• Mature • Dark Element

[Saevar]

2nd of Ashan 707

The smouldering coals of the fire went out sometime in the night. Sævar gave a shiver as he came to, even bundled as he was in furs and borrowed rags. The furs he'd hunted and trapped for himself, while the rags had been gifted to him, which came from unfortunates who crossed the path of his friends, the Children of Dusk. The Dark Mother's servants, that made certain that her rule over the wide swathes of forest were respected, and that her ways observed.

He didn't see them very often, all told. More than the Dark Mother, certainly, but not enough at any point to make him feel sheltered by their orbit. Still, there were often signs that they'd been about him, when he wasn't looking or noticing. Signs of a parcel of food or berries left out for him, gathered from the surrounding forests. Of course, these gifts became less frequent the older he became. Just as their presence was less felt than it had been when he was very very small. Back then, they'd been near constant companions, defending him against all manner of wild and civilized threats.

Now, grown enough to walk and move about on his own, and filled with knowledge that a long life alone in the wilderness had imparted, he felt more and more his own creature.

So it did come as a bit of a shock, as his eyes adjusted to the light of very early dawn, that he saw one of the Children staring back at him, from beneath a growth of brambles.

He spoke in riddles and nonsensical utterances. But some of the words did have contextual clues as to what they wanted, or meant for him. "Child." It said.

Then it pointed off into the distance, "Longtooth, move soft."

He rubbed his eyes, smiling at the Child. Within a few moments, he crawled onto his haunches, and began inching forward. Once he was beside the child, he peered over the small elevated root that the child was pointing over. Squinting hard, his eyes wideneed as he beheld an elder stag. His heart nearly froze, as he realized how close he was to the animal.

The Child of Dusk whispered, "Soft step still. Rill, dill."

Sævar kept low as he did just that, stepping softly away from the direction the stag lay in, maintaining a low posture as he went along. The Child crept along with him, and as it did so he learned a few moves. Sometimes, quadropedal gait could be useful for the purposes of remaining close to the ground as one sneaked through the underbrush. Thus he did so, creeping low to the ground, supported by his hands, as if he were climbing horizontally across the ground with methodical ease.

He heard the stag snuffling as he went along, but didn't suppose he'd been spotted yet. Stags could be very territorial this time of year, and Sævar had no desire to anger it or rile it to charge. The points on that stag's antlers worried him, needless to say.

[Saevar]

He roamed through the dawn hours, until the Child wandered off, leaving him to his own devices as she slept somewhere in the shadowy canopy above him. He didn't know if the Children of Dusk slept truly, or if they merely retreated to those shade-dappled boughs to escape the harsh light of day. Regardless, Sævar continued along, going at his pace as he crept along the forest floor, observing and watching and sometimes picking an edible plant from the surrounding forest. His guardians had taught him early on which herbs to avoid, generally, and which to seek out. There were a small number of plants that were truly poisonous, and they didn't grow in too much abundance, thankfully. Occasionally he'd still come across some new herb, which he kept on him so he could show to the Children, and see if they'd cast it off or offer it back to him. That was how he could tell when an ingredient was not harmful.

The many-pointed stag that he'd encountered earlier that dawn was a distant memory by then, and so he crept along still, maintaining a low posture even though he didn't perceive a specific threat. His travels took him far to the south, past the civilized huts and log-palisades of what he only knew was called Fensalir. He could tell of their passage, or the potential of their activity by noting the rhythmic noises they made, and also the measured tracks they tended to leave. Being afeared of the civilized folk, and having had negative interactions with them in the past, he avoided their settlements. They appeared not to enjoy the look of raggedy poor children or other forest dwellers.

In his time as a young child, he'd even come to regard the voices of people to be a source of fear. Their structured utterances, their sing-song tones, and deep voices served a warning to him, when he was close at hand, that he was best to stay low until they passed.

After a long day's travel, staying close to the ground, nearly on all fours, Sævar saw that Dusk was approaching again. He searched familiar landmarks and terrain, knowing that there must be a small outcropping beneath the roots of a tree that he could find shelter beneath. The snow and leaf cover on the ground crunched beneath his feet as he found just such a place. Yet, as he made his self to become comfortable beneath the house of elements, he noticed in the distance a spark of a campfire. Men were near.

Betrayed by his own curiosity, and abandoned by his sense of self-preserving caution, he approached that campfire. There, he saw a trio of large men. Larger than any human had a right to be. One of them must've been at least seven feet tall!

Amazed at the size of these bearded strangers, he watched them fling the corpses of their quarry down next to the campfire, and proceeded to gut and skin them. Among them, a young doe. It looked as if the large men had hunted a small herd of elk, without consideration for the age of all those they hunted.

Sævar watched, unable to turn away, horrified as they butchered and skinned all of the animals. Not for horror of the death of animals, but the youth of some of the specimen. The Dark Mother would not have this...

[Saevar]

Right as the thought occurred to him, so did a heavy hand fall on his shoulder. Although he'd been able to get within sniffing distance of the loud brutes, he'd failed to notice that one of them had been shadowing him. In a moment, he went from standing crouched on his own two feet to being bodily lifted into the air, and hauled into the camp, closer than he ever wished to with the barbarian trio, now a foursome.

They uttered some guttural nonsense in a language he couldn't even recognize. A series of bungling sounds that had the waft of questioning him fell upon him with force, each one looking at him in turn as if trying to sense the slightest thought or recognition behind his eyes. Instead, they looked at each other, and began bellowing laughter. Then they went on carrying on slaughtering their catch of the last few trials.

One of them cut a small piece of meat from the doe, and began firing it, charring it and cooking it. Before too long, it was heated well enough for eating. Or so the barbarian seemed to think. He offered the sacred meat to Sævar who turned up his nose and made a face at the meat, unsure if it was even proper to show disgust toward the sacrosanct that had been so blaspphemed. He only knew that these large men would be cursed for harming such a young animal.

The barbarian grunted, and then took the meat from Sævar's face, and bit down on it himself.

It was then, that Saevar thought he could sense the atmosphere subtly changing. He heard the voices of the children whispering in the darkness beyond, although the men around him seemed not to. Their ochre and black shining eyes in the darkness, glinting with firelight watched the debauchery of slaughter with malicious interest. One of them, a small thing, leapt upon one of the barbarians, effectively pinning him against the forest floor to his surprise. It was entirely jarring for the man, Sævar was sure, to have such a small thing weigh upon him so heavily. Yet the Children were heavier than they looked, and could effectively pin a creature four times their size, if not more.

The rest of the barbarians kicked up at this, and Sævar took the opportunity of confusion to slip away into the darkness. He made his way from that cursed circular campfire, and watched from the darkness. He barely noticed one of the children creeping up beside him, to also watch as two more joined the slaughter of the Lotharro.

Sævar watched, and waited for the slaughter to end, noting the kill techniques of the Children and committing them to memory. Although their methods would seem only pertinent to the abilities of those creatures, he thought he could learn a thing or two about these strange barbarian humanoid's particular vulnerabilities...

Thus was Sævar saved by the Children of the Forest from the quartet of barbarians. And not saved for the first, or the last time he was sure. So long as he kept the faith, he counted on these creatures as part of his own kin.

[Winston]

Review & Rewards

Name: Saevar


Magic xp: N/A


Skill Review: Appropriate to level.

Feedback

Hi there! I really like your post template btw, it looks super-cool.

I also liked the way you get exposed to situations out of your league without overstepping to solve the problem. The use of the Dusk Children is nice and I very much enjoyed your thread.

I can see that it's still early days for this character, so wish you the very best for their coming development

Please enjoy your rewards in the UCP!

Rewards

• XP: 10

Knowledges

• Stealth: Keeping low to the ground as you creep along can limit your visibility
• Stealth: Using four hands to simulate the noises of a wild animal, and also to distribute your weight for the purpose of limiting noise.
• Hunting: Stags can be very territorial during the spring months, as they seek mates.
• Hunting: The points on a stag's antler's denote thier danger as a potential quarry.
• Stealth: Slipping away in the middle of the confusion of an ambush and attack.
• Hunting: Watching creatures kill one another can teach one of their particular vulnerabilities.

Winston's Catch of the Day is YOU!