mind to work around. Shelter was easy enough to create as their natural instincts informed them that the best place to escape from the heat and cold of the surface was underground; They borrowed into the sand a safe distance from the riverbank in order to avoid dampness and flooding, twisting the sand and dirt into a form as solid and trustworthy as stone as they dug in order to secure the barrows they were creating and prevent the tunnels from caving in behind them. Many of these barrows and tunnels were crude things, created with the understanding that those staying within them only intended to do so for a relatively short period of time before they had been deemed suitable to head out towards one of the outposts or be the founders of a new one.
Raethel had noticed some Rattus that seemed to like the birthplace of their kind and, when they somehow found themselves with some spare time during the hectic day, could be found reshaping and reorganizing their personal borrows to be less crude and more pleasant to the senses, as well as comfortable. While he personally was too busy to commit to such a project himself, Raethel honestly had to wonder if he would call this place his primary home at all. While this was where the Rattus came to be, as the First and leader of the Rattus he could already tell that he was going to be moving between the settlements a lot... and that would require him to have a number of smaller barrows in all of them, with a 'primary' home located somewhere more central so he could respond to situations that arose along the river settlements as required... and the fact was that until the period of expansion along the river ended, he didn't know where that important central location was going to be.
Feeding the population was another problem but, thankfully, Rattus brilliance paid off again. While some Rattus favored the taste of meat and dedicated themselves to hunting for beasts of land and air (the latter being hunted by a select few who could bend the winds itself to down their flying targets) and some had taken to fishing for the bounties of the river upon which belonged to their people (and Raethel had to admit, he had proven rather adapt at causing the water to fling fish out of its depths because some of the fish the river provided were rather tasty), it was the plant tenders that proved to be their salvation.
Edible plants and mushrooms located both above and below the ground had been gathered and rather then just consume them, those more attuned to the greener shades of the mana winds had gathered together and concentrated on advancing new growths. What might have taken months or even a year to grow and bare foodstuffs, the plant tenders could make happen within days, if not hours. They were not foolish enough to think this state of affairs could last forever through; The plant tenders' connection with the land had informed them that they could only do create so many harvests in this fashion before the landed needed to rest and recover and to push beyond that would risk causing permanent damage that would prevent further life from growing there.
It was all the more reason for them to focus on claiming the whole of the river rather then growing fat on the efforts of the land and the plant tenders. But being able to control the expansion since it wasn't fueled by desperation and hunger made things a lot more organized.
And on top of all of that, Raethel still had one task to do as proclaimed by their more absent of creators. "Your name shall be... Blangorum." He announced, before turning to the twin sibling of the now named Blangorum and considering for a moment. "...And you shall be Aceh. For showing an understanding of what is required of you, you'll both be joining the next group heading out to set up an outpost down river."
A brief look into Raethel's work and the process of the Rattus as a species in the short span of time since they came into being. Using their innate magical abilities to overcome a number of problems that would cause any other species created in the manner they were with their numbers to have serious issues, the Rattus are still planning to spread out across the lengths of their river for long term ease of survival.
Start:2
+1 for being apart of a post for longer then a line. +1 for being the main character/focus on the post. +1 for medium length.
Still working on the quest to see all Rattus are named.
Zelios’s outfit for the day was a dark grey hooded robe, with a pair of black feathered wings at his back. As he roamed the sands of the desert, he had quickly come to discover that dark colours were far from ideal for warding off heat. This would, perhaps, have been bothersome for a mortal, but he was a god, and could stand it easily enough.
He had spent most of his time thus far wandering the world. He had meant to do so as soon as he made the Ring, but had instead been tempted by a quick nap and… it seemed he had overslept. He wasn’t sure how long, but much of the world had already been made, and it seemed he had missed out on a great deal. He had begun travelling to see what he had missed, and his travels had brought him here.
He was bored. Every now and then he would kick up a cloud of sand and watch it blow away in the wind. This desert had carried a certain charm to it at night, but during the day he did not care much for it. He squinted at the rising sun and frowned with distaste. The sun was no real danger to him either, aside from making him slightly weaker and more uncomfortable, but it would be best if he got a move on. “Perhaps to somewhere with a bit more shade,” he mused aloud. “Or back to the Shadowlands, maybe.”
Somewhere in the distance, to the far left of where Zelio was currently walking and likely only noticeably by the same because of the fact that they were a deity and had much better senses than those of mortals, a portal burst open into reality in a flash of blindingly bright light.
The portal itself was only open briefly. Long enough for the six legged equine Aethel to trot out of it, turn around and offer those on the other side a respectful wave with both one of their front hooves and a number of the countless tendrils that seemed to float around their waist. “Thank you kindly.” was all that was said before the portal was closed… and Aethel turned to look around at where they had requested to be dropped off.
There was… determination on their face as they slowly looked over the horizon… and noticed a figure somewhere in the distance that caused them to tilt their head slightly in thought.
Zelios leapt a great distance into the air, before using his wings to glide and control his descent. He landed just a few paces away from Aethel, and looked the colourful god up and down. “Hm, yes. Aethel, was it?” he asked. “I do believe we have already met.”
There was a moment where the colorful deity needed to think about where they had encountered the winged, dark god before… before they perked up. “Oh wow. We haven’t seen each other since the world was nothing but water. What brings you all the way out here?”
“What brings anyone anywhere?” Zelios asked with a shrug. “Which I suppose would just be an evasive way of saying there’s no reason for me to be here in particular. I thought I would wander the world, stretch my wings, and take in the sights.”
“A fair enough reason.” Aethel answered back, before glancing around slightly as they clearly put some thought into something. “I actually came here with a goal in mind… and honestly, I think you might be able to speed up the process a bit.”
Having clearly come to an understanding within themselves, Aethel looked at Zelios with determination. “ I actually came here because I wanted this land to be where I develop a new civilised species to add to the world. Well… okay, they would just be a species to start with, but given time they would hopefully build something of themselves.”
There was a brief moment of pause before they quickly added “If you’re wondering why I’m planning to do it here, it’s because the goddess of plants is currently waging a one deity war against at least one civilised species up in the northern parts of the planet… possibly two depending on the efforts of the poor, sweet girl she’s dragged into her crusade... My hope is that since there isn’t a great deal of plant life down here and she’s already got enough people up north to try and kill, she’s not going to bother coming down here for a while.”
“That sounds like madness,” Zelios observed. [color=black][b]“Who is this goddess, and why has she resorted to such extremes?”[/color][/b]
For their part, the equine just shrugged. “Haven’t actually met the deity in question personally, through I know for a fact that she’s going by the titles of ‘Green Murder’ and ‘Beast Queen’. It seems like she has some sort of grudge against anyone developing into a civilization and trying to become something beyond a nomad tribe, though exactly why this is… no idea.”
“Hm. Well, pardon my vulgarity, but I suppose if any god had a proverbial stick up their rear, it makes sense that it would be a deity of plants,” Zelios quipped. “Still sounds a tad extreme, though.”
Aethel chuckled softly at the pun, before continuing.
“At any rate. I was intending to spend a great deal of time searching this land for a suitable place to morph and enlighten the species I had in mind… build up some power in the process, you know? But… pun intended, but it seems like your presence here is divine providence! I would welcome your input on a good location… and invite you to assist me in my efforts to develop the species in question if you’re so inclined.”
“From what I have seen in my travels, water is essential. Doubly so, in hot lands such as this. Lakes, and rivers, are what you need. Freshwater, not the salt water of the ocean. Most creatures can’t drink that, which seems something of an oversight, to tell you the truth. I know there are water sources in this land, and I could show you some.” He paused for a moment. “Unless you intend to create a species that doesn’t need water at all?”
There was a shake of the head. “The base creature I intend to uplift into a new, sapient form does drink water so that is a factor.” There was a slight pause… before a sigh escaped them. “I guess I should come clean. My intention is to use the humble rat as the original creature in question, uplifted into a new form to become something more than an animal. Considering they’ll likely burrow into the ground as both a survival tactic to escape the sun and instincts from their original ancestry, water sources both above and below ground would be welcomed.”
Zelios raised his eyebrows. [color=black][/b]“Oh, that is intriguing. An instinctive desire to burrow into the ground to escape the sun is something that I share! Haven’t actually done so, just yet, so I can’t help you in regards to underground water - you or your creations will have to find that on your own. But there is a major river in this land, just to the north of our location.”[/color]
Aethel beamed as their front hooves came together in a joyous clop sound as they clapped. “Wonderful! Shall we go for a walk and see it then? While I intend to largely leave them to their own devices, I can show them enough compassion as to try and pick a good place for them to start where they’ll have the best chance of success going forward.”
The God of Darkness offered a nod. “It’s not far, and it can’t be missed. Let’s go.”
The great river which served as the most prominent feature of the northern half of the desert did in fact exist, and Zelios had led Aethel to it without issue. Grass and plantlife grew along its banks, as it inevitably did wherever fresh water could be found. “And here it is,” the God of Darkness said, with little in the way of fanfare. “I believe it is fed by the mountains to the east, and eventually drains into the sea to the west. Riveting commentary, I know.”
For their part, Aethel’s head followed Zelios’ ‘commentary’ rather seriously, their head turning towards the east and then to the west respectfully… and a smile grew on their face as they nodded. “I think they’ll survive and thrive here rather well.” before they made a noise of thought before turning to look at the god of darkness. “Out of interest… Before we commit to developing this race, I suspect we should discuss the form we want it to take. While I have my own ideas, you are investing your own power into this project and it would be rather rude of me not to get your input in how you might want things to go.”
“You know, I haven’t actually made any such commitment,” Zelios pointed out. “Although I suppose it has been a long time since I actually created anything. And it would be rather inconvenient if our lord and/or father was upset with me. So, I suppose I might as well offer some assistance. First, and foremost, since it’s your idea, what are you imagining?”
For a moment there was quiet as Aethel considered the question. It was a good one and deserved the effort put into it after all. Turning away from the river and walking towards the more dry and sandy… sand of the desert, a few of their tendrils beckoned Zelios to follow.
Stopping where the sand was dry and loose enough to move around easily, the sand seemed to come alive as it lifted up and formed the shape of an ordinary rat. Nothing truly noteworthy or special about it, just an example of a normal rat made out of sand. “As tempting as it is to leave them at this size, I admit they’ll have an easier time surviving in this world if they were somewhat bigger.” Aethel started, the tendrils swaying as more sand flew onto the sand rodent, growing its size until it was about three to four feet tall.
“The benefit of being able to move around on ones hind legs while having ‘hands’ in order to do things is too great to pass up… but at the same time being a quadruped has its benefits. So how about instead of sacrificing one for the other we select something that offers both as valid options…” was mused aloud as alterations were made to limbs of the sand rat. The hind legs were extended and strengthened to allow and encourage a bipedal stance… but the original clawed feet remained, including the joints that allowed for four legged movement. The arms were strengthened and extended as well in order to give them the ability to properly reach and move their arms, but the length and strength was not to the same extent as the hind legs.
The result was a creature that was standing on its hind feet, but naturally seemed to be hunched over slightly. While this would likely look painful in another humanoid, with the minor alterations required to adjust the rest of the body to the changes in size and limbs so they would work in concert rather than against each other, the result suggested a small humanoid that could scurry on all fours rather naturally but could also stand straight in order to work tools.
After a moment, Aethel turned to Zelios as they stated“This seems like a good start at least. Any input you wish to add?”
Zelios took a few moments to ponder this information. They were indeed merits to being able to switch between walking on four limbs and two limbs. But there was far more to a species than that. “Seems workable enough. I’ve not much to add beyond things that might give them a better affinity for the dark, but rats already have plenty of that. Tell me, though; how long will these creatures live, and how fast shall they reproduce?”
The blank expression on Aethel’s face said it all. They clearly hadn’t thought about those kinds of details up until this point. “...How long do rats normally live?” was not a question that a divine being creating a sapient race should be asking but… there it was, in all earnesty.
“How long do rats live?” Zelios asked, somewhat bemused.[color=black][b] “They…”[b][/color] then he stopped. “I don’t actually know for certain. But… I don’t think it’s very long? A few years, at the most?”
One of Aethel’s tendrils reached up to rub the back of their head… before they just shrugged and answered “Well… it’s not like we can’t just give them a longer period anyway. How’s fifty to eighty years sound to you?”
Zelios considered that. “Well… I would hope they don’t reproduce at the same speed as their smaller brethren. Else they’d overwhelm the entire planet within a few generations. I doubt the others would approve.”
“Smaller litters perhaps? To make up for the fact that they’re bigger and smarter than their smaller kin and thus have a better chance of survival.” was offered… even if Aethel didn’t exactly know how many the average rat litter was.
“Might not be enough,” Zelios said, glossing over the fact that he didn’t know the exact numbers either - though he did know they were quite considerable. “Longer maturity rates, shorter lifespans. And a point in their life at which they become infertile. My word, this has gotten rather complicated…”
Aethel considered this for a moment… before offering a counter point. “They are rather small compared to some of the animals and creations of our kin… and Tuku’s curse on rat kind will likely transfer over in that most mortals will see them as lowly and dirty creatures, even if they aren’t. But that’s the price we pay in order to make sure that my original blessing carries over as well.”
Zelios squinted in confusion. He had neither known nor been told any of this. “Curses?” he asked. “Blessings? On rats?” He then paused, clearly about to say more, but not quite sure on the best way to phrase it. Finally, he settled on a simple question. “May I ask why?”
Aethel seemed amused by the question. They did rather enjoy being a storyteller after all. “Well, it started back when we were making the world. Tuku created the first rats, alongside a bunch of other small creatures back in the Celestial Palace. As I was creating Mana for the world, in order to properly balance things I required mana connected with death, destruction and decay… so I killed one of the first rats to create it. The surviving rat, without her mate, went back to Tuku and requested a solution to the problem… which he offered if she stole something from me.”
“Which she did… but she also took a second item because she was angry with me for killing her mate and putting her in this position in the first place. Tuku wasn’t happy because she lied about it, so he cursed her and her descendants so that everyone would think of rats as lowly, dirty creatures. As for my blessing… when I caught up with her, she was completely honest with me and I deemed it wrong to punish her because one of our kin decided to put her up to it… plus I kind of owed her anyway for sacrificing her mate so, I blessed her and her kind so that they would naturally be able to understand and channel mana to use for their purposes.”
“All that sounds very dramatic,” Zelios mused. “As well as a tad petty, and just a little bit inconsistent.” Suddenly, the god took on a much deeper and slightly animalistic tone. He had never heard Tuku speak, but it was what he imagined a God of the Hunt would sound like. “‘Go steal for me. Oh, you lied? I curse you and your entire species.’” He shook his head. When he next spoke, the mocking tone was gone. “I suppose I’d be cross if someone lied to me, but an entire species? Bit too far. I’d likely just draw the line at the individual.” Another pause. “And maybe everyone they love, if I’m in an exceptionally bad mood.”
Aethel shrugged. “No one has ever accused me of being consistent. I’m personally rather prone to flights of fancy so… I’m not exactly in a position to judge someone else for having strange moralities.” They actually paused as they smiled and added “Plus the feud with Tuku this started has been rather enjoyable to take part in. We haven’t even met personally and we’re already deep in a prank war that has raged since the world was young. I fully recommend embracing the chaos sometimes and running with it… it can be rather entertaining.”
“That certainly is something to consider, although I’d rather wait until I meet someone who deserves it. It doesn’t sound like there is any shortage of such gods, however.” He shrugged. “Anyway, the rats. I would say… hm. Perhaps have the litter size remain the same, but limit each female to one litter per lifetime?”
Aethel shook his head a little at the suggestion. “One litter per lifetime can go very wrong if there are complications. How about we half the average size of the litter, but they can have several over their lifetime?”
“Math,” Zelios breathed. “Fun,” he said, with a tone that suggested the opposite. “What if each litter took a year to carry, then? And they can only begin reproducing after an age of… let’s say a quarter of their maximum lifespan? And stop reproducing at the halfway point?” He still didn’t know exactly how many rats were in a litter, but it couldn’t be too much, right? And it’s not like this climate was easy to survive in to begin with.
Aethel just shrugged and made a small noise of boredom. “Good enough. I mean, I doubt any of our kin put this much thought into this when they were creating a species so…”
Since the matter was now effectively settled as far as Aethel was concerned, he turned back to the sand display briefly. “Might as well get what modifications you want done to the model before we get started.”
“There’s not much I can think to add at the moment, beyond making it easier for them to navigate the dark - something I believe they were already good at to begin with. Better night vision, perhaps?” the God of Darkness offered another shrug. “Either way, let’s get this done.”
Nodding in agreement, the model dropped back into the sand as Aethel stopped giving it any further attention… and turned back towards the more fertile grounds beside the river and its banks. “Let us begin then.” was all they had to say before they closed their eyes and focused.
The first step was, of course, getting the rats there in order to enhance them in the first place. This would not be a difficult task; While some gods might have just teleported or provoked them into making the trip on land, Aethel had a much easier solution. Their horns glowed for a moment as they sent out a signal through the winds and currents of mana… and one by one rats started to appear in front of the pair of gods. Some materialized out of the wind, some borrowed up from the ground where there hadn’t been tunnels before, some even appeared in flashs of flame or stepping out of the river itself, completely dry. The winds of mana offered many paths and passages for those with the gift to see them after all.
Soon rats in their thousands had gathered by the riverside, watching the gods with an unnatural stillness as if bewitched by them.
“What next?” Zelios asked, not seeming the least bit unnerved by this.
Somewhat pleased with the results of the summons, Aethel turned to Zelios as several of their tendrils intertwined together, a grin forming on the equine’s face. “Simple really. We alter and enlighten them. Shall we?” Offering one of their hooves to Zelios, Aethel started to build up power in order to enact the transformation… but was clearly waiting for the god of darkness to join their power before fully committing to it.
Zelios extended a hand to one of the hooves. No doubt this made for a rather unusual sight - the two of them a stark contrast to one another in every possible way, standing before a sea of rats. The God of Darkness then focused his power. After his years of inactivity, his reserves were quite vast… but he only offered a small portion to the mana god. He had plans of his own, and he wasn’t that invested in this species to begin with; it would not be wise to squander too much of his potential here.
The first thought that went through their head as the blackness faded and their eyes opened was a simple ‘What?’
Confusion quickly followed as thinking in a context beyond basic survival was a brand new experience and they didn’t exactly know what to do with it right away but… after a time they finally opened their eyes. They were… bigger than the furry memories in their mind suggested. Their body felt different as well… not in a bad way, just different. Even as the wind blew against their skin and the warmth of the light in the heavens soaked into their fur, the first to awaken pushed themselves up onto their hind legs and looked around and the rest of their slumbering people.
Glancing down to see their genitals, they blinked slightly as the concept of ‘they’ turned into ‘he’. He was still somewhat confused by these new developments but… at the same time a feeling bubbled up to the surface that they had never felt before. He couldn’t describe it but… it felt like despite the increase in size that the world had suddenly grown larger and more full of opportunities that weren’t there before. All he needed to do was reach out and seize it.
“Hello?” A voice, and a snapping sound, could be heard nearby. A figure with smooth skin and black wings stood before him. “Can you hear me? Can you understand me?”
Turning towards the sound with a flick of their ear, he blinked slightly as he gazed up at the tall, dark figure with wings… and the more colorful, smaller figure with poofy hair and tail standing beside them. As the questions were asked, he blinked slightly… before nodding his head and saying for the first time “Hello?””
The smaller figure grinned. “Hello to you as well. How are you feeling?”
There was a slight blink at the change of energy between the tone of the two figures, but he took a deep breath as he answered the rather complicated question with “Different… stronger…was in murkiness before but now can see clearly. Who are you?”
“My name is Zelios, and this is Aethel,” the black-haired and black-winged figure said. “We created you.”
‘Aethel’ was about to nod their head in agreement, paused for a moment as if they were going to say something, considered the matter for a moment… and then nodded all the same to Zelios’ statement.
For his part, he looked up at his creators with wide eyes, remembering them as the clearest of the murkiest memories before the darkness and awakening. “T-Thank you. But… What is my name?”
The expression that came across ‘Aethel’s face was new and unknown to him, but the look in their eyes was familiar: Panic. The currently nameless one watched as the smaller of their creators reached up to take Zelios’ hand and muttered a quick “Please excuse us one moment…” before pulling them away in order to have a quick chat with them outside of their hearing range.
“I take it you didn’t think this far ahead either?” Zelios asked with an amused smirk.
Aethel shook their head. “ I was planning to let them figure it out for themselves… I didn’t think I would actually have to name them!”
There was a brief discussion between the two deities… before they returned to the waiting, unnamed former rat who had been waiting rather patiently. “After some discussion, we have decided to name you-”
Although the unfortunate truth was: no such decision had been made. Indeed, both gods had hoped they would think of something in the time it took them to walk back to the waiting rat, and would say the first thing that came to mind. Zelios looked expectantly at Aethel, stunned at how long they were taking, but equally embarrassed by the fact that he hadn’t come up with anything either. In the end, after the ensuing pause had become too awkward for god or mortal to bear, he decided to just blurt something out.
“Raethal.”
“Norvegicus” Aethel said at exactly the same moment… before proving that if nothing else, they could at least improvise on the spot when required. “Raethel Norvegicus, the first of the Rattus.” That part was admittingly debatable, but they were the first to awaken and that deserved something.
Reaching out to place a hand on Raethel’s shoulder, Aethel offered a smile as they poured a little extra something into their new creation. “We have entrusted you to be the one to lead your people forward. We trust you’ll be up to the task Raethel.”
Raethel for their part looked amazed… blinking in surprise as they felt something infused and strengthened their very being… before turning to look at Zelios to see if they had anything to say.
“Wield your power responsibly,” the God of Darkness intoned seriously. “Do not abuse it. First you may be, and power you may hold, but never forget that a leader must give as well as take. And that a leader who fails to serve the interests of those who follow him may find that he no longer has a following. Remember this lesson well.”
Raethel listened to the words of one of his creators with wide eyes and his full attention… before respectfully bowing his head. “I will… I will remember what you have said.”
“Good,” Zelios nodded. “Now, I shall give you your first task as leader. When the rest of the Rattus awaken you must… help them name themselves. If they cannot think of a name for themselves, then you shall come up with one for them until they do.”
There was a squeak of… excitement? As Raethel turned to look back at the rest of their still slumbering fellows… before he nodded his head as they looked back at their creators. “It will be done. I promise.”
Aethel for their part reached out to playfully run their hand along Raethel’s head, causing the rat’s eyes to widen… before leaning into the pats. “We look forward to seeing what you and the Rattus become in time, Raethel.”
“Indeed,” Zelios nodded, adding a bit of extra self-importance to his voice. “And now I must leave, for there are matters I must tend to elsewhere.” He turned back to Aethel. “Unless there is anything else?”
Aethel for their part shook their head. “I might stay around a little longer to make sure that they know the basics of survival. Give them a good head start… but that shouldn’t take all that long. Thank you for your assistance Zelios.” Aethel even offered a respectful bow to show their thanks.
Zelios responded with a bow of his own. “Think nothing of it. Though I may request your aid in the future should I require any assistance with a project of my own.”
“Of course. Until we meet again.” Aethel offered… before turning their full attention to Raethel and the rest of the Rattus. “Now then… I think we should start with what is and isn’t safe for you to eat.”
Zelios is just wandering the Land of Deserts and Hidden Rivers because he wants to see the world when Aethel steps out of a portal after speaking with the Monarch (to be shown in a later post). After catching up a little, Aethel ropes Zelios into assisting them with a project that has been on their mind for a while now: Creating a sapient race by uplifting rat kind.
Zelios leads Aethel to a river they passed by up north… where the two gods discuss biology and math while they’re designing the new species because it turns out that neither of them actually know that much about rat biology.
The new race is created! And the first of their kind awakens to speak with their creators… and asks for his name. Considering that Aethel hadn’t thought this far ahead, they and Zelios go into a huddle to discuss things before deciding to wing it, officially naming the first of the Rattus people ‘Raethel Norvegicus’ whom Aethel promotes to champion and leader of the Rattus people for being the first of his kind to awaken.
Zelios decides to give two commandments: 1. Don't be a dick. 2. Come up with your own goddamn names.
Zelios then wanders off to do his own thing, parting with Aethel on good terms as the latter decides to hang around long enough to teach the Rattus how to survive as a species going forward.
Zelios Start: 22 -2 Vigor toward the creation of the Rattus. End: 20
Aethel Start:4 -3 Vigor towards the creation of the Rattus -1 Vigor to create Rattus Champion (Raethel Norvegicus) End:0
Raethel Norvegicus Start:0 +1 for first post. +1 For being apart of a medium length post (Counted from the moment they came into existence.)
Quest given: Help the Rattus name themselves. Quest giver: Zelios.
With the matter of the Edict of Tolerance and Xenos rights defended on the Council floor, Micholi's presence at the Council meetings took a more observational role in proceedings, with the Primarch taking the opportunity in order to get some much needed work done. That wasn't to say that he wasn't listening and paying attention to all matters being discussed by the Council at any given time since any issue being raised so that the Emperor and the Primarchs could weigh in on it was generally an important one and deserved being paid attention to, but few subjects required his direct input. The issue of Braining was one in which he didn't really care one way or the other to much and while Augor and Eiosha clashed over it, Micholi had been simply working on a dataslate.
It was after the Council had retired and in the privacy of his spartan offices that what Micholi was working on was finally brought to completion. However, despite being able to recall every word of the document with accurate precision, the Primarch took the time to review it again in order to check his wording with great care.
The document in question had been in the making for a surprising long time, through only once the Council was announced did it finally start to take a physical form. History had always been a passion of the Primarch and the chance to try and shed some light on one of the key moments of galactic history (even if only from a human perspective) had long been on his mind, but Micholi had re-framed from doing so sooner for political reasons.
Sparking scientific discussion about the early days of the Age of Strife and the possible causes of the Warp Storms that were truly the final nail in the coffin of Humanities former galactic ambitions could be viewed in a negative light by some; While it had taken a long time, Micholi did believe he had managed to find the correct wording for the document to ensure that the reader would clearly be able to see that all theories and ideas presented within were developed via the recovering of data and information much like an Explorator Fleet rather then actual first hand experimentation would ensure that any case made that he had breached the Treaty of Mars would fall flat on its face... but he had already factored in that there were going to be those who claimed such anyway.
The foreword was respectful and humble, written to appease the Mechanicum of Mars and make it clear to the reader that Micholi's intentions were purely those of a fellow historian and scientist seeking to start earnest discourse and promote the sharing of information so that an accurate picture of what happened to bring an end to the Dark Age of Technology and herald in the Age of Strife could be reached. It also made clear that the data and information that the following theories were based on were from incomplete and (at times) questionable sources and as such should not be treated as absolute truth, even if they were penned in the words of a Primarch. Instead, it should be viewed as Micholi sharing what information he had picked up during the cause of the Crusade and that based on it, these were the most sound theories he could establish with what he had access to. As new data was found, such theories would either be updated or disproven and cast aside as required.
The first theory to be presented for judgement was that the storms of the Age of Strife were triggered as a result of an over usage of warp drives and warp travel technology on a galactic scale over a (relatively) short period of time. This was clearly a topic that had the potential to be highly controversial and Micholi treated it with the respect and care it was due. The Primarch tried to establish the action of tearing open a rift between Reality and the Warp as akin to that of soil degradation in mass scale farming; There is the possibility that the more one tears open a rift between the dimensions, the less stable local space around the area will become and that doing this over and over again over an extended period of time would cause negative results.
The second theory was a brief look into human nature and the stresses of desperation. Namely, evidence suggested that the Age of Strife proper began before the Warp Storms that isolated or consumed countless planets due to conflicts such as the war against the Men of Iron, civil wars within humanity itself and invasions by hostile xenos species such as the Orks (which evidence suggests were a blight on the galaxy even back in the Dark Age of Technology) taking advantage of the general chaos. Being assailed by threats, the powers that be of Humanity might have started to explore projects to turn the tide that would have either been ill advised or outright insane under normal circumstances. The theory suggests that the warp storms might have been the result of a currently unknown experimental device that went horribly wrong... or, considering humanities history of weaponizing technology, horrifically right.
The tone of the second theory was that of a cautionary tale. The desperation and panic tended to create more mistakes and disasters then miracles and that trusting completely in an experimental, untested idea over tried and proven methods to win the day can easily lead to catastrophic results.
The third theory was almost certainly the one that had the possibility of causing the least controversy. Supported by the facts that a great number of Dark Age technology was clearly produced with the assistance of the Men of Iron before they betrayed humanity and that prior to the warp storms of the Age of Strife that humanity was winning the conflict against the Men of Iron, even if it had come at great human cost, there was a strong possibility that the warp storms of the Age of Strife were created by some unknown weapon or device developed by the Men of Iron as a last ditch effort to wipe out humanity and all other organic life. It is unclear if this might have been done with some idea of the Men of Iron capitalizing and trying to win the war once the storms abated or if it was done as an attempt to take organic life down with them out of spite, but since the Men of Iron's grand new campaign never manifested and organic life is still here, it can safely be said that either way their final gambit failed.
The epilogue itself retreaded the ground that the three theories presented were done with incomplete data discovered during the cause of the Crusade. It stressed that at the time of writing, actual experimentation into any of these ideas would be illegal in the Imperium and by the Treaty of Mars. Uncovering data and information in pursuit of knowledge to further bring understanding to this dark and bloody period in history was clearly alright through.
There was a recent addition to the epilogue that Micholi found himself debating keeping in through because it was about the Emperor and the Treaty of Mars:
'I am aware of the fact that the Mechanicum has long held the view that one day the Emperor would review and ease up on some of the restrictions of the Treaty of Mars once Humanity was prepared to handle these otherwise dangerous fields of study. I feel the need to offer the possibility of hope to support your faith in that belief. I do not claim to be able to understand the motives of the Emperor, but while he is a warrior and diplomat of unmatched, legendary skill... the Wars of Unification on Terra and the Crusade we are currently fighting were first and foremost won in the Emperor's laboratory due to his skills as a scientist.
At the time of writing this, the Emperor has deemed to promote one of the Primarchs to continue leading the Crusade in his stead as Warmaster so that he may return to Terra. While it is true that he has countless duties and responsibilities to take care of, I earnestly believe that one of them will be to return to the laboratory in time. I cannot begin to guess what the Emperor might deem worthy of his attention to investigate, but if his insights can discover a means to make these dangerous and restricted fields of study safe enough for humanity to explore them properly, we might see some restrictions eased in time.'
For a moment, Micholi considered removing that section. It was purely observational, but he still remembered Augor's annoyance with him for 'claiming to know the motives of the Emperor' during the debates. Then again, Augor was smart and prescriptive enough to recognize that what he had written was likely true.
If nothing else, it would help the document do its job of distracting the more hard line members of the Mechanicum from the results of the Council about the Edict of Tolerance. Sending copies of the document to his various siblings for peer review, Micholi submitted a copy to Mechanicum channels like any other thesis developed by a Tech Priest in order to be reviewed.
Having long left Mish and his spiritual companion long behind, Aethel had decided to travel the world a little bit before heading back home to their tree. As far as what generally happened when deities decided to go for a walk across the land, it was actually a rather tame affair; Sure some of the local sentient mortals would never get answers to why the animals nearby their homes decided to randomly either flee in what was clearly terror, suffer a temporary catatonic state or actively find the fastest method they could to end their own lives on mass, but such things made for interesting stories.
It had been as they had been prancing through a forest glade when Aethel came across a sight that hadn't been seen since they first came into being on the Palace Grounds. Granted, it was a circle of different shaped mushrooms rather then the beautiful cascade of flowers that heralded their birth, but as the equine deity stared at it the circle started to give them ideas. They could have easily just blessed the random site and moved on, leaving it for the locals to deal with and most likely forgetting about it soon after making blessing it... but the seed of an idea in Aethel's mind had not only taken root, but proved to be a rather big idea that required following a few different branches before the true scale could be properly appreciated.
It was true that Aethel was fickle and easily distracted at times. Even as they followed the plan for the mushroom circle to the end, the knowledge that it was going to take so much energy that they would likely have to return home and have another sleep had caused their thoughts to branch off into how they might be able to make the act of sleeping more entertaining and interesting for not just themselves, but for everything else as well. Both ideas had their merits, but they would only have enough power to really put one of them into effect at this time.
Deciding that chance might help resolve the dilemma of which project to invest their time and effort into, Aethel calmly walked over to a nearby mushroom that wasn't apart of the circle and pulled its top of, taking a few seconds with the hands of their humanoid form to reshape it into a disc in which one side was the off white of the top of the mushroom and the other was the dark brown of the underneath. Now that there was a flat disc with easily different sides, Aethel flipped it into the air before catching it again... and again... and a third time to complete the best out of three result.
White. Dark Brown. White.
By the rules they had thought up in their head, that meant that the original idea of what to do with the mushroom circle (and other circles like it) had won out... but the more they thought about it, the more that the second, newer idea appealed to their heart. It also didn't hurt that of the two, it was the one more likely to be noticed and respected by their siblings and praise was always nice. So disregarding the results of the disc and casting it aside, Aethel mentally went 'stuff it' and clapped their hands together as they closed their eyes and focused on a surprisingly big project.
Coming to the conclusion that the mind of the individual sleeping would be the best suited to, on a deeper level, decide how best to entertain itself and thus all they needed to do was give it the tools to do so was rather simple. The logistics of exactly how to parcel out this gift was a lot harder. The original idea of just going around and giving it to every individual encountered was discarded fairly quickly because it was both time consuming and boring. Aethel didn't want to put that much effort into this after all.
Bouncing around a few ideas of how to make things work in a timely manner that would cover the most beings in the process, Aethel discarded several ideas... before they found one that they liked. Instead of going out and giving every individual creature the improvement to better enjoy the act of sleeping,, they would create a singular mental landscape in which all things that could sleep would enter whenever they did so; A mental ocean filled with nothing but bubbles, with each bubble being an individual who was asleep at the time, their mind creating the means of entertainment within for the benefit of itself. An ocean filled bubble isolated from the physical world filled with bubbles filled with whatever the mind of the dreamer within came up with.
And so, Aethel poured their energy into it and made it so. There was no noticeable difference made to the world, but deity and mortal alike would feel... something change. As if something that had always existed had come into existence and because it had come into existence, it had now always existed. Mortals of course would likely dismiss this as merely a strange and silly thought that made no sense while even some deities would follow suit... but the Monarch would almost certainly have a grasp on the new situation.
Having brought the ability to dream to the world, Aethel walked over to the circle of mushrooms and laid down in the middle of it to have a well deserved nap... after a brief flick of their tail to ensure that said nap wouldn't be disturbed anytime soon.
After having 'helped' Mish, Aethel went for a largely event-less walk in the world (well... event-less compared to most divine wanderings). Coming across a circle of mushrooms that reminded them of the circle of flowers that served as the point of their creation, Aethel considered doing something with it and things like it... but soon grew sidetracked by another idea that sprung up. Flipping a mushroom a few times to try and break the stalemate of which idea to invest the time and resources into at this stage, the results proved in favor of the original idea which Aethel took under advisement... before promptly going 'stuff it' and working on the second one.
Taking inspiration from the ocean of their departed sister, Aethel created a purely mental 'ocean' completely separate from physical reality in which all entities that can sleep will slip into when they do so, appearing within the 'ocean' as a bubble protected and isolated from the influence of other dreamers. The contents of the bubble (IE, the dream) are created from the individuals own deeper mind under the belief that it would know the best way to entertain itself.
An interesting quirk of the 'Ocean of Dreams' is that due to its existence as a purely mental construct devoid of physical laws, it is a timeless creation; It exists outside the standard flow and influence of time, meaning that despite the fact that it had only just been brought into existence properly, entities (and people) that existed before the Ocean of Dreams was properly created lived their lives connected to it and thus had dreams and nightmares.
Aethel then laid down in the middle of the mushroom circle to have a sleep and enjoy what they've created.
Started with 3.
Spent 3 to create the purely mental construct of 'The Ocean of Dreams', thus allowing all entities from the Monarch of All to the lowest lifeform that can sleep to have dreams and nightmares.
Zima the Zimmer zoomed about Mish-Cheechel as the two wandered through the forest. They had traveled a ways after stopping for the hunger that ate at his belly, and the thirst that parched his throat. Then the inevitable curse of sleep- all of Mish-Cheechel’s words at the time were lost on his spirit companion. It was true, she did not need to eat, to drink or to sleep- but she did sleep willingly from time to time. Indeed, Zima was beyond the whims of Bjork needs but all the free time meant one thing.
Questions.
They flowed from her brimming tongue if she had one, and she would ask about anything. ‘Why color green? Why red? Why wet? Dry? What bird?’ On and on they went, without rhyme or reason. Like the incessant mewlings of a newborn kit, or of a manbjork whose head got hit by a tree one too many times, only devoting his life to simple questions of whys and what ifs near the end of his days. One no longer fit to act and only trying to find a deeper meaning in his time left, when there was truly none. Zima was just like that, except, as far as anyone knew, she would live forever. Would she still ask questions?
There was at least a small victory to be had, for her speech was improving and talk between the two was flowing better. Perhaps she truly was as a kit, just a child set out on the same path of vengeance as he. Now that was how one should act. There was only doing! The Green Murder was out there somewhere and it would be vanquished once and for all.
So Mish-Cheechel thought at least, but Fate had other plans, as Fate often did.
“Misssshhhh.” Zima called out. “Missssshhhhh Cheeechellllll. Mish-Cheechel!” She floated around a tree and found him at last with an excitable giggle. “There you are! Look!” The mist that made up her body transformed into a small otter-like creature, but it was much smaller and incredibly skinny. Narrow, as if made for tight spaces. “What this?” she inquired, jumping around his head.
The massive manbjork sniffed and blinked his red eyes at her, barely restraining a yawn. “Youra a zimmin hround doomus Zinma. Wassa ming or somin?” His stomach rumbled and the bear sat beneath him shook its great head and shuffled side to side. Scratching at his chin, Mish-Cheechel allowed himself to fall from the saddle and landed awkwardly, leapt now on this foot and now on his tail, then righted himself and stumbled towards the tree and placed a palm on it. “Danggreen muhr,” he mumbled as he brought his chisel-like teeth to the bark and tore groggily at it, then spat the wood out. He left a few unclean gashes in the bark and then huffed and sat down against the tree. “Imma te yasummin Zemehhh,” he rubbed his face and restrained another yawn, before stretching so that his ribs cracked and small tears bubbled in his tear ducts but did not quite fall, “ahwa zayin,” he leaned back and made himself comfortable against the tree. He paused for a second, frowned, then got up. He stood there for a few seconds, staring at Zima, then sat back down and lay as though to sleep - but he had no sooner closed his eyes before he leapt back up. “Zima!” He declared unsteadily, “let’s go!” He clambered onto the bear and sat in the saddle again, staring vacantly ahead.
He had been doing that for two days now. Zima didn't know for sure what was going on with the bjork but she knew something was more amiss then he was letting on. She stayed close as they set off at last, Mish-Cheechel rocking side to side dangerously as the bear made its way through the trees.
As the pair traveled they started to notice… movement nearby. Something big that was moving as quickly and without caution through plants as physically possible. It wasn’t coming towards them… it was just fleeing from the direction they were heading in and happened to just pass them by. A strange occurrence to be sure…
Then the rest of the stampede started. Though calling it a stampede was wrong… It was more of an exodus of animals of all shapes and sizes, running as quickly as their bodies, and the terrain, would let them away from something ahead of the pair. It wasn’t just land animals either; Flocks of birds could be seen and heard flying away… and a close eye at the river might even spy some fish that were strangely all heading in the one direction as well.
Zima went on the alert quickly, gasping in surprise at the stampede and exodus of animals. She began to growl in a high pitch. "Something is wrong. Something bad." She swirled around Mish's head, her shape losing any identity beside the usual fog. For his part, Mish-Cheechel opened his eyes wide and leapt to his feet even as the bear (whom they had named Bear on Zima’s insistence) continued plodding forth through the snow.
“I’ll show ‘em bad!” He cried as he pulled his spear from the saddle and leapt on the nearest fleeing wolf. The animal easily darted away and continued fleeing, however. Mish-Cheechel rose just as a bear dawned on him. He stared at it bleary-eyed and its great panicking snout rammed into him as he thrust his spear right between its great legs and missed entirely. He fell over backwards and squealed as one of its paws found his stomach and pushed him deep into the snow, leaving him wide awake but otherwise unharmed. “Fuggin Green Murder scum.” He managed as he rose and the great stampede was behind them. He glanced over at Zima. “What was that about now, eh?”
Zima did not share a giggle like she would normally at such a display, in fact she had become rigid in form. Almost like a rock in shape but not of texture. "Danger. Something… Someone coming. Can't you hear…?" She said cryptically. The manbjork glanced at her, adrenaline pulsing through him and bloodshot eyes wide.
“Are they now Zim? Well, let’s get it over with then.” And with that he strode forth clutching the spear in his numbed hands and wearing a terrible frown. His eyes burned, but the memory of sleep was gone. His stomach rumbled but there was no thought of food. His muscles ached but rest was for those without vengeance.
He snuck from tree to tree, glancing warily into the snow and darkness, leaping from shadow to shadow into the heart of whatever it was that caused the forestlife to panic and flee. He did not pause to wonder why bears and wolves and deers would flee the eagle god - for there was no doubt in his mind that they were now approaching that horrorsome thing. He was not without fear - that nagging voice clawed and pulled, but he brushed it off and did not hear: he only ventured forth and stalked to revenge himself and Clan Rod’s folk.
As Mish-Cheechel continued, Zima close behind, they still heard or saw the occasional slower animal that was trying to flee or make its speedy exit… but as they stalked or floated it started to finally be heard on the edge of their hearing. It was… difficult to put into words what the sound actually was: There was no rhyme or reason to it, loud and energetic but terrible and horrific at the same time as it assaulted the ears and seemed to reach deep into the part of the soul that enjoyed art and music before stabbing a knife into it and twisting the blade.
The true horror of the terrible din through was, for those lifeforms capable of higher thought… Despite how unworldly, terrible and tortuous it was to listen to, it also provoked a degree of curiosity and fascination. It was captivating in the same manner that a public execution tended to draw a crowd to witness it. Fascinating because this was what it meant to discover truly terrible music and sound, rather than just listening to songs you didn’t like or amatures that had only just started to learn how to play their chosen instrument and still weren’t very good at it yet.
The animals living in the area clearly did not enjoy it, whatever it was. The bear that Mish-Cheechel had left behind seemed to be… struggling with itself. It clearly wanted to turn around and run, but the divine will that had bound it into service compelled it onwards regardless of its natural instincts.
The closer they got to the source and the louder the noise got, the more they started to notice other animals. Some were standing, others were on the ground, but they were still breathing and rigid with their eyes glazed over. Unresponsive to anything and everything around them.
They were a creepy but more pleasant sight than the dead animals though; Birds and animals that had clearly slammed themselves into tree trunks until they had expired, horrific self-inflicted claw marks to the neck and chest… several animals, including one of the largest bears the pair had ever seen, had opted to go to the river and stick their heads underwater before breathing deeply.
Mish-Cheechel, at that point, finally paused and took in the scene. He scrunched up his snout at the smell of death and glanced at where the blood of the forestfolk dripped down the bark or grew in lazy pools on the loamy earth. It dawned on him only then that this could never be the Green Murder’s doing - it was the sort to kill wantonly, no doubt, but somewhere in its demented head there was reason to it and purpose. That was to say, some kind of rationale that Mish-Cheechel had seen and which the Murder had deigned to explain. There was none of that here. He glanced ahead, where the noise seemed to roil up like some terrible wall, and then behind him, where there was safety. After a brief moment, he shrugged and turned away. “Fuck this Zima, I don’t know what’s up there but I sure as hell don’t want to find out. Let’s go.” And with that the manbjork backed away at speed, leapt onto Bear’s back, and turned the relieved creature away from the noise and stench of death. Zima gave no complaint to that suggestion and eagerly followed after Mish. “Sound… Wrong. Very wrong.” She murmured as she seemed to focus on all the death and insanity around them. “Death…” The mist seemed to shake a little back and forth before zipping around Mish’s head once more.
And then… the sound ceased.
There was suddenly silence… for the most part. The river still ran and the wind still ruffled the leaves in the trees, but there were no more animal noises since they had either fled, were in a presently catatonic state, or were dead. And then…
“Hi. Did you like my song?” A youthful and energetic tone asked them.
...They weren’t alone anymore.
The figure that had joined them had simply… appeared before them the moment that they looked away, be it turning to look in a different direction or blinking. There had to be some kind of magic or witchcraft afoot because there was absolutely no way that the figure could have naturally snuck up on anyone without being spotted in any sane world.
Neither Mish-Cheechel nor Zima had ever seen a being like this before. Standing on two hooved legs and wearing a beautiful white gown, the humanoid equine offered them a smile as their multicolored and ridiculously poofy mane and tail shifted slightly behind them, even as a horn rested on their forehead, jutting out. They were beautiful in their way, but if they were a male or female was impossible to pin down. They seemed to be significantly smaller than Mish, causing them to have to look up at the larger manbjork.
And held proudly in their hand was a flute made out of wood. It seemed to just be that; a flute whittled out of wood… and not even done in an artistic or masterful way. Still, the strange entity was staring right at them, eyes wide and filled with a desire to get some earnest feedback or praise for their musical talent… and completely ignorant and blind to the insanity and death that had been inflicted on the area.
Mish-Cheechel stared at the odd creature for a few silent seconds. “No, it was the worst thing I’ve heard in my life.” He said frankly. “In fact, if I were you I’d find some way to never play music or sing ever again - I dunno, rip out your tongue or something.” Lack of sleep had made him oddly loose-tongued, and any apprehensions about speaking so brusquely to this strange being - clearly more powerful than he was, and mighty enough to strike fear even into Zima’s great swirling form - was non-existent. His stomach rumbled and he cracked his own neck with a quick twist. “You know, I sometimes wonder to myself if there is some kind of torturous hellscape the likes of you can go fuck off to if you die - or even better, if we kill you off. It’d mean death wouldn’t be a mercy for you, y’know? I mean, I don’t even mind that you were killing all those scum back there, but then you come along all happy like and ask me in that stupid voice: ‘DiD yOu LiKe My SoNg?’ - no I fuckin didn’t. And, like, what even is the point? Why the hell did you do it? Was there any reason at all? Here I am, splitting my backside tearing at trees and trying to kill even one of those fuckin beasts, and you come along all frivolous and smiley and knock out half the damn forest - and there’s not even a reason behind it. Y’know, as soon as I’m done with the Green Murder maybe I should turn to wankers like you. In fact,” he turned in his saddle, brought one foot over and jumped down, spear in hand.
"Mish-" Zima tried to say but his rant continued.
“What do I care, it doesn’t even matter. Here, I’ll do you in right now. Go on, play your stupid song - whatcha gonna do, blow my brains out? Help me drown myself? Assist me in bashing my head against your skull so that maybe I’ll bash your brains out as I bash my own? Whatcha think? I like that last one, personally.” The manbjork continued raving away as he hefted his spear and casually approached the equine, a smile growing on his face, bloodshot eyes wide and pupils grown to the size of little moons.
For their part, the strange Equine seemed inclined to let the manbjork rant and rave in a polite silence, the smile never leaving their face… but their eyes slowly narrowing with what appeared to be anger. The sleep-deprived Mish-Cheechel had clearly made a mistake… through exactly what that mistake was and when he made it was debatable. As the rant came to a pause, the equine finally spoke… and did so in the exact same tone of voice they had before.
“Oh, I didn’t kill anyone. I was just playing a song to pass the time while I was waiting for you to get here Mish-Cheechel. But since you’re clearly not in the mood for explanations, I’ll just give you the gift I intended to give you to help you fulfill your oath to me and let you be on your merry way.” With the statement given, there was suddenly a multi-colored blur as within less than the blink of a mortal eye, the equine figure had moved from where they had been standing to cover the distance between themself and Mish-Cheechel, before leaping off the ground in order to impale the manbjork through the heart with the wooden flute, driving it through fur, skin, bone and muscle as if it were nothing and out the other side.
Yanking the flute out and holding the blood covered thing in a now blood covered hand, the Equine’s smile seemed to grow a little as it reached out and placed a hand over Mish-Cheechel’s heart… and the angry manbjork would feel something anchor itself to his body and soul as the light of his life faded and a body without a working heart started to fail. “Enjoy the brief respites of darkness that death will offer you Mish-Cheechel. It is the closest thing to rest you’ll have until your oath to me is fulfilled and you successfully slay the Green Murder.”
Zima screamed. "No no no! Mish!" She yelled, taking the form of wind and trying to push the Equine back. There was anger in her voice now. "You leave now Song Demon!"
The Equine didn’t budge… though their mane and tail was blown around a little bit. “Don’t worry… he’ll get better.” They insisted with a surprising amount of confidence. “I was here to give him this blessing anyway - so he could go on his way without starving or dropping from lack of sleep, because he’s been trying so hard to keep to his word but his body was slowly betraying him… So I decided to take pity on him and made it so that his body won’t slow him down anymore. He won’t need food, water or rest to function… and even death is more of an inconvenience then a stopping point it should be now.”
Glancing down at the blood coated flute in their hand, the Equine added “As for that… I’m actually okay with honest criticism because… well, lies are bad and if someone doesn’t tell you an uncomfortable truth how can you deal with it? But he didn’t have to be a jerk about it.”
The spirit growled all the same but stopped her aggressive blowing upon the being as she realized it was fruitless. She seemed to still for a long time, floating around the body of Mish like some lost thing. “Death is… Death. No reason to kill. Cruel. No reason to die. Death is undoing.” She paused in thought before adding, “If what said is true, then Mish is corpse. Walking. Undead. Undying. Abomination. Against cycle.” She said in a voice like ice before her form began to coalesce into the shape of animal bones. “Mish words truth but harsh.” She seemed to agree, her shape changing to that of a small misty dove. It looked upon them. “You are like papa? Creator. God? What is your name?”
“In my defense, he had become an abomination against life long before I got to him.” The Equine answered earnestly. Before a little smile appeared on their face again. “You are very clever. Never let anyone tell you otherwise.” They took a moment to clear their throat. “When Mish-Cheechel made his oath, he swore it on the names of all the gods, known and unknown to him. As for my name… well…” A small, good humored chuckle actually escaped before he continued “Names are important little one and I have many. But for the sake of this conversation, I am the Keeper of the Tree of Harmony. It’s an utter delight to meet you.”
Zima kept a safe distance from the Keeper, never letting her eyes off him. “Delight. Perhaps. Papa said, if ever to meet another like him, to be true. To be polite. Never assume. But… It is hard. Mish was no abomination. Do you think he knew? Of such an oath made? Just misguided. Lost and afraid. Rage… Vengeance consumed. No question such what you did, not my place. Only wonder if truly deserved.” Her form changed to that of a mink. She hopped around Mish’s body. “When will wake?”
The Keeper shrugged slightly at the question. “I have no idea. His body will heal and he’ll awaken, but I’ve never done something like this before so your guess is as good as mine. Shouldn’t take too long though… I mean it was just a stab through the heart.”
As for the rest, they tilted their head… and the poofy mane flopped cutely to the side because of it. “I doubt he did at the time… but just because an oath is made with haste and pain doesn’t make it any less valid. I confess part of my motivation in this is to serve as a warning to those who hear the tale of your friend that one should be careful when calling upon the attention of the gods. I was meeting with the Lord of Parasites when we both heard the call… and your friend should be thankful my brother decided he had better things to do.”
Zima flashed between a handful of animal shapes, undecided on what to settle on. “Parasites…” She said aloud to herself before focusing her attention back at the Keeper in the form of doe. “Warning is received. I, Zima, will make that he know better. And any we meet.” She looked at Mish again. “Hurt runs deep.” She looked at them once more. “Do you, Keeper, know the Green Murder?”
There was a small ‘hmm’ of thought from Keeper as he considered the question. “Who’s that? I haven’t met them personally yet. Maybe if you tell me about them it’ll jog my memory.”
She became an eagle in flight. “Mish says green bird. Large. Terrible. She spoke anger. Kill many bjork. Many young.” She became a small bjork kit looking up at the Keeper with large eyes. “Is why he hunts Green Murder.”
It was with a degree of sadness that Keeper shook his head. “I have many kin and we generally have many different forms and names. All I can say for certain is that this was not the work of the Lord of Parasites, the Master of the Hunt, the Mistress of Destruction or myself. While it is true that all of us are able to inflict chaos and destruction as our duties and whims dictate, this Green Murder’s methods run counter to their desires and goals.”
“The Lord of Parasites’s hunger is great, but they prefer their meal being consumed over a period of time. The Master of the Hunt would not be involved in a messy mass slaughter, even more so when the target cannot offer a challenge by fleeing or fighting back. The Mistress of Destruction, despite her title, takes her duty seriously and strives only to test; She would have made it clear that she was only doing it to test if the bjork were strong and adaptable enough to survive in the world with no hate or anger behind her actions.” Keeper explained, before offering a small smile of their own.
“As for myself… I didn’t do it. Not only is the fact that I value my word and hate lies more than enough proof of that statement, but I can assure you that your companion would know if I had done it or not. A green eagle is such a tacky form to take after all.”
Zima shrugged. "Obvious. You are different shaped. Not green. You kill with song, not talon and tooth. Is there more to give now or would you leave before he awakes?" Zima asked, becoming like a cold serpent, somewhat reminiscent of a certain heat goddess if any knew. "He will be angry and attack you, I know. Safe for you, not for him. Understand?"
Keeper tilted his head in confusion. “What do you mean, kill with a song? I’m willing to accept that I might be something of an amateur when it comes to playing music but I honestly can’t help but think you’re being a bit over dramatic by claiming I’m so bad people who hear it die.”
The question about if they planned to stay until Mish-Cheechel’s awakening was a valid one though as Keeper rolled their shoulders a bit. “I think I might as well take my leave. I’ve done what I came here to do and as amusing as it would be to continue to come up with ways to protect myself, that would kind of be counterproductive to the whole ‘helping him keep his oath’ thing. Tell him I would wish him luck, but Luck is dead and buried.”
Zima became the flute he held. "Flute." She said. "Killed with song. Through heart." She became the small dove again. "I mean no disrespect Keeper. I will pass message along."
There was a moment of understanding as Keeper made an ‘oh’ noise before looking at the flute in their hand. “Oh right… that was a thing.” And with little more than a shrug the equine turned to trot away at a calm and steady pace, offering a final wave as they departed. “Take care little one. I’m sure there will be others keeping an eye on you and your friend as the performance continues.”
Zima said nothing else as the Keeper left and went back to circling over Mish's body. Not long after, the mighty bulk of the cave bear came and sat down next to Mish and nuzzled his body as a bear might nuzzle as a newborn cub.
"There there Bear.” Zima cooed. “Mish will be okay. Just angry. Very angry.” She twirled above their heads in the shape of a fire. “None shall now stop his vengeance."
Mish and Zima travel some more, Zima learns to talk better like the newborn spirit she is. Mish is basically dying from lack of sleep and food but his vengeance still burns. Soon enough animals begin to stampede, running past them as if fleeing something. This spooks Zima, who begins to act strange. Eventually they begin to hear music and more animals acting strange, as if trying to drown the music out. The two begin to leave upon Bear but stop when Aethel comes forth in the form of a pony/human with a flute. Some talk begins and Mish blasts their performance as absolutely terrible, which then prompts Aethel to run him through the heart with their flute, killing him. Not to worry though, after a tense talk with ZIma it is revealed Mish is now cursed for all time, until his quest for vengeance is sated. Zima and Aethel, whose name to them is Keeper of the flute or something, talk some more before parting ways. Leaving Zima and Bear to await Mish’s awakening.
1 Vigor to make Mish a Champion.
Aethel blesses/curses Mish: 5 Vigor all up. 1 Vigor in order to make it so Mish doesn’t need to eat or drink in order to survive or function effectively. 1 Vigor so that Mish doesn’t need sleep in order to survive or function effectively. 2 Vigor so that Mish can die or be killed in just about any horrible manner one can think of and despite being dead, his body will simply regenerate and he’ll return to life in due time. 1 Vigor for a hidden feature. [spoiler]In the event that Mish kills the ‘Green Murder’, her godly shard will be transported safely and intact to Aethel[/spoiler]
Zima started with 4 spirit
+2 for post =6 spirit
Mish-Cheechel is now a champion. Started with 0 spirit
DX3214
Not a Sayan
SkyeOfStars
Veilsight
