The Great Chieftain Wammsutta Thunderstick of the Kinkanoa has called a gathering of the chieftains. Not ten days ago, his elder brother Bakkata (at the time Great Chieftain) fell dead mysteriously on the road outside Elesomare. He had just concluded a peace talk with the Lord Governor Branden Kern. The brothers' father had kept the tribes at an easy peace with the white man, trading land for guns and other manufactured goods. Slowly selling off the land of the tribes, fearing what would happen if he refused to sell ever more to the greedy foreigners. After the old chief passed away Bakkata assumed the mantle and had demanded a stop to the purchases of land, and to the building of new settlements. The colonists refused, and Bakkata's trip to Elesomare was a final attempt to convince them otherwise. With his brother dead under suspicious circumstances, Wammsutta is determined to gather an army capable of driving the foreigners back to the sea.
The gathering is being held deep in the forest, around a massive clearing used for this purpose since ancient times. Rarely have you seen so many greenskins in one place. There are hundreds of men gathered here to hear the words of Wammsutta. The clearing is full of hide and cloth tents and cookfires. The season is early spring, and an icy chill still grips the air, snow still lies on the ground. The morning of the address, four strangers find their tents all placed around the same campfire.
Tekumsah looks just a little out of place among the clearing. Although he is tall and muscular, there are many warriors larger than he. Although he wears some traditional greenskin clan fetishes and jewelery, it is not in abundance, and some of his clothes seem more like those worn by the settlers.
Most of all, though, is the man's true appearance. His skin, unlike the hues of green, brown, and other tones of the greenskins, is a creamy color normally seen only among the northern white men. His hair is a silky black, left long and flowing, and interwoven with some small bone and wood fetishes. His eyes are a piercing, dangerous blue, and look about warily.
While not very imposing or large, Tekumsah has a presence, as his deeds have traveled before him. A hero of his tribe, which was destroyed almost a year ago, this young warrior has already carved a name for himself, having put to death dozens of the enemy already.
He certainly looks the part of a warrior. He wears many weapons-- a short naval sword at his hip, a tomahawk across his back, a pistol strapped to each thigh, a gauntlet with forearm spikes on one arm, and a long quiver on his back. Two powder horns hang across his chest, a third wrapped around his belt. But most impressive is his bow-- a great, six-foot recurve fashioned from hardwood, antler, and bone. It is carved with images of great cats and hunters, and looks as though it would take a man of great strength to manipulate.
Tekumsah sits by the campfire, warming himself and cooking a rabbit carcass. He glances at the others around the fire and offers a small grin, nodding and putting a fist to his forehead in greeting.
"Tekumsah," he says, his voice not as deep as one might expect. "Sometimes called Amund, and sometimes called La'Awethikah. Good to meet you." He grins wider, a dangerous glint coming into his eyes. "You here to put those dogs to heel, too?"
Kaiyohos sits on a log near the fire. His gaze fixated on the warm glow of the fire. He is wearing his tribes armor, a large and heavy suit of hide. The hide is not very deccorated, except for a large emblem of a Wolf located on the back. The wolf markings are black against the dark brown of the rest of the armor.
Kaiyohos' skin is like that of an apple, a bright green color, except a bit more wrinkled. His skin shows his age, as does his hair. His hair is a light grey, almost white, and is incredibly long. He doesn't have earrings or bracelets, and he doesn't have a whole lot of metal on him in general.
Even though he doesn't have a lot of metal on him, he does have a spear. The spear head has runes and engravings marked into the head itself.
"Strongspear is my name, but you may call me Kaiyohos."
Kaiyohos grins at the mention of dogs, then points to the back of his armor.
On the opposite side of the campfire sits an greenskin nearly 6 and a half foot high. He is wearing an leggins and loincloth. Besides them he is only wearing an bearskin whose skull sits on his head over his shoulders. The bare skin of his upper body is scarred, telling of several fights with wild animals.
He has no obvious weapons besides a dagger at his belt.
Gromsch Longclaw I'm called and yes, I'm here to avenge my former chieftain. These traitors will regret having killed an negotiator.
"Greetings, warrriors. Your names and furs bespeak your greatness; if only my title were quite the same." He sighs with another grin. "Still. It'll be good to have warriors like us in the fight against those invaders, eh? Wonder where Chieftain Thunderstick is..." He murmurs, glancing around.
Tekumsah can't make out the chieftain's tent amongst the multitude around him, he does however see the last of the four men around the fire come hobbling out of his tent on a lame foot.
A small almost fragile like greenskin hobbles out of the tent towards the fire. A small sneerish smile plays across the face of this creature and at first you are not sure whether he is truly a greenskin or some throwback of a goblin. Green eyes flame from beneath a heavy brow with an intensity that can only be described as a raging inferno. His simple adornment is none the less striking; a dark colored robe, that tends to shift from black to green as your eyes roam it, is only accentuated more by the fierce piercing tongues of flame leaping up the arms it some kind of chaotic pattern. The flame on the robes does nothing but draw attention to the reddish hair that lies mangled up on the head of this greenskin.
His presence, though a mere 5 ft,emanates control and strength of not just will but of personality. He walks unhurriedly to the fire using a large bladed staff to assist. He is unabashed at his limp and grins as he sits.The fire flickers slightly when he approaches almost as if calling out a greeting to this man. Looking around: So my brothers you have now been greeted by my kinfolk,fire and flame-- and blessed by his bounty of warmth and food. I greet you as he did: in friendship and brotherhood. I see the fires of anger have smoldered in each of our souls until we were led here, a group of sparks, to ignite the injustices of those who take what is and will always be ours. With a small hand gesture from the speaker, the flames leap higher and the smoke swirls around his head.
Let their mistakes, their pride, and their wanton desire for that which does not belong to them-- that which we have safe guarded and protected as family of Mother Earth-- fuel the embers of our resentment until they burst into an all consuming inferno that rushes to end this abomination with the fires of cleansing and remembrance....I Tamimay do open my soul to the fires of judgement in each of you with the hope to call you friend, kinsman, and initiate of the fire.
"... You're a talker, aren't you?"
"Heh, nice speech." Tekumsah laughs at Kaiyohos' own comment. "I do have to agree with you, though, Strongspear. The time for speeches and pretty words is over. Action," Tekumsah says, shaking is fist before him, "is what we need now."
Tekumsah leans back, holding out his left hand. "We need swift, decisive action..." With a flick of his wrist, what looked to be a decoration on the bracer he wears rotates and shoots forward, extending into a blade.
Tekumsah grins at you with a mischievous gleam in his eyes. "We must take the fight to those white devils. That's what I hope Wammsutta called us for."
"Amund, I like how you think."
Kaiyohos leans on one knee as he looks into the fire. One slight glance to each person tells him that he will find the fight he has been looking for.
I sit quietly in the shadows of the fires. I do not sit with in the main light aura area.
"Please, call me Tekumsah. Amund is a name I haven't used in... years." Tekumsah shrugs, almost apologetically. "I'm first-generation. My father was an Ulfen sailor; he gave me that name. But here, among these, my people, I am Tekumsah."
As you are all chatting you see people beginning to walk past your camp, heading for the center of the clearing. It's only a few at first, but gradually more are making their way in that direction.
"Hmm," Tekumsah hums as he sees the people walking. "Seems there's some sort of gathering taking place. Perhaps we'd best make our way there as well?"
Yet Tekumsah makes no move to stand. Instead, he picks up a long stick and prods the fire, shifting the logs so the warm embers can heat him more easily. He looks up at the others, watching their faces and expressions.
"Of course," he murmurs, "a strong chief should have a strong voice. I'm sure I'll here him from this spot."
"This old man traveled across the mountains to see that man speak." Kaiyohos says while he stands up, grunting from sitting down for too long.
Kaiyohos starts to head on with the rest of the crowd slowly.
I'll acompany you. The new chief deserves our respect. He has to handle the lost of his brother and to carry the burden of responsibility for our tribes. We should strenghten his shoulders with our respect. Since only a self-confident chief can make strong and farsighred decissions.
I simply watch the others taking in each response and registering it against what I know or have heard of each of these guys.
I do get up with the group though and slowly hobble toward the sound of the speaker.
Following the crowd you eventually come the center of the clearing. There is a large rock jutting from the ground there, that when stood upon raises one up high enough for all to see them. It's one of the things that has made this clearing a good meeting place for generations. A tall greenskin wearing only a breechcloth and doeskin leggings climbs up to the top of the rock. In his hands is a long rifle, which he points up into the sky and fires. As the rifle crack reverberates throughout the clearing, his long straight black hair blows gently in the wind, two eagle feathers woven into a top knot. His face is painted bright red, in the traditional Kinkanoa style.
Once the crowd has quieted down the man begins to speak, "Brothers, I am Wammsutta Thunderstick. I have called you here to form a warband to strike against the Elesomari. For our entire lives they have tricked, forced and intimidated us out of the land where our ancestors are buried. No longer are our forests ours to hunt, our rivers and bays poisoned by their lumber camps. Now, my very own brother gone to them in peace is fallen dead. You all know well the reasons we are here." He says pausing as shouts of angry agreement rise up all around the camp. He motions downwards with his hands until the crowd quiets down. "Please, brothers, for now we must be patient. Soon I will call on each of you and ask you to fight for our people. Until that time go, and celebrate before the coming storm." He finishes, stepping down from the stone.
"... I think I want a drink."
Kaiyohos walks back to his tent, and grabs a waterskin full of tea. He then goes back to the log he was seated on.
"That man can tell a speech."
Tekumsah is surprisingly quiet, for all the words he said earlier. He isn't among the greenskins shouting and cheering for Wammsutta's words. Instead, he stares into the fire, an emotionless look on his face.
After the chieftain finishes his speech, Tekumsah raises his bow once, knuckles his forehead in a salute, and then removes his rabbit and begins to pick it apart, eating its flesh in small pieces.
He is the flame!!! I mutter as the feeling of peace warms the unease in my soul. I sit still absorbing the feeling of fury that rolls through the crowd after the speech.
"Aye, you can't hold that against him, no matter what else," Tekumsah says, pausing from his meal. "Now let's see if his arm's as strong as his tongue."
Then the young warrior looks over at Tamimay, who's still standing as the crowd disperses. "Looks like our fiery friend has been a little dampened down by the chieftain." Tekumsah grins. "They both seem to like the sounds of their own voices."
Then he rips a leg off the rabbit and holds it out to the older greenskin seated across from him. "Care for some meat? Caught it fresh about an hour ago."
As the men from the gathering disperse, the smells of cooking meat and the sound of drums and pipes begins to fill the air. Shortly the clearing has taken on a festive atmosphere, with people eating, laughing and dancing around the various fires. A few spellcasters even put on illusory shows of greenskin warriors cutting down colonists, and flashing dancing lights. In short, it's party time.
Tekumsah, there is no time to eat. I saw something unsettling. I believe we have an scout of the colonists here. Would you follow me.
Gromsch saunters through the crowd, following the man he saw,
Kaiyohos looks over at the man dressed like his people.
Can't a man drinnk in peace anymore? Kaiyohos thinks as he sets down his waterskin back into his tent as he slowly follows Gromsch.
Gromsch tries to follow the man but the crush of people is too great in the crowd, after the speech ends and everyone begins to leave Gromsch looks around but doesn't see the man any more.
Kaiyohos bumps into Gromsch and says "Did you loose him?"
Seems to be so. Then it seems, that we have no other option as to go to our fire and join the festivities
"I see him as well, Gromsch," Tekumsah whispers, setting down his rabbit. He stands to follow Kaiyohos and Gromsch, but the man disappears into the crowd.
"Damn," Tekumsah mutters, sitting back down. "Ah well. Not everyone who looks human is, as I well know."
Tekumsah finishes his rabbit, then joins some of the festivities. He engages in some dancing, performing traditional movements from his tribe, a sore sight for any greenskins who knew the people before they were eradicated. The young warrior may also find himself a pretty young greenskin girl to chat with, and while he doesn't make any big deal out of himself, he does have a reputation.
In short, Tekumsah engages in some of the revelry, though he does not lose himself, and anyone watching him notices that the young La'Awethikah only has a single drink or two the entire time... And that his posture always seems ready to react to danger
[ooc]Kaiyohos does too, after everymeal he picks his teeth clean with a dagger. Mainly his rusty hunting dagger. :) J/K[/ooc[
There are plenty of girls there who are willing to dance with Tekumsah. The day wears on, various bouts of wrestling and tale telling breaking out around the different fires. Towards evening more and more people begin to dance as the sun goes down. The celebration of life continues on until well after dark. It isn't until past midnight that most people have made their way back to their own tents to sleep.
Gromsch joins the feasting a has a good time.
When the feasting ebbs away, Gromsch retires to his tent.
I sit and observe what is going on around me but do not join in the festivities other than to eat and drink non alcoholic drinks.
Kaiyohos does little partying, and doesn't drink a whole lot. He quickly goes to bed, near his Riding Wolf.
Tekumsah stays sober as well throughout the gathering. As evening comes 'round, the warrior breaks off from the dancing and goes to a campfire, preferably one around which are seated younger warriors and women, or children, if there are any. He begins to speak in a low, soft voice, sharing stories of both his tribe and the mysterious lands beyond the forest-- lands that many greenskins have never seen; lands that Tekumsah has dwelt in for years. He regales the youth with delightful tales of triumphs over the horrid settlers, of trophies and battles won, of tricks played, all in a comical and lighthearted manner.
To warriors, though, he shares tales of bloody conquest and gritty fights, of arrows and bullets fired in the streets and wilds, of the crimson blood and silver blade, of axe and sword and spear and glinting rifle. He even shares some stories of his allies there, telling any who might listen, "Not all the white man of the east are awful, not all seek our destruction. Some even rise up against there own kin, throwing off the shackles of painful tradition and fighting alongside us-- if we would let them."
While the number of women at the war counsel is relatively small, everyone enjoys Tekumsah's tales of foreign lands and battle. A few are willing to listen to his wisdom about not judging all men based on their color, but most scoff at the notion.
The morning comes swiftly, and with it a summons. An adolescent boy is sent to your campsite to bring you to see Great Chieftain Thunderstick. He leads you through the clearing past tents full of yawning warriors struggling to their feet, many with hangovers. The smells of morning cookfires and wet dewy earth fill your nostrils as the rapidly rising sun burns away the post dawn mists. Chieftain Thunderstick is staying in a large hide tent which has been beautifully decorated and beaded with depictions of hunting greenskins, forest animals and spirits. Inside he sits with two of his councilors, crosslegged on the ground. "Welcome brothers. Please, sit." he says as you enter. The red paint of war is gone from his face this morning. You can see him more clearly now, a young man, no older than thirty winters. His face is plain and rough from exposure to sun and wind. Up close you can see the scars of battle on his body, a few bullet wounds and numerous from cutting weapons. "Will you share this pipe with us, that we may be of one breath?" He asks once everyone is seated, holding up a long wood and ivory pipe, in the rough shape of a tommahawk. The walrus ivory bowl is carved in the shape of a riding wolf's head, the deep bowl in its mouth is packed with an aromatic herbal blend. A common ceremony amongst your people, the herb is calming and brings clarity of thought.
It will be an honoor for me to share this pipe with you and these warriors, my chieftain.
"An honor, it would be. I must agree with my companion."
"Myself as well, Great Chieftain," Tekumsah says. He knuckles his forehead, sitting down easily, but he doesn't seem particularly subservient or ready to completely bow down to the Great Chieftain. After all, he's essentially the Chieftain of his own tribe-- even if that tribe numbers less than half a dozen strong.
Wammsutta pulls a lit fuse from a small clay urn next to him and lights the pipe, taking a long drag before passing it around to the next person in the circle. "These are Running Deer and Jack Eagle-eye, my advisers." He says indicating the men seated next to him. Running Deer is small and thin, sporting a long limp mustache. Jack Eagle-eye only has one eye, his other covered by a patch. He has a custom looking rifle slung on his back. Both men nod in greeting, though they remain silent. "I have another, John Sassamon, but I have not seen him since my speech."
He waits for the pipe to have completed the circle before saying, "Your reputations precede you. You are all extremely capable men. Therefore I have a special task of you. I suspect Sassamon may have gone to tell the colonists what I am planning. He is only half greenskin and he spent much time amongst the Elesomari. His understanding of their culture made him a great mediator in peace time, but if he has gone to betray me, I must know. Therefore I ask you to find him, and report back to me what has happened. What say you?"
"I also am half green and half white," Tekumsah says. He looks at the others gathered in the tent. "Yet I fight against the whiteskins as fiercely as any warriors I have known."
Tekumsah looks down at his skin and hands, flexing them into fists and then relaxing them. After a long pause, he looks back up, determination and danger in his blue-green eyes. In little more than a whisper, he says, "I will find this Sassamon, and if he has betrayed his people, he will wish that I'd never heard of him."
I will remain standing. It does take me awhile to retake my feet and like a wild fire i prefer to be ready and able to move with each gust of fate.
As with Tekumsah, I will seek this man. If he is pure his spirit will burn in answer to our call or be consumed in the heat of our wrath.
Give us a description and a possible destination of Sassamon and we will be swift in our path to return him to you."
I will gratify your desire for this hunt. When Sassamon was standing right next to the rock at the gathering and left when you talked about the coming war, then I know his face.
"And if he is, in fact, a traitor? What should we do? Kill him?"
Kaiyohos sits still, watching the great chieftan.
"Only kill him if it is necessary to defend your lives. Otherwise simply discover his fate and report back to me."
"Death is quick, and often a respite," Tekumsah says, standing. "I said he would wish to pass my notice. There are much better ways of making men talk and fear than killing them."
We will try to get him alive if he trys to betray us.
"Good. Do you have any further questions for me?" the chieftain asks.
"Only where do we go."