A Roar Under the Moons of Cylus

From Tried's Mouth to the mysterious Tower, the waters around Scalvoris and the island itself hold a vast array of secrets, just ripe for discovery. Here are landmarks and small villages of note, dotted in and around the island itself.

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A Roar Under the Moons of Cylus

Postby Qit'ria » Fri Mar 09, 2018 6:09 pm

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Xanthean Text
Kashehino Text
Cylus 7, 718

Qit'ria sat around her fire, sharpening her many blades with the whetstone she'd gotten from the man who'd shown her how to use it. She never did catch his name, but that was fine by her. The less people to bother her the better. And while she was no master at the sharpening of a blade, seeing as she had no file, no oil, she managed to make a decent go of it. She smiled fondly as she looked upon her plethora of weapons. It was good that she'd managed to learn at least some proper care for them. They were more family to her than any person she'd met on this island since her arrival last arc.

Her eyes fell on the many tents that dotted the edge of the tree line that indicated the entry into the Scaltoth Jungle. She was not the only hunter interested in the constellions this day. She remembered how two days back the fervor all started over a simple cloak. She had been sitting on a crate, eating a haunch of meat and sipping on some wine she'd purchased from Cally's after having dropped off her delivery of meat for Faith's restaurant. She hadn't seen the healer the last few times she'd stopped in, but she assumed that the healer was busy with the new babies.

And while Qit ate and drank in the market square, a young woman approached the fur trader she did business with. Qit had liked that man. He often gave her specific creatures to hunt, and gave her a fair deal for her pelts. She didn't have much need for money, but she had more than enough pelts for her own use, so selling the extra seemed a decent way to go. Maybe there would be something nice to buy one day, but she doubted it. She made or earned nearly everything she owned.

The woman was wearing a dark cloak, the back of which was glowing under the light of the moons of Cylus. It was a curious effect, one that was noticed by many that were lingering in the square. The glow was dull, faded it seemed. Qit'ria could hear the conversation. It seemed the woman was the merchant's daughter, and the light of her cloak was fading.

"No one is hunting constellions right now lovely. It's Cylus, and they reign supreme in darkness. You'll have to wait until next season. They are far too rare and expensive right now. Why pay twenty fold now when we can get them cheaper in a season or two."

Qit'ria, never the patient one, hopped up and approached the pair. "I hunt it."

The merchant looked at her in surprise, "This isn't like beavers or deer love. Constellions are packhunters, and hunt at night. I can't ask you to do that, too dangerous."

Qit's face turned hard. She glowered, then scowled, then glared. "I hunt!"

She turned away from the pair and made her way out of town, to head westward. It was two days journey from the town, and would be her first proper visit into it. And though she was the first to head that way, it seemed several other hunters were interested in the challenge as well.

And so back around her fire, Qit continued to set about her preparations. She watched as a handful of hunters all entered the jungle, and she shook her head. They were premature, in her opinion, and she could hear their movements from here. They weren't being careful, nor quiet. She was sure they'd be dead in a few breaks. Oh well, perhaps they could at least placate some of the packs, serve as distraction, or stomach fillers. Qit'ria pulled some ashes from her fire with a stick, and scooped them into a bowl. Using a stone, she ground them into a fine powder. She mixed in a little water, and stirred with her fingers, before adding a bit more to get the consistency she wanted.

This resulted in a black paint like substance. She gathered a dollop in her fingers, and applied it liberally to her skin, first around her eyes, then forehead and cheeks, all the way down to her neck. She repeated the process until every inch of exposed skin was covered in the black paint. Then she remembered her eyelids, and closed them and applied it there too. Blinking several times to spread it out best, she was content.

She cast her gaze to the sky, seeing clouds beginning to come in, but not yet blocking the moons' light. She would wait. To hunt now mean to make you an easier target. She fully intended to take every advantage she could. She checked over every weapon she had, before equipping them. Her javelins in their strap around her cloaked back, her chakram from her belt, her knives in various pockets, alone so as to not clink together, her sword strapped to her left thigh, and her spear in hand. She was ready, and waiting.

Kashehino laid next to the fire, tail flopping about lazily. She was always quiet before a hunt, and for that Qit was grateful. It wouldn't be much longer now until she'd set out. And there was a bottle of wine with her name on it for when she came back victorious.



[sptitle=Purchase]2x Bottle of Saun's Heat Wine - 12gn
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A Roar Under the Moons of Cylus

Postby Volker » Fri Mar 09, 2018 6:26 pm

It was night, and night had always had a special significance for Volker. He usually avoided going out at all during Cylus; it was too damned dark and darkness was dangerous for him. Not because of anything lurking in the black, but because it made him a little less human than normal. Oh, he looked like the sort of harmless creature someone would wave to during market. He was older, balding, and had a bit of a paunch. It made people underestimate just how strong he was from a life hauling around the dead.

He’d heard that one could pick up a fair bit of money hunting in the forests during the right season, but it seemed people had beaten him to the punch. There were tents scattered all over the place, and their stench was thick. Oil, leather, hunting dogs, horses, campfires and salted meat. No animal would find himself a mile within the area. Volker walked quietly through the camp. Gods above didn’t anyone have half a log for a brain anymore? Being a little chilly was well worth not sending up smoke signals. It did give Volker what he needed. All those boots churned up the grass into muddy soil, which he collected and slathered on his arms, face, and neck as he went. Any horse tack or blankets he rubbed up against like a cat, smearing their smell all over himself. He didn’t want to hide, he wanted to advertise.

Only one hunter seemed to have any brains; a girl without a tent, fire or livestock. He wandered through her area only long enough to give her a glance. Hm. She looked ferocious. Probably just as dangerous as their quarry. He made an odd face at her, one she might recognize if she’s ever hunted mountain lions. He bared his teeth, opened his mouth slightly, and inhaled through both mouth and nose. Humans had a typically poor sense of smell, and he got her scent rolled up in the cloud of smells surrounding them...but her message came through loud and clear. He gazed at her a moment longer, the plunged into the tree line quiet as a cat. Better to get started before the idiots came calling. Their noise would drive away everything. Constellions weren’t shy creatures but their prey was, and if you wanted to find a predator you found where his prey slept.

Volker picked through the first layer of the tree line carefully, trying to get a feel for the area.There was some deer scat, but it was cold and dry, and the animals long gone. He looked back briefly in the direction of the huntress he’d seen. Was she the ambitious type?
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A Roar Under the Moons of Cylus

Postby Qit'ria » Mon Apr 16, 2018 7:11 pm

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Qit'ria withheld her counter snarl she would've normally given as the old man came through her camp, challenging her. She watched him disappear into the trees, and could still hear him. She scoffed, listening to his heavy footfalls. She touched her hand to her aye-aye mouse totem bracelet and called upon the creature's sense of smell and hearing. She felt the mild drain on her soul, and heard the grumblings of her spark. It wanted more. She'd not been transforming as much lately and it was most certainly not liking it. The clouds broke free, and all three moons were shining down on the jungle the bright light falling upon several of the more amateur hunters.

And by the time the old man looked back her way, she was gone. Her feet were carrying over the mossy jungle soil lightly, she didn't need to hunt the lions, they would come. And all these other hunters out here were the bait. Her enhanced ears could hear several different paths being carved by her competitors, some of whom were using torches and speaking to one another in the distance. Fools.

A roar broke out over the jungle, clear, distinct. Qit'ria felt the unfamiliar desire to run and hide somewhere small, and it forced her to stop in her tracks as she fought back the urge. She gave pause, wondering why that happened. She'd been expecting to hear the roars sometime, and they'd never scared her before. It resounded once more, louder thanks to her aye-aye ears. Her.. she realized that must've been it. Taking on features of the mouse must have brought some of its cowardice too. Scowling, she realized it was just another thing she'd have to fight down.

The roars were constant now, and all out ahead of her, distantly, but from many angles. And soon, the yells of men and women came through. The pack had already arrived, and a buffet was being had. Qit'ria saw a leaning tree ahead of her path, and found herself running up the slanted trunk then leaping up and grabbing the first branch, hitting the trunk with a light grunt. She pulled herself up further and further, until she found a good stout branch. Hooking her legs over it, she hung down upside down, looking toward the sounds. In the distance, Qit'ria saw bobbing of a light, a man with a torch perhaps, running closer.

"Help! Help me! Please!"

He broke through the brush and was practically below her one three separate glowing lions leapt from the brush at different angles. A few quick bites and the man was dead, his fallen torch illuminating his corpse as the creatures ate. The sounds of slaughter still rang out across the jungle while Qit'ria watched them, taking only shallow breaths so as to not be heard. She wondered how the old man was doing. Maybe he was slow enough to have not come across any of the creatures yet. And soon, squabbling broke out in the lions, and the larger male ran off the two females, and was eating alone. Perfect.

Qit'ria slowly slid her javelin from its strap, taking extra care to make as little noise as possible. Once free, she rotated it until the corded grip was in hand. She then tightened her abdominals, and arched her back looking more like a coiling snake from the branch than a sev'ryn huntress, as she pulled the javelin back. And she waited, holding that strenuous position as she got her breathing under control, and focused. Right behind the shoulder blades was her target, hit a lung, heart, or spine with this throw. One more breath in, then, on the exhale, she whipped her entire body forward with the throw.

And it coincided with some noise from the brush causing the constellion to startle and move a bit. The javelin bit through its shoulder and embedded in the ground, a superficial wound. Using the follow through of the throwing motion, Qit allowed it to swing her forward in a half flip, getting her feet beneath her. She hit the soft earth with a foot and knee down, and immediately drew another javelin. She skipped forward and unleashed at the beast, he recoiled toward her in a growling leap. The javelin missed as it leapt forward, running toward her. Qit ran with the follow through, pulling her shortsword from its straps on her thigh. Coming in close, the lion leapt at her, and she twisted downward while stabbing upward, getting a strike in on its exposed belly.

It landed and turned to face her, unleashing a pained roar. There would be more soon if this wasn't ended quickly.
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A Roar Under the Moons of Cylus

Postby Volker » Mon Apr 23, 2018 7:35 pm

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Interesting. Volker listened to the noise of the men speaking. The smells they were putting out were one big bonfire. It coated everything and prevented the clean scent of the forest from advertising its wares. It was the biggest draw he was ever going to get for the constellions. He stood stock still for a moment, and a roar broke out over the trees. Volker flared his nostrils and listened. Trying to tune out the men talking and laughing. The muttering of horses and the crackling of fires. It was hard to do, and he had to stay still to do it; sifting through sounds and scents. There.

He heard the screams of a man asking for help, and a few seconds later the sounds of meat tearing and the man's final cry. A torch guttered close to the ground in the distance; that must have been where the man fell. Volker headed toward it, drawing a pair of blades from the roll attached to his upper thigh. One was short, only about a handspan in length, and the other was large. It was nearly the size of a short sword, and its hilt was made out of the femur of a man. The femur ball could be whipped forward and used to stun or knock unconscious.

Volker heard a loud explosion of sound as something leapt from the trees overhead. Volker slowed and crouched down; there was the huntress. She must have lunged down from the trees above on the feeding male, taking advantage of his distraction. He began to rotate carefully around the scene, watching her miss with her javelin. It thudded into a tree trunk next to Volker. She had a sword sword now, and had taken advantage of the cat's leap to slash at it's underbelly. Now the animal was angry, and it turned toward her to express it. A loud roar of pain. That was all Volker needed; the cat completely distracted.

He lunged out of the bushes and slashed at the cat directly above its hocks. It was a bit like clipping the achilles tendon on a man. The cat wouldn't be able to leap, barely able to walk, and would have to drag itself around by its forelegs. That meant, barring it's teeth, it was effectively declawed unless it wanted to flop over. Volker backed away quickly; he expected the cat to pivot on its injured rear and swing back toward him to try and get a strike or two in. That meant its sides would be perfectly exposed to the huntress. Volker hissed back at the cat, and moved out of immediate striking range. There had been two more females...and he needed to listen for them.



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