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Barayi Yara
Somewhere on Li's Island
“Shush!”
“This was my hiding spot!”
“I said be quiet, Tak’Takk!”
“B-but, I was here first!”
The two children glared at each other before they heard the running of feet and the whipping of shrubs, bringing a silence to their bickering. Tak’Takk, a boy just of ten years, peeked his head out to glare between the leaves of the shrubs that he and his sister were hiding in. His head was a full red, but his eyes were as gray as could be, making him the only Valthumir in his family. Meanwhile, his sister, his senior by perhaps a few minutes, clasped his shoulders as she too tried to gaze out of the shrubs.
They saw nothing.
Their game of hide and seek had grown tense, as another child had grown closer and closer only for the sounds of running and shrubs breaking to come to a sudden halt. They again tried to see where their friend had gone, this time seeing his feet and a knee against the ground as he inspected the shallow tracks had. The two knew then and there that they had been found, and as they saw their friend stand up and take a single step towards their shrub, a shadowed mass blurred past and suddenly their friend was gone.
The keen eyes of the kids had barely been able to register what had happened.
“What was that?” the sister had whispered.
“I don’t know, Tek,” the boy answered, leaning closer to see what had happened before deciding to move back, “I think it’s a trick.”
“He doesn’t play tricks, Tak,” the sister hissed in a silence, shoving him to the side ever so slightly.
“What do you mean? He played a trick on me the other day!” Tak’Takk argued, pushing back and digging his fingers into the ground before a noise to their left caught their attention. It must have been their friend, so the two pressed themselves closer to the ground, nearly pushing the other out of the hiding spot. Eventually, the steps got softer and softer as the sounds originated farther and farther before, making the children giggle in the cleverness to hide from their friend.
Tak’Takk poked his head out of the shrub, laughing as silently as he could. He would eventually crawl out of his hiding space before confusion wracked his face as he looked where his friend had been. The boy did not see any footprints of his friend, in fact, he could barely see tracks to what had moved past their hiding spot in general. He leaned down to see further, only to see barely noticeable indentation of what looked like bird feet, though he was no hunter, he could only guess that some large bird had come by. Tak’Takk’s first thought was perhaps a hawk, but it must have been one large hawk to have been making a track like this.
“Tek! Look at this bird track! “ he urged his sister, almost jumping up and down in excitement at discovering something so big. His excitement grew into impatience as he went to drag his sister out of the bush, his sister who slapped his hand in annoyance.
She looked at the track and immediately her look of annoyance morphed into excitement. “Wow!” she exclaimed as she looked even closer, “How big do you think that bird is?!”
“Like this~ big!” Tak’Takk said, holding his hands out to show a possible wingspan of the bird before his sister stood up.
“Nu uh! It’s this big!” Tek laughed making her arms stretch out even more, attempting to make a bird bigger than her brother.
Before the two could start another competition they heard the voice of their father in the nearby , “Tak’takk! Tek!” The two could only glare at each other before racing each other through the trees only to meet their father at the treeline. He stood over them, arms crossed, with his red hair tied back into a ponytail.
“Tak’takk, weren’t you supposed to help your mother earlier? Tek, are you not meant to help gather firewood for the evening?” the father asked, the two children only looking down knowing how they had gotten distracted by their game.
“W-we were playing San’Kek,” Tak’Takk explained timidly, only hearing the father sigh before going down onto his knee. He felt his father’s touch on his shoulder, his father raising Tak’Takk’s chin so that he may look his son in his eyes.
“I know the allure of play, Tak’Takk, but we all must work to keep our people alive, you know this,” he said, shoving aside emotion to make sure the child knew the priorities of the people came before play. Tak’Takk could only silently nod as his father stood back up, raising his spear as he stepped past the children. “Go on, go do your duties,” the father said before walking off.
The two children looked at each other before running back to the people so that the people may thrive.
Hours had passed, day twisting into the sick night as a full moon echoed over the land and bathed the land in a dark light. The people were quick to settle into their huts in order to escape the terrors that lived during the night, eager to to hunt for their next meal. However, one family was less than eager to settle in and it was the father that went to the family of Tak’Takk, at their door with worry and spear in hand.
The boy could hear the talk from his bed, picking up the worried voice, “San’Kek has yet to come home! We don’t know what to do.”
“”Do you know where he might be?” Tak’Takk’s father asked in a hushed tone in an attempt to not worry his children, or wake them up for that matter.
“He disappeared during the day, but-,” the other paused for a moment as he collected himself, “Other families are having their children going missing, all of them from today.”
Tak’Takk could hear the gasp from his father, then some shuffling about before his father spoke again, “We will not lose anymore children, come we need to search for them.” Their voices faded into the distance, Takk’Takk could hear his mother shuffling about as she checked both of her children, laying a hand on each. The worry should have left the child, but there was no calm knowing that his friends had been going missing. Had he and his sister been lucky? Perhaps they were just playing a big trick that he was not invited into.
Whatever was the case, Tak’Takk knew not what to make of the situation and he would have focused far more on the well being of his friends had he not heard something outside the walls of his hut. At first he thought it was his father, but then he heard the sound of claws scraping against wood, and a light giggle of a girl. His head shot up as he looked out, seeing his mother exit the hut to investigate the sound before quickly returning to go for a club.
“Mother, what’s going on?” Tak’Takk asked worriedly, his sister waking up from her sleep Isaiah a more than confused look on her face.
The mother stepped towards her children and went to speak, “Be quiet, there is-“
Something jumped on her back, knocking her forward and as she went to scream, her sound became gargling and gasping for air. Tak’Takk could not believe that sight in front of him, for what he saw was far from natural. He saw, standing over his mother’s corpse, the frame of a bird, lacking feathers and flesh and even anything that belonged on the inside of the body. Blood travelled down its hand, it’s talons, as it dropped whatever had come out of his mother’s throat. The boy was too terrified to scream as its glowing green eyes focused on the boy.
“Wrath will be so happy with me!~” It said in a sing song voice as it stepped towards the frightened children, reaching out to them.”Come my children~ We must leave this place,” she said, grabbing Tek’s hand, causing the child to scream in true terror. The skeleton recoiled in surprise for a moment before putting her bloody hand to the child’s mouth before a swift movement caused the girl to fall unconscious.
“Welp. Guess that could’ve gone better,” she said with a laugh before its green eyes looked to see the boy who was terrified beyond reasonable belief. He pressed his back against the wall as the skeleton took a step towards the child before leaping forwards.
“These things are smart,” a voice whispered, watching a line of Vallamir move in front of them, its glowing eyes watched them take note of the strange tracks from where the first child had been abducted. They were a distance away, hidden in the branches of a tree as it looked over to the other Aroiox. “They might find where we put them,” it growled, before the other put out an affirming hand. While unable to show expression, Wrath knew what Vigilance meant, knowing that they had a duty to their people.
“We just need Ecstasy and Terror to get back with the last two. Loathing and Grief will be able to keep the children hidden, all we have to do is make sure they stay confused,” Vigilance stated, keeping his eyes firmly placed upon the living things that grew nearer and nearer. Then a shrill scream pierced the air, bringing the attention of the two undead back to the village, as well as the attention of the search party. “Ecstasy has been found,” he commented.
“Then let’s get to it,” Wrath growled before swiftly moving from the tree branches, shortly followed by Vigilance as the two began to create inhuman screeches as they moved after the trackers. The skeletons were surprisingly adept at moving between the tree limbs, their taloned feet grasping each limb as they ran and swung. Their movements were quick and decided, their undead minds keeping them from second guessing themselves as they quickly caught up with the trackers, still moving as fast as they could.
Their screeches were directly overhead the people before Wrath’s head snapped up as a spear got caught between his ribs, causing him to lose his pace and fall to the ground. A long fall was followed by a snap as well as the continued inhuman screeches of Wrath. He ripped the spearhead free of his chest, unable to feel the pain as he attempted to get to his feet, only to crumble back onto the ground. He saw that a few of the trackers split from the group to double back. Wrath growled to himself before spotting the lower half of his left leg, grasping it and holding it to where it had severed before the green magic that his god had taught him to use, forcing the bone to reattach, albeit sloppily.
Then the living were upon him, only stopped at the sight of the magic and then as terrored confusion made its claim across their faces as they saw what abomination was in front of them. Wrath’s wings spread as he let out a snarling noise at the people, clearly keeping their distance despite having clubs and spears which would make short work of the hollowed bones of the Aroiox.
The Undead and the Living have met for the first time, one more clearly frightened and cautious while the other was fearless and determined.
Vigilance was motionless above them, slowly moving his body to be able to pounce when the need arose. Being sure to not make a sound lest he wind up in a situation like Wrath had managed to in his overeagerness for the plan. However, he heard the sound of shouting from the group that had continued back to the village, then more shouting, it grew closer.
This was not a part of the plan.
Everyone turned their heads in the direction of the noise, to see another two undead bird running through a field with two unconscious children, followed by the less than pleased populace of the village. One of the birds were screaming with terror.
Wrath and the group of trackers looked to each other, back to the two running undead and back to each other. Wrath looked to Vigilance, the group followed the gaze and saw Vigilance, the initial terror had grown to confusion. Vigilance looked at Wrath, the group looked at Wrath and everyone looked back to the mass of people running through the field.
After a moment of contemplation, the small group began to quickly begin running through the woods as well, Vigilance pouncing off his perch and rolling along the ground before springing into a run alongside Wrath.
“Was this a part of your idea?!” Wrath roared.
“Not in the slightest!” Vigilance responded, looking back at the group chasing them and pushing Wrath’s head down as another spear soared to him, only missing with Vigilance’s intervention.
The two groups eventually merged into one as both parties sprinted through the tree line, the living unable to throw spears out of fear of hitting the children. At least, that is what Vigilance thought as he looked back at them, seeing that soon enough, the limitations of blood and flesh were taking their toll on the Vallamir. They grew tired, even in their determination to get their children back, it slowed them to a point where rather than gaining on the undead, they were falling farther and farther behind.
As the Undead continued their sprint, Vigilance turned his head toward Ecstasy, “What happened to my plan?”
“Didn’t like it. Thought it would be funny to have them chase us,” Ecstasy laughed before continuing, “And it very much was, my friend.”
“I hated it,” Wrath commented.
“You hate everything,”Ecstasy countered.
“You single handedly undermined this entire operation,” Vigilance said, looking back at the now tired people, only the trackers who were smart enough to conserve their energy in a prolonged chase were able to somewhat keep up. However, the Undead now had time, at least enough to retreat back to their home. “Weeks of scouting and planning were ruined,” he continued as they ran.
“But it was funny!”
“It was stupid!”
“Shut up, Wrath!”
Vigilance sighed before looking over at Terror, who had at least stopped screaming. She was carrying the boy, the boy who seemed to be stirring.They had little time before resistance began, resistance that they could not afford, but at the very least, they were close to the place where they had been hiding. A small outcrop in the side of a hill, the previous occupant had acquiesced to their request of using as their camp.
As they neared, Terror felt the boy struggle and push against the undead’s head, causing the Aroiox to become frightened and drop the precious cargo against the ground. Almost immediately, the boy began running in the opposite direction. Wrath went to turn to give chase, but quickly saw the trackers still on their heel, their forms coming through the mist.
“Leave the boy! We don’t have anymore time thanks to Ecstasy!” Vigilance shouted, earning a grunt from Wrath before he too turned tail.
When the hunters managed to retrieve the boy and enter the outcropping, all they found was the corpse of a movle, it’s skeleton protruding from its body and contorted into something almost unrecognizable. However, it was clear that wherever the Undead had gone, the children were also with them, though Tak’Takk remained.
Bukradul
Turn 3
Akrosh had truly blessed these people, the white stag being a boon that their choice to settle into this land, albeit harsh, was the right move for these orcs. Guthug knew this, and for the blessing of Akrosh and his mighty stag behind him, he would be eternally grateful even into his death. The thing that made him happier was his people jubilant over his success, now being able to tame animals of their own knowing that their gods were watching them. Even as he settled some stones at the base of what was to develop into his home, he would see people place their balled fist over their hearts as a sign of faith.
However, as he set stone after stone into place, the thought of those bearmen and how they had given them an idol and the symbols of various animals that Akrosh had trained. Guthug paused in his building as he took the pouch off of his waist, opening it to examine the crudely made idol only for the vivid memory of that event to play within his mind. When he felt a ginger hand touch his shoulder, he almost jumped as he believed that one of the bearmen had come towards him, but when he looked to see who it was, he saw that it was his wife.
Technically, however, she was not his wife, but they were betrothed, only unable to marry in this new land for there was no ground that had been consecrated for such an occasion.
“Yutol…” Guthug said softly, a smile coming across his face as his hand went to touch hers.
Yutol, a large and imposing figure compared to most other females of tribe, let out a laugh at Guthug’s jump as she sat next to him. As she moved her body closer to his, she could not help but spy the pouch that had been gifted to him. “What is that?” she asked, inquisitive.
“A pouch gifted to me by bearmen I met on my trial. They gave it to me after I mentioned Akrosh,” Guthug stated, holding the contents of the pouch up for Yutol to see.
“That was nice of them,” Yutol said simply as she looked at the items before she looked back at Guthug, “Perhaps you should seek them out to give them a gift for such a successful trial.” She twirled a finger around the dreads of his hair before leaning her head upon his shoulder.
“A fine idea, but we have nothing that would make a good gift just yet,” Guthug said, his eyes moving to the ground as he shut his hand around the gift. He knew he would have to look for something, knowing that the kindness that had been bestowed onto him must be reciprocated lest there be a breach in the kindness that the stag stood for. Guthug knew that he would have to search the nearby lands for anything that may make for a fine gift.
“What of our wedding, Guthug?” Yotul asked.
“We must wait, the shamans have yet to consecrate any ground.”
“And when will they?”
“When they have attuned to the land,” Guthug answered with a huff.
Yotul let out a sigh, clearly displeased with such an answer but unmoving from her position next to Guthug. The two had not been able to marry in their past land due to the circumstances of war and the divide in faith, but now they found themselves hampered by the will of the shamans while all they could do is be patient or go against what was sacred once more. Nobody wanted to experience a second conflict after being forced to flee.
“I will talk to them once I have finished our home, if they have not by then. For the time being, I only ask for patience,” Guthug said as he moved to stand.
Yotul looked at him with an indifferent expression before speaking, “If that is how you feel.”
As Guthug walked off, he looked to the unfinished wall, seeing many people working to erect it so that those wolves would not be so bold in their attempt to steal what food they had. He approached some who were taking a break from the tedious building and motioned for them to follow. They obeyed their chief without question.
“We will roam our territory for things that would make for fine gifts,” Guthug said simply as the group grew, men eagerly wanting to serve their chief even if it were for a simple task. By the time they left the camp, they had grown to fifty men, all ready to dig or craft with what they find in their new lands.
Vakk looked to its children, walking as slowly as it guided them between the pillars of madness within the Infinite Maze, taking not of their inherent lack of interest in doing much. Though, they were alive and that was all that Vakk could be happy as it finally reached the stairway again, noting how much easier it was now that Eurysthenes could not actively change the maze at will. There was a pause as the Lord of Speech, stepped towards the exit of the maze, the undead Aroiox stopping behind it and merely watching their creator.
”My children, you do not have the ability to create more, yes?” the many voices asked, not turning from the exit.
The undead looked to each other for a moment, unspeaking before one stepped forward. Speaking in a clearly disinterested voice, “We are but mere bones, Lord Vakk.”
Vakk put a hand to its chin, wondering how best to remedy the situation of reproduction to allow its children to thrive upon Galbar like originally planned. It’s godly gaze rested upon a single outlying Aroiox, one who merely cocked its head at the god as the Lord of Speech stared at it before the thin veil that hid its mouth erupts into a wide and devilish smile. Vakk approached the skeleton before leaning down to be eye level with it.
“Eurav,” the Lord of Speech said before the glowing green eyes of the Aroiox grew brighter.
“Y-yes, Lord Vakk?” the aroiox squeaked, its body shrinking back in a clear display of submission and timidity before it realized the emotions it could feel. He could actually feel once more, though she could not feel in the physical sense, as he touched his talons together, before letting out a laugh at feeling even disappointment. The glow of his eyes shifted as he looked to the other of what was once his kind.
“I-I- Emotion!” he laughed, unable to find words to properly express all the different waves of emotions that came to him. Unable to cry and unable to use any facial expressions to show that very wave. He looked back to Vakk, feeling the phantom muscles of its face pulling to show happiness, but only the lower part of his beak separate as he attempted to show it.
”It seems that you can be given back your emotions, but there are too many of you to complete the process individually,” Vakk said, its gruesome smile plastered firmly on its face as it watched the emotional Aroiox tried to encourage his kin to feel as happy as he did. However, each one gave but a mere polite clap in response to support someone they generally did not care for.
One turned to its lord, before asking, “I do not see what this has to do with our reproduction.”
Vakk held out a hand to he who had felt emotion, ”Child, choose those to given part of your emotion to, each will be the harbinger of a specific emotion and each will be used to aid in the creation of each additional Aroiox.”
The aroiox looked to the mass, he first pointed to one, then another. Seven were chosen to stand alongside him.
”It is you eight who will facilitate the creation of your children, though they may not live or feel as you eight shall, perhaps, in time, you may find a way to bring back the emotion that you right shall feel. It is you eight, the Barayi Yara, who shall look to other races that inhabit Galbar. It is the Barayi Yara who shall lead the Aroiox and guide them to a golden age to last until the end of days!”
Vakk extended its hand out before the part of the soul that held emotion was split from the first, eight separate segments transplanted into the eight. Each a different core of emotion. Vakk looked to the chosen, allowing them time to revel in their new emotions.
”It is you eight, who must shape the bones of youth, convert them to undeath,” Vakk turned to the exit of the Infinite Maze, urging the undead to follow it through.
When they exited, gateway, those spiraling stairs into the heavens, the Undead found a land that distorted their sight and a ground that seemed almost as if it tried to grip them. Vakk inspected the landscape, still bearing its wide smile before turning back to its children to see them semi-curiously looking around and exploring their new lands. Swahhitteh was theirs for the taking, but Vakk new the ground was no place for their mind, for if they stayed then it would only prove increasingly troublesome for them. But it knew that it could not teach them everything, that it must learn to allow them to invent and do what they must on their own.
However, it first looked to the Barayi Yara. They would need a method to traverse Galbar easier and far quicker if they were to gather the necessary beings for conversion. It’s idea soon came to mind as it took the dirt below it and folded it in open itself to the point where it grew black and distorted the light around it. Vakk attached a handle to it, fashioning it from a branch, turning it to a metal so that the Barayi Yara may send someone to fetch them their youth.
”This shall allow you to traverse to any surface of Galbar. You must touch it, or someone else touching it, for it to work. But, might I say, it is possibly the greatest creation to travel Galbar. Now, I will need to to teach you to shape bone and reverse death,” Vakk stated, showing them the very bell that it had used to bring them back from the dead, they watched with mixed reactions, as to be expected. ”The power of Undeath, not a perfect process, is capable of greatness in your hands. I will give you eight the power directly. But you must learn to wield it for I can not teach you everything.”
“But what if we fail you?” One said, a voice overtaken by the grief and sorrow of being dead for a shorter skeleton.
”You can only fail me by not putting in the effort, my child.”
With that, Vakk touched each of their foreheads with a tendril, gifting them with the knowledge of Galbar and giving them to power of Undeath. It then brought them all into an embrace, hugging them as any parent would do for their children before it straightened itself, putting its hands behind its back. It took a singular step back before it spoke one last time to its children.
”I will be watching… I would also advise to nest in the trees.”
Vakk had left and the Barayi Yara held the staff that it had gotten them, the one holding it letting out angered noises at having to hold it. He looked over to one who seemed glued to the staff, almost as if it were in awe of the staff that their creator had gifted them. Wrath shoved the staff into Ecstasy's hands, allowing her to hop in in excitement as she held it in her hands. He looked around the group before a gruff voice sounded from it, “What do we do now?”
“We follow Lord Vakk’s orders, we must add to our ranks,” Admiration stated, standing proudly as he met Wrath’s eyes.
“But why should we? We are undead! We have until the end of days, and who knows when that will be?!” Wrath questioned, angrily stepping forward as Admiration gave an answer that he clearly did not want. He let out the sound of a sigh, before continuing in on a more calm, yet annoyed, voice, “I know we have to add to our own, but we also need to look after them. If you couldn’t tell, they are hopelessly uninterested in furthering any interesting interests.”
“That’s why we gotta give show them the path to joy!” Ecstasy said ecstatically, swinging her hips as planted the staff into the ground. She held herself on it by wrapping g her legs around it, as she continued her own spiel, “We need to know how to make some emotions happen for them or else how else is Lord Vakk going to appreciate all the joy we feel for him?”
“Speak for yourself,” Wrath chided.
“I would say that our best option would be to split our focus. One of us should scout a good location to find youth while others await and try to figure out how to restore our emotions fully,” Grief said, mumbling as the others simply stared at her. She shrank back in response as the others nodded their heads in polite agreement.
“Now who is gonna do the scounting?” Ecstasy chimed with a laugh.
Aurix
When the fat man landed on Achthend, spooking the horse and almost causing it to run into what may be assumed to be certain death, Aurix was less than metaphorically happy. In fact, the lizardfolk made an approximation of what emotion to use on the situation and decided that aggression would be the best course of action. Of course, even though she noticed the others attempted to calm the spooked horse, there was no calming something that only she could.
The lizardfolk stompted over to the horse, grabbings its reigns and snapping her jaws like the predator she was before she stroked the horse’s snout. It took a few moments of the horse stomping its own feet, declaring that it disliked the fat man, before it finally obeyed the lizardfolk. It whinnied as Aurix patted his snout.
Then, her golden eyes looked over to the fool who had managed to fall onto her horse, summoning her blade, a longsword with a large glowing eye on its hilt, looking right at the cleric, as she pointed it to the cleric. “I will use your bones for daggers and your fat for torches if you do that again,” she snapped at the cleric, a loud and audible hiss coming from her maw before she turned away to tend to Achthend, noticining the bruising on his back.
Aurix led the horse around the corner, awaiting for her comrades to lead the way.
I'll try and get that post out in a bit, I have just been a bit busy
EDIT:
A small post to help us move along.
EDIT:
A small post to help us move along.
You want to be next to the horse you landed on and the horses handler?
Aurix’s position will be towards that back, probably 4 with Achthend at 2
An Alliance
The threat of annihilation loomed over Galbar, total and unrelenting, as the forces of desolation made their march to threaten the very existence of life.
Yet, ten years ago, such matters were beyond the very concept of the mortals that inhabited the planet. One such being was the God-Queen of the Aspasian Tribe, Atmav, the one who defeated the mighty Yimbo in combat so long ago out of result of misunderstanding and bloodlust. While still brutish, and very much a warrior, Atmav’s more feral side had been blunted by the teachings of Damocles, who had taught the woman to rule benevolent over the once frightened Selka. It had taken many years before the Selka were finally at ease with Atmav, despite her initial hostile takeover.
Two generations of Selka had come into the world under her rule, and those who could remember the times in which her hand was not there were either dead or elders close to death. Now, she was seen as a boon to the Selka under her, and a usurper to those that surrounded her, despite her not having any intent to expand past the borders she already had. It was those borders that she guarded with a ferocity known only to the lizards of the north in the Bloodlands.
Now, she was awaiting a meeting with the Ubbo, to speak of the matter of the ever growing threat of large tribes, such as the Hyummin. Met at the very border that she so fiercely guarded day after day to ward off the encroachment those larger tribes would occasionally dare. It was these incursions that urged her to meet with the Ubbo, those forming a coalition to do away with the threats that the larger Grottu and Hyummin posed. Her pale, tall figure stood upon a hill, confident and unyielding as her starlit wings extended to strike a more imposing figure. She was flanked by two other silent Selka, both bearing the marking of Aspasia.
It was not long before the Ubbo Tribe arrived. Their chieftan was a tall, formidable Selka, wiith a bow slung over his shoulder and a sharktooth necklace. Beside him was an older man, who carried himself well despite his age, and behind them were eight warriors. As they ascended the hill, however, most of them seemed uncertain or nervous about the strange alien figure which towered above.
The two leading them, however, appeared undaunted. “I am Chieftan Milos, of the Ubbo Tribe,” their leader introduced himself, stepping forward. “Are you the one who calls herself God-Queen?”
For a moment, the woman merely tilted her head down to acknowledge them for a moment before she spoke, “Yes. I am Atmav, God-Queen of Aspasia.” She reached behind her to pull forward her orvium greatsword, resting it in the sand in front of her as she seemed to look past Milos.
“I have heard that Ubbo have been forming a coalition,” she said simply as her eyeless face seemed to inspect those who seemed uncertain of her presence.
“You heard correctly,” Milos nodded. “And many have already joined.” He looked her up and down. “You know, God-Queen is an unusual title… especially when there is no god named Atmav.”
“I have ruled over the Aspasia before you were even a pup and yet I have not aged. I am mightier than any beings that I have encountered, other than the god, Orvus,” her head tilted back to face Milos directly, her words clear and concise, “Compared to your people, it is a fitting title.”
“We’ve met gods,” Milos told her. “You do not compare to them.”
“I was made by a god, directly forged to be superior to many mortals. I know my limitations, but that does not stop me from offering a challenge,” Atmav commented shifting her blade in the sand as an indication.
“I’ve always preferred the bow,” Milos said with a shrug. “And I have no intention of starting a fight over mere titles and words. We aren’t the Grottu. So, back to why we are here…”
Atmav cleared her throat, “Right.”
“The Hyummin have been increasingly bold in their encroachment of our territory. Specifically, the Grottu, but that does not matter. The point is, while I have the capability to match them upon the land myself, I can do little to them in the water. They have been exploiting that fact and I am in need of assistance as my people do not have the number to match them on our own,” Atmav explained, looking to the Selka on her left.
The once silent male stepped forward to speak, “We have had only one skirmish with one of their hunting parties while they attempt to steal from a school of fish that lies within our waters. We are lucky that event did not start a war.”
Milos’s eyebrows rose. “A skirmish?” he asked. “Who attacked first?”
“We did, we had to defend what we need to feed our own,” the Aspasian said.
“How many dead?” came the chieftan’s next question.
“None. Perhaps that was to only reason we managed to avoid open war, though we had many injuries on our side, the last I remember,” came the answer.
“As you can hear, if the Hyummin wish to take our food from us, all they need to do is send more of their hunters. Eventually, we will not be able to contest them at sea,” Atmav said, the aspasian male stepping back.
Milos considered her words in silence. And then, just when he was about to speak, the older Selka spoke up. “Allow us to talk about this in private,” he requested.
“Very well,” Atmav said, drawing her blade from the sand before resting it upon her shoulder. She took a step back as she motioned for the two she was to come to her, turning her back to the Ubbo as she spoke with them.
Milos and his advisor stepped away as well, turning their backs as they put arms around each other’s shoulders, and their voices fell into whispers.
“What is it, Hoshu?”
“She wants to join our pact. Do not allow it.” Hoshu cautioned.
“I’m wary of her myself, but what is your reasoning?” Milos asked.
“She nearly started a war over some fish,” Hoshu pointed out.
“But she says the Hyummin were encroaching on her territory. If that’s true… stealing food is serious. Remember the stories of the famine?”
“I do,” Hoshu nodded, “but we didn’t need to go to war over it, and she doesn’t need to go to war over it now.”
“If the Hyummin keep pushing, then it sounds like war will come anyway. She’ll lose, they’ll take her land, she’ll be driven into ours, we’ll have more mouths to feed, and then they’ll come for us next,” Milos argued. “The entire point of this pact was so they can’t push us around like that.”
“You don’t know a war will come,” Hoshu insisted, “and if it does, she might be the one who drags us into it. Or she might try to take over us. She thinks she’s a god.”
“But she isn’t one, and our own gods can protect us from her,” Milos assured him. “Trust me, I know how to handle this.”
And with those words, the Ubbo Chieftan returned to the meeting ground. “I can offer you a place in our coalition,” he told her. “As an equal. What you call yourself among your own people does not concern us, but at our meetings you’ll refer to yourself as Chieftan, like the rest of us, and you’ll have as much say as anyone else - no more, no less. If you accept that, we can help you. We’ll put our weight behind yours, set a boundary, and tell the Hyummin to advance no further. They’ll probably listen, but if not, what happens next is on them.”
For a moment, Atmav stood silent, considering her options as she looked back to her two followers. After a long moment of deliberation, the queen nodded her head, “Very well, if it means that the Hyummin will be kept at bay then who am to disagree with such a simple request?”
She extended a hand to the chieftain in order to seal their pact as allies. Milos accepted it, and shook.
“I look forward to being able to tell the Hyumnin to stay off our land,” Atmav said as she stepped back, turning away from the chieftain as she brought her blade to rest upon her shoulder. She motioned for her followers to move with her as she stepped down the hill, leaving Milos and his men to their own devices.
Present Day
“Keep running!”
“Don’t look back! Get to the b-“
Blood littered the sand as a boulder fell onto a Selka, with enough force to send the other flying. He landed on his back with the wind knocked out of him, dazed and unable to move, though still able to comprehend the situation he was in. Though, what could he do when he spotted a rocky being barreled through the tree line, roaring in anger.
They had encountered it along their western lands, patrolling for any sign of Hyummin intervention in their lands. It slaughtered nearly the entirety of their party, their attempts to fight it had proven only to make it angrier and more wrathful. But now, it had followed those who had escaped to the very beaches where they could be able to run, yet, the only survivor could do little but crawl towards the sea as he felt the very earth tremor as the being approached, laughing. He could turn just in time to see it reach for him, it was then that the Selka gave into fate and merely watched as the rock reached for him.
Then, sparks flew as something caused the Ihokhur to real back in surprise , sand kicking up as it scrambled backwards.
“Get up, boy!” A harsh, feminine rang in the Selka’s ear.
Atmav stood over the seal, clutching the Desolate Greatsword as she stared down the Ihokhur her wings of the nights spread in an act of intimidation. However, the sight of a being with a weapon made from Orvus, alongside a blade base from Kalani’s own flesh, confused the creature. Who, upon standing to its full massive height, momentarily forgot the angrier that it had felt.
“What are you?” It asked, looking to the wings then back to the sword.
Atmav was silent, before sand kicked into the air once more, her four wings flapping powerfully as she went to a speed that caused the Ihokhur to momentarily wonder what was happening. Then, sparks flew once more as the blade contacted the body of the great being, a powerful force causing it to stagger back once more.
“I have been looking for a reason to use this blade that Orvus had forged me,” came the bloodthirsty voice of Atmav, the Ihokhur looking up to see her just out of reach
“I will tear you limb from limb before Kalani does!” It roared once more, moving to pick up the boulder. A scarlet beam cleared through its shoulder, but it reached the boulder and haphazardly threw it in the direction of Atmav. The boulder had come close to hitting Atmav, who had only dodged due to knowing what the beast was doing, but it brought her close enough for her to meet the back of the Ihokhur’s hand. Sending her sailing into the sand, the beast quickly charging after her with a blood-curdling roar.
A scarlet beam then found its way to the glowing indentation on its head, it stopped the charged in its entirety as the beat fell upon the sand, clutching what it used to see. A sustained beam came through the mist of sand, the Ihokhur roaring in a panic before fleeing into the forest.
Atmav, taking in painful breaths as she gripped the side where the Ihokhur had hit her, definitely feeling cracked ribs. Her form crouched onto the ground.
The Selka ran to her side, falling into his knees before her, “God-Queen!”
“Boy,” Atmav said, clenching her teeth in pain, “Why did you not run?”
“I could not abandon you, my queen.”
“Good, help me to my feet,” she commanded as the Selka rushed to her side. “When we get back to the tribe, send messages to the other tribes,” her words were cold.
“We are going to war.”
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