Veshka is well acquainted with blunting the effects of spirits on one's thought processes, even the more prosaic, alcohol based ones.
Meanwhile, Hakana checks the trail to Rockloom.
"Seems pretty clear. The following should be able to travel safely."
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However, his idea of "organized" is a bit different from what most would consider efficient. Tools end up sorted by color rather than function, bundles are tied but not very securely, and some loose materials are simply piled up, creating mini-towers that wobble precariously.
Watching from a distance, Valda shakes her head. Once Strongjaw has run out of steam, clearly thinking he's done a spectacular job, Valda steps in. With a single glance, she takes in the state of the camp and exhales deeply, knowing there's work to be done.
Flexing her mighty muscles, she sets to work. Tools are sorted in a way that actually makes sense, separated by type and use. The bundles are not just tied, but double-knotted and securely fastened. The loose materials that had been piled into shaky towers are neatly arranged into compact stacks that wouldn't topple over with a strong gust of wind.
With each lift, her muscles strain, and by the end of it, her skin is glistening with sweat under the sun. But as she looks around at the now immaculately organized camp, she knows it's been worth the effort. Where Strongjaw saw a "Treasure Hunt," Valda saw a responsibility— and she fulfilled it to the best of her considerable abilities.
With deft hands, she reaches in and begins to remove the more toxic herbs that contribute to dehydration and grogginess, replacing them with benign counterparts that she knows won't compromise the essential character of the brew. Her eyes glow momentarily, a subtle sign that her connection to Catamoch is aiding her in fine-tuning the process.
Once the more problematic elements are removed, she adds just the right amount of clean water to the baskets, diluting the spirits enough to lessen their side effects without diminishing their intended ceremonial impact. As she steps back, she knows she's hit the perfect balance.
The Broken Tusks may not recognize the subtle artistry that went into her task, but tomorrow morning they'll undoubtedly appreciate the absence of crippling side effects, thanks to Veshka's expert touch.
As he investigates, he discovers the source of the noise: a small nest of bloodseekers, parasitic creatures known for their annoying and potentially dangerous bites. With a focused expression, he decides that leaving the nest in place is not an option; it poses a risk to the herd and the tribe.
Taking out a small tool, he carefully dismantles the nest. However, this action angers the two resident bloodseekers, who burst out in an aggressive flurry, ready to defend their home. Hakana and the other scouts are prepared, though, and a few well-placed blows swiftly neutralize the threat. The bloodseekers, not much of a match for seasoned scouts, are quickly dispatched.
The afternoon sun hangs low in the sky, casting warm, golden light over the Broken Tusks camp. People are gathered around large cauldrons, where meat simmers and fills the air with mouthwatering aromas. Spirits are poured into cups, creating a buzzing atmosphere of anticipation. Everyone knows the Night of the Green Moon is near, and the sense of communal celebration is palpable.
Amidst the wafts of hearty stew and the clinking of ceremonial cups filled with spirits, the Broken Tusks settle in around Argakoa, their respected Songsinger. Her voice, seasoned by many winters and even more tales, rises over the gathered crowd. Today, her story is about the "first winter," a season so cold that it turned the world and even the moon itself ashen white. As she narrates, her words paint vivid images in the minds of her audience, compelling even the most restless children to listen intently.
"When spring broke the chill, the moon was so overjoyed, she gave birth to a river of stars," Argakoa continues. Her eyes twinkle as she gestures to the sky, where the celestial river, often called the Moontail, graces the heavens. "And so, every winter, the moon tucks her starry children under a dark blanket, only to reveal them again in the spring. Tonight, we celebrate that revelation: the Night of the Green Moon, when the world bursts back into life."
A pause follows, a collective breath in anticipation of what comes next. Argakoa's gaze then falls upon her songsingers in training. "Now, it's your turn," she announces. "Tradition isn't merely about the past; it's a living thing, passed from one generation to the next. Remember, the tales you choose to tell will become a part of our collective memory."
She turns to Strongjaw and motions for him to rise and tell his tale.
Kadosh turns and watches. At one point, he thought he might be a Songsinger, but then the spirits hinted at another path for him.
Amidst the wafts of hearty stew and the clinking of ceremonial cups filled with spirits is seen our Goblin, along with The White Rabbit. Both Witch and Familiar are seen boisterously enjoying each cooking pot filled with delicious stew, potatoes and especially the carrots!
When Argakoa's gaze then falls upon her songsingers in training, both Goblin and rabbit look over at her both still chewing! Spitting, sputtering, spilling freshy chewed stew and potatoes (but somehow not the carrots) in every direction, both Strongjaw and the White Rabbit run to stand directly in front of the Songsinger.
Wees gits ta tells stories now!
The White Rabbit begins setting up a mini portable stage that he parts together with an overturned pot and a shield (is someone missing a shield?) forthe budding Songsinger to stand on during his recital.
Excitedly approaching the makeshift stage, Strongjaw stops to truly admire his friends work.
Is this things safe?
The White Rabbit confirms this with a hearty thumbs up!
Slowly climbing up on said stage, the wobbly Goblin begins his oration.
Four score and seven of dem years ago....
The White Rabbit makes a farting noise!
Strongjaw clears his throat.
Excuse me. Wrong speeches. One of them moments....
The aspiring Songsinger begins digging for his speech....
Resigned to winging it, the Goblin clears his throat.
The snows fell forever. The ice blinded your eyes as the brightest of sun's watched, smiling down at its foul works. The filthy winds pushes and pulls, prods and pokes, picks at your clothes and plunders your stuffs.
The frosty realm of Irisin is not kind. My fates was held by the fickle mind of the Witch dat my cage belonged to. She was not of the kindest.
The time came for my times with her. She taught me strange words to pronounces. She taught me how to call to the ice. I heard it. She was excited, overjoyed, definitely surprised. I was a witch
The Witch grins.
It was a coldest of nights when her retinue, including myself were out on some mission here in the Lands. She was hunting peoples from our clan. I didn't like it. I froze her to help our people.
He turns his blue eyes to fall on Argakoa's.
You saw that. You adopted me. Strongjaw is a Songsinger!
As Strongjaw finishes his tale, a story imbued with the grit and wisdom of the land, Argakoa smiles proudly at her pupil. "Well told, Strongjaw," she says, offering a nod of approval. The tribe feels a moment of collective warmth, knowing that their history is safe in the hands of a new generation.
With that, the feast begins in earnest. The smell of freshly-cooked moose meat fills the air, a result of the scouts' successful hunt a few days prior. Stewed alongside roots and herbs, the meat provides a hearty meal that boosts spirits and warms bodies against the chill of the coming evening. Spirits flow, but they are carefully diluted, ensuring that tomorrow's journey won't be hindered by grogginess.
When the feast winds down, the Broken Tusks proceed to Rockloom for the sacred rites of the Night of the Green Moon. In a hallowed clearing surrounded by standing stones, Merthig the Firekeeper lights a monumental bonfire. "This fire is good," he booms, and the crowd erupts in cheers. With great solemnity, members of the tribe place ceremonial water baskets around the fire. These were filled at the sacred Gornok River and represent the essence of life.
Merthig then explains the profound balance between fire and water in the philosophy of the Broken Tusks. "Fire gives us the wisdom to know right from wrong; water gives us life. Together, they give us sustenance and balance," he declares. The crowd listens attentively, their faces flickering in the light of the bonfire. Though fire and water can be at odds, like the individual against the collective, they are essential elements that enable the tribe to survive in the unforgiving Realm of the Mammoth Lords.
Finally, the moment everyone has been waiting for arrives. It is time for announcements and celebrations. Talismans are bestowed upon various members of the tribe, tokens of honor and recognition. The party, having contributed significantly to the welfare of the Broken Tusks, is among those honored. Each receives a talisman, a physical representation of their status as valued followers of the Broken Tusk.
The ceremony concludes, but its spirit lingers as the tribe disperses, their hearts filled with a sense of community, tradition, and the sacred balance that sustains them in their harsh yet beautiful land.
The standing stones of Rockloom rise from the plain, each animal sculpture glowing orange in the last flush of the setting sun. Grandfather Eiwa beams at the assemblage, his wrinkled face a bit more youthful with the addition of colorful paints.
He stays silent for a moment. Then, like thunder, he releases a guttural shout. “Ah!” he booms. The rest of the following shouts back in unison, then turns quiet again. The old man smiles. “It is a good night,” he pronounces. “The Green Moon has graced us with good weather. The Gornok River has blessed us with water. And our scouts have honored us with good food."
“Tonight, we mark the moment winter turns to spring. We also mark the transition from friend to follower.” The elder takes a handful of small tokens from MammothLord Merthig. “Together, let us honor our newest Tusks.” The crowd whoops and cheers as he motions toward the newest members of the following.
Eiwa asks the scouts and all new to the Following (including Pakano and Shaggy Shemven), to stand before the following and state their names and houses.
Hakata rises without ceremony, and introduces himself in a quiet, but firm voice:
"I am Hakata, of Otter House. I am honored to contribute to the following."
The goblin and the White Rabbit busily chewing on freshly-cooked moose meat shout
Valda stands before the following and thumps her fist to her chest. "I am Valda the Shining One, of Musk Ox House! Weaned of the teat of the Blood Mother! Bearer of the godly spark!"
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I suppose I should have put this in the previous post:
Each member of the Broken Tusk following belongs to one of four different houses. Each is led by a single high-ranking Tusk (who’s also typically a Mammoth Lord, though not always). House members spend most of their time with one another, sharing duties, forming friend groups, and occupying the same communal sleeping tent.
Each house is represented by a triad of animals that individually embody courage, cleverness, and resilience. Broken Tusks typically identify themselves with just one of the three animals represented in their house, and their personal effects often feature that animal.
• Falcon House (headed by Eiwa), which includes hares and glyptodons.
• Moose House (headed by Nakta), which includes bears and ravens.
• Musk Ox House (headed by Merthig), which includes saber-toothed tigers and bighorn sheep.
• Otter House (headed by Argakoa), which includes wolves and aurochs.
Your new hairy friend proudly declares "I am Shaggy Shemven and I am Otter House!"
The Mammoth Lords present Pakano, Shaggy and the scouts each with a Broken Tusk pendant carved into the shape of their house animal. Grandfather Eiwa hardly disguises his pride for the party. He offers a particularly heartfelt congratulations to each scout individually in turn. Pakano, meanwhile, receives no more special treatment than Shaggy Shemven, who, in place of a pendant, receives a small but beautiful black-and-blue hawk’s-eye gemstone. Tears of joy stream down Shemven’s hairy face. With that bequeathal, Grandfather Eiwa steps back into the following, having completed his part of the ceremony. However, one Broken Tusk isn’t quite ready for the pronouncements to be over.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Pakano asks suddenly. All eyes turn toward the young man, who has stood up and is glaring at Eiwa. “It is time, Grandfather,” he says, his face flush, “to announce your successor. Who will become leader of Falcon House?”
Broken Tusks gasp and whisper at the boy’s insolent question, but Eiwa’s face doesn’t crack. “You are headstrong, Pakano,” the elder says soberly. “And hasty. Tonight is not for you, but for all Broken Tusks.”
“If not now, then when?” Pakano cries. “And if not me, then who? Don’t tell me you’re actually mistaking these fools for true followers of the Broken Tusk?”
Eiwa offers no response, only a stern glare. Pakano whips his face toward the other pendant recipients and
scowls, his eyes full of hate. “You’ll be sorry,” he growls. Then, to everyone, he begins to launch into a tearful tirade, “You’ll all be sorry—”
Before Pakano can finish his rant, a loud, oscillating cry interrupts him. In the darkness beyond the standing stones, a torch flame appears, then another, and then several more. Everyone, including Pakano, looks around in confusion. Murmurs rustle throughout the following.
Someone begins yelling. Monstrous faces covered in blood-red markings emerge from the fiery darkness. From that moment, everything else is a blur.
The Burning Mammoth warriors have found the Broken Tusks, and they begin their violent attack on the ceremony with awful, hair-raising glee. Meanwhile, Wipa utters a sharp cry and drops to her knees: she has gone into labor, and Nakta the Healer comes to aid her.
Three Burning Mammoths wielding flaming torches rush towards Wipe and Nakta!
Everything suddenly comes to a head all at once. Valda growls angrily as she hefts her blade. "Protect Wipa and Nakta! Keep them away!" Her belly marking glows, her beauty both glorious and terrifying as she rushes to attack!
Strongjaw and the White Rabbit proudly stand still (barely a bit of fidgety) both smiling at Argakoa.
Both Goblin and rabbit congratulates Shaggy Shemvenfor his inclusion into the Broken Tusks.
They both send raspberries at the Loud Mouth of the South, as Pakano cries.
At the sudden sights and sounds of attack, both Witch and Familiar poop!
Busily cleaning up is why they are not first to react....
Valda's hasty swing misses its mark, giving the Burning Mammoth an opportunity to evade. As she regroups from her missed attack, another member of the Burning Mammoths takes advantage of her vulnerable position, setting her clothes ablaze with its torch. .
Having ignited Valda, the creature turns its attention toward the scout's defensive line, charging forward while triumphantly lifting its torch and bellowing a war cry on behalf of the Burning Mammoths.
Simultaneously, a second torchbearer advances, positioning itself opposite the first, effectively flanking Hakata at the far end of the scout line. Caught between the two foes and unsure whom to face, Hakata suffers the same fate as Valda—his clothing is set alight. .
Noticing that Valda is already aflame, a third torchbearer opts for a different tactic. Swinging the club held in its other hand, it lands a solid blow to Valda's ribs. .
As she doubles over from the attack, the Burning Mammoth leaves her and charges straight for Wipa! As it charges it lets out fearsome battle cry, shouting,
Strongjaw simultaneously screams like a little Goblin, makes gas(?), and points at the Green Burning Mammoth!
You ruin my pants!
The Songsinger begins singing at him too!
Goblin Song
It bees gits cold i 'ere! So bees put'n back on yer clothes!
The Witchthen causes the Burning Mammoth to begin freezing!
Clinging Ice Ref DC 17
Kadosh doesn't have time to announce himself before Pakano's outrageous behavior and then the attack. No chance to declare his name, or his membership in Moose House. No, this is not good, not good at all.
Torn, he wants to help Wipa as quickly as possible, he fumbles for his spear and bells and stabs the nearest attacker, but the point goes wide in his haste.
Hakata draws the dagger from his belt and mutters in pain at the burn. He feels the spirits of earth and fire dance near him, but he instead enchants his voice, commanding the raider afflicted by Strong Jaw to flee from the fray.
Valda rushes back to help Wipa, bringing her sword down on the Burning Mammoth!
Valda flanks the foe near Hakata, slashing twice!
Catamoch thrashes wildly at the nearby torchbearer, probably trying to save Wipa?
Veshka follows up on Catamoch's wrath with rage of her own at the attack on her mentor, flailing the attackers with the lightning of her ire!
Catamoch's hoof lands with a resounding thud on the torchbearer closest to Wipa, swiftly followed by a bolt of electrical magic from Veshka that takes down the first adversary. Amidst the chaos, Wipa cries out in pain, her labor intensifying.
In his eagerness, Kadosh fumbles with his spear and bells, thrusting at the nearest attacker but missing his mark.
Strongjaw successfully instills fear into one of the Burning Mammoths, unnerving him. Hakata follows up by using an enchantment on his voice to command the shaken raider to flee. However, the Burning Mammoth hesitates, resisting the magical compulsion, and growls at Hakata for attempting to manipulate him.
Seizing the opportunity, Valda lunges forward to attack the enemy behind Hakata, delivering two rapid slashes and finishing him off with a devastating blow.
The last remaining Burning Mammoth, watching his comrades fall, bellows in rage and buries his club into Hakata's ribs with considerable force. Reeling from the impact, Hakata is then hit by an upward swing of the club, striking him critically in the forehead with a bone-crushing sound that sends him sprawling to the ground.
The Witch frowns at the fallen Hakata.
Git up elf!
The Witch then causes the Burning Mammoth to begin freezing!
As Hakata falls, Valda leaps over him to get to the last Burning Mammoth. Heedless of her own burning clothes, she slashes at the enemy!
"No!" Kadosh calls out, sizing up what's left of the enemy after Valda is done with him. He stabs furiously, right into the attacker's chest.
As Strongjaw helps Hakata to his feet, both warriors turn their focus to eliminating the last of the Burning Mammoths. Just when they think the threat has been vanquished, a cacophony of shouts reverberates from the opposite side of Rockloom—another, larger band of raiders is attacking from there. Sensing the urgency, Nakta momentarily shifts her attention away from attending to Wipa. She quickly casts a healing spell on the injured among you, urging, "Go! They need you!" before resuming her care for Wipa in labor.
Bursting into a sprint, you traverse the chaotic battleground of Rockloom. The scene is grim: raiders brandishing torches ruthlessly attack villagers who were in the midst of festivities just moments ago. House leaders from the four Broken Tusk clans are yelling for their people to retreat toward the Gornok River—shadowy archers, hidden in the cover of night, loose arrows into the desperate crowd. Bathed in the ghostly glow of the full moon, the raiders show no mercy as they toss sacks of flaming pitch into the crowd. One audacious burnbearer has even climbed atop a mammoth, setting its fur on fire; the animal's agonized screams drown out the rider's battle cries. Another burnbearer lies crushed beneath a mammoth's massive foot.
But the gravest threat appears to emanate from the far end of the rocky circle. There, a formidable force of Burning Mammoths is led by a hulking shieldbearer, who stands triumphantly over a fallen member of the Broken Tusk. It's unmistakable; this is the commander orchestrating the assault.
Nakta's spell heals all of Valda's burns, leaving her in prime condition. As she races across the battleground, she moves her immanence into her blade, the ikon glowing with silver moonlight. Upon spotting the commander, she lets loose a rallying cry as she charges towards the shieldbearer!
Hakata's body is healed, though he is wounded by the attacks. He trades his dagger for a shortbow and calls upon the spirits of battle that linger around the ancient, sacred stones.
As he runs, Kadosh tries to watch the Burning Mammoth leader, sizing up what might work against him.
Closing the distance, the party can make out three distinct enemies. The red-clad one in the center wields a shield and appears to be the commander of this group. To his left is a black-clad torchbearer, like you just fought. To his right, a blue-blad hunter like you fought previously when locating the tapirs.
Kadosh knows these are Burnerbearers (torch guys that lit you up last time), Burning Mammoth Hunters and what's known as a Burning Mammoth Longshield. The Longshield will attempt to muscle you about with its shield and utilize it to its advantage.
Valda rushes for the commander, slicing with her blade!
Kadosh moves in close and crouches behind a rock, ready to ring his bell and call the spirits to help.
As they run to battle, Vehska grabs Valdas sword by the blade, giving it an impromptu baptism in the blood of her grip. "Spirits of blade and battle sharpen you, spirits of blade and bone await your feast"
Veshka and Catamoch hustle forward, Veshka taking a place at the edge of the fray while Catamoch smashes into the closest raider.
The raider dodges past Catamoch's charging tusks, but the demon boar doesn't slow for an instant, trampling his prey with hooves like chunks of flint.
The White Rabbit hurriedly hops behind Strongjaw as the goblin runs for the trio of malcontents!
Valda strikes the commander, finding an opening that his shield can't cover. Empowered by Veshka's spell, Valda's magical strike delivers a serious blow to the Burning Mammoth!
Catamoch charges ahead and slams into the Burning Mammoth in front of him, landing another solid blow with his hooves.
The blue-clad enemy goes first, sliding around behind Valda, flanking her. Once it place it thrusts its spear into her back, chanting loudly as it sinks home in her flesh. It rips the spear from her body and tries to stab her again, but loses its footing and misses.
Now flanking, the shield commander spits out a mouthful of blood and is shaking badly. Despite this, years of experience tell him when to attack and as Valda get hits from behind by the other Burning Mammoth, the commander strikes his flanked target. With a warcry, he spears Valda, this time skewering her in her neck. Just as he is about to strike, Vadosh emits a strangely discordant harmony with his implement that distract the commander, enfeebling him. Despite that however, he still manages to land his strike on Valda As blood spurts out of her body, he buries his shield into her body with a critical strike! The abuse is too much for exemplar, her body crumpling to the ground a bloody mess. .
The shield commander raises his shield, emboldened by their ability to take down Valda.
The burnbearer that Catamoch brings his club down into his skull with another critical string that leaves makes the boar's whole body shake. . It tries to strike him two more, but neither attack lands.
Blue
Red, Enfeebled 1
Black
Veshka snarls as the demonic rune on her forehead drips fresh blood. "Back on your feet, O Shining One. I just woke that damned sword up, so you don't get to nap!"
Catamoch flails his tusks at the foe, but clearly he's more than a little bit dazed by the blow to his head...
Valda goes down, but not for long. As the healing magic invigorates her, she stands back up, picks up her sword, and attacks the shieldbearer!
Hakata maintains his connections to the spirits of battle and fires two shots at the spear-wielding raider that attacked Valda.
for
for
Huffing and puffing, panting and pitifully, painfully holding his side, Strongjaw develops tears, as he measures his distance from the Burning asshats.
Twice squared carried the seven divided by the circumference of a trapezoid....
The White Rabbit slaps the goblin!
Get a hold of yourself, man! You're a witch not an engineer from U of M!
Shaking his stinging face, Strongjaw takes a deep breath and...
We're all about to diiiiiieee....
Kicking the panicked Goblin in his Jimmie, the White Rabbit just points!
Meekly (and sporting fresh tears) trotting, limping to stand next to Veshka, the Witch gives her a weak grin.
Well, this sucks.
The Goblin then calls on his patron to electrocute the two closest burning asshats!
Still reeling from his earlier hit, Catamoch tries to kick the adjacent Burning Mammoth but fails to connect.
Channeling the energies of combat spirits, Hakata releases two arrows aimed at the spear-wielding raider who had earlier targeted Valda. Unfortunately, both arrows veer off course.
Revitalized by Veshka's restorative magic, Valda regains her footing.
Newly invigorated, she seizes her sword, and unleashes an attack so fierce that it cleaves through the shield commander's defenses, severing the arm that wielded the shield. The commander collapses, rendered unconscious.
Strongjaw's electric spell ricochets between the last two adversaries, electrifying both. The bolt incapacitates the mammoth facing Catamoch, leaving just the enemy behind Valda, still standing.
HP 18/18
AC 17
Fort +7, Ref +4, Will +5
Hero points: 0
Effects:
Kadosh studies the remaining attacker in the area, stepping close to stab at him.
With a well-placed thrust of his spear, Kadosh eliminates the last Burning Mammoth, neutralizing the immediate danger. As the scouts pause to catch their breath, they realize that the larger threat still looms in the distance. On the horizon, the flickering lights of countless fires advance toward Rockloom. Even with the defeat of the vanguard, an entire horde of Burning Mammoths is still approaching. The Mammoth Lords of the Broken Tusk quickly marshal what's left of their followers, urging everyone to grab what they can and make a hasty retreat.
Letsua bows his head and raises a hand, waiting for everyone to be silent. “Not in my long memory has such violence befallen us during what was intended to be a joyful celebration. My heart wilts with grief. Sister Cinder give us strength to take up the fire and find bright righteousness in this dim hour. We must return to camp, gather our things, and leave as quickly as possible.” As Letsua finishes speaking, the sound of an infant’s cry echoes across Rockloom. The cry is followed by another, and then another.
During the battle, Wipa gives birth to triplets.
Valda's face is grim as the following prepares to retreat. But the cry of Wipa's newborns brings a smile to her lips. "Hark! Even in this dark hour, light shines. Three blessings come to us. We will not let grief win."
She moves to help Wipa as best she can.
Hakata looks out over the battlefield that Rockloom has become and stares beyond, out at what seems a sea of torches in the distances. The flicker of fiery apparitions makes everything a shimmering haze, and the young scout can feel the anger of the spirits like an oven breeze against his skin.
"Yes, we must go as soon as possible. I will go to the herd and tell Imek."
Part 2: Journey to Red Cat Cave
With the threat of the Burning Mammoths now apparent, the Broken Tusk following must flee to the east to escape the encroaching horde.
As you regroup, four Broken Tusks are noted as missing or dead from the surprise attack—one of the missing Pakano, who hasn't been seen since his outburst at the ceremony.
With the Tusks’ best scouts injured or out of commission, it falls to the newest scouts to guide them. Thankfully, the following knows the way forward well, having traveled it each year for as long as anyone can remember. The next few days are chaotic as the Following flees. Before traveling very far, however, the party receives some sad news: Grandfather Eiwa is dying.
Members of Falcon House are the first to hear that their avuncular house leader is close to death. At night, Eiwa rests fitfully at the center of the Falcon House tent. Three members of the house take up vigil beside his deathbed, including a songsinger tasked with memorizing the venerable Mammoth Lord’s oral tales as best as he can tell them. Other mourners wait outside the tent for further news.
Two mornings after the Broken Tusks begin their flight from Rockloom, Grandfather Eiwa summons the characters to his bedside. As they pass into the tent, nearby mourners repeat a simple chant: “By Fandarra’s blood you were born; into Blood Mother’s womb you return.” Argakoa the Songsinger is already at Eiwa’s side, repeating the chant. She lowers her voice so Eiwa and the characters can speak, but she doesn’t stop chanting.
“Young Tusks,” whispers the dying man, his deeply lined face and wavering voice so brittle and ancient. “It’s time I told you the rest of the legend of the Primordial Flame. I have already told Songsinger Argakoa. Her mind is like soft wood. She carves my ramblings into stories, so she can help you on your quest”—he takes a deep, ragged breath—”when I am gone.”
Argakoa gently places her strong hand on Eiwa’s shoulder. The old man tells his tale in halting gasps. “My mother, Sidke. She and the others—the ones who would become the first Broken Tusks—they took the flame to Red Cat Cave. East of here. They hid it there, under the protection of a noble beast named Syarstik. Every year after, we would go to make sure it was safe. But,” Eiwa wheezes, “it was not. A handful of winters, and then it was gone. My mother saw with her own eyes. The terrible, tormented spirit of Syarstik. The empty dais, where the flame once rested. Syarstik’s enraged spirit attacked her, and she fled with the other Tusks. We never went back.”
He lets out a sickening cough before finishing. “Go there. We do not know who took the flame. But Syarstik, angry as he is, might still remember. Calm his spirit and find the flame. We have waited far too long. It is time to use the Primordial Flame to reunite our people.”
Exhausted from the effort, Eiwa falls unconscious. His breathing ceases not long after.
Dread trickles down Veshka's spine, driving out words that grief and respect might otherwise restrain. "It's no easy thing to soothe a spirit taken by Wrath."
"A spirit's nature is more flexible than we give them credit for," Hakata thinks of the grumbling of the half-stoked fires and the spirits of battle that so frequently wander the Realm.
"Still, you are right, Veshka. If the spirit is wholly given to rage, it will be very difficult to deal with. Grandfather, are there landmarks that we will know the cave by?"