Calo nods and says to Herja, "I think Awenasa is right, we should expect roadblocks. We've seen that before but this might be more substantial. Might even be something that looks natural but isn't. Good catch, Awenasa."
Herja rubs his chin, "The last town didn't give us much information, just that the local bandits had a new leader and were more active then usual. Bandits tend to leave the locals alone and mostly prey on travelers for obvious reasons. They need the locals for food and support but picking on us won't upset anyone. Especially us. A few of the longer term bandits make deals with us, but a new face might be trying to make a name."
The horse trader rubs his chin and adds, "And there is always a chance they just hate Wanderers. That is hardly unheard of." Calo nods, a bit sadly.
Then he glances at Awenasa, "Then the question is, do want the front or rear? " he pauses and then adds, "We will try to talk ourselves out of trouble, if possible right Herja?"
The other man agrees saying, "That's what I'm told, but I am expecting trouble this time. I'm glad we brought a mighty Shoanti warrior." he smiles slightly, but still looks concerned.
Awenasa is relieved that Calo had stayed with the clan. She did not like her odds alone against a group of bandits. She was almost certain that they would not fight with any kind of honour. The clan would need all the fighters they could to make sure nothing and no one is lost.
If there is a chance that the bandits hated Wanderers, the Shoanti could only imagine what they may think of her. "What do you know about their weapons? I would think they like bows and arrows but we have to prepare for anything."
The zoralo gives Calo's question much thought. "Trouble at the front is certain, I think, so I should be at the front. But someone needs to be at the back just in case."
Then uncertainty mixed with anxiety flashes across her face, "But I do not have to talk to avoid trouble, right? If I talk, we most certainly have trouble."
Awenasa realizes that she isn't very knowledgable about how the clan normally protected themselves and each other. "Does the Phuro have her own guard? What about children? If we expect trouble then no one should be by self or wandering around."
Calo rubs his chin but it is Herja that answers her weapon question, "Probably nothing special. A few bows, like you said. Spears, maybe some wood axes, perhaps a rusty sword or two? They are bandits, not soldiers. My father and grandfather always said that during wars, it was worse since bandits usually stole weapons when they deserted but it has been a long time since war here. So probably just hand me downs and odds and ends."
Calo nods, "Then I'll take the back and you can take the front." Then he grins, 'If you have to talk Awenasa, you can say whatever you like, because we will also be smashing their teeth in."
Herja laughs slightly at Awenasa last concern. "We are not quite babes in the woods, Awenasa. This is not our first brush with trouble. We are the Wanderers and the roads are often dangerous. We will keep the children on the wagons today." he rubs his chin in thought however, "We have a store of spears and such. I'll hand them out to the stouter lads and lasses. They might not know much, but it will at least give them something sharp to poke bandits with. And Moranna is a keen shot with a bow, I'll tell her to get it out."
"As for the Phuro, don't worry about her. If it comes to that, she can defend herself." Herja adds and then goes on, "We'll take it slow today, keep the wagons tighter. Double hitch the oxen and we'll eat lunch on the move."
The horse trader goes off to make arrangements but Calo hangs back a moment. When they are alone he offer an arm to her, in a warrior's grip, "Today, we may fight. Maybe it can help heal the cracks in the road between us. Maybe I can earn your trust. Stay safe, Awenasa and protect our people."
Around them the caravan grinds to life, clattering slowly uphill toward the stony hills. Awenasa takes her place at the front, which is new for her. Usually she is in the middle of the gathering, walking with Thak or perhaps at the rear chatting with Herja. Not today. Today she is all eyes and ears, watching the landscape for the slightest movement, for the tiniest giveaway of danger-
'Hey!" A voice says right at her side, making her jump. She whirls but only spots Perey, who suddenly looks embarrassed. 'I, um...heard something about bandits?" Awenasa notes Perey has not been handed a spear or stave. Clearly Herja does not consider him one of the 'stout lads'. Was he here because his new friends had all been armed and he had, again, been passed over?
Relief shows on Awenasa's face. Relief at hearing the bandits aren't trained warriors and at hearing that her clan already have a plan in place.
She responds with a small smile as Calo grins at her. "I like my fists to talk, not my mouth. It is good to have the front and the back protected well."
When Calo offers his arm to Awenasa, she readily grabs hold of it. "I agree. Threats to the clan is why both of us are needed. We protect the front and the rear. I glad you stayed. Be safe as you protect our people."
The zoralo takes her place at the front, immediately on guard. Her face is serious and grim as she focuses on every sight and sound she perceives. She is barely able to stop her reflexes as Perey startles her with what sounds like a shout as she strains her ears to hear any possible threat.
"Spirits above!" she exclaims in Shoanti. "You should know better!" she scolds. "I almost did something that you would regret." Then she turns back to watching their surroundings, "The others said to expect bandits so everyone is to be on guard. I could use another set of eyes and ears if you're up for it." Even though Herja may not have given Perey a weapon, Awenasa knows that he has other strengths to protect their new family.
Awenasa feels better having Calo watching the back of the caravan. Whatever else, she has a feeling the wrestler would rather die then fail in his duties again. Indeed, he is more likely to overdo it and fail to retreat then anything else. Maybe she should mention this to someone.
Perey nods, although he looks nervous and embarrassed he startled Awenasa. Instead of answering the young man merely nods and starts scanning the landscape around them in silence. He is clearly nervous however and would like to speak, to drive away his fear, but he doesn't (barely).
Awenasa casts a glance over the rest of the caravan and notes how different it is. Usually the Wanderers travel in an easy loose columns, with wagons widely spaced out and people walking freely in between. Children are often climbing here and there, or darting between wagons with adults keeping, at best, a lazy eye on them. People often wander into the lands near the roads to gather wood, water or simply to enjoy a scenic spot (or gain a private moment). Not today. Today the caravan travels in close order, the wagons almost running into each other, the oxen driven far more carefully then usual. Children are kept on the wagons, often keeping watch over the areas around the caravan. Many are armed today with a wild collection of spears, axes and clubs. Awenasa spots Moranna sitting at the front of a wagon, a bow in her lap.
The landscape grows stonier as the road climbs upward. While the others might miss the green lands below, to Awenasa this change is a relief. Hard rock and clear skies are what she knows. Maybe she is out of her element in a wood, a city or a lake but a field of broken rock and narrow valleys? Awenasa Windkeeper knows this land, she can feel it in her feet. No one will surprise her here.
It is like going back in time, to a simpler part of her life. Watching ridgelines for silhouettes, listening for rockfalls and keeping her eye for soaring birds. Anything that might reveal others in the seemingly desolate landscape. To a lowlander this land may look empty and bare, but to Awenasa it a complex patchwork, a game of cat and mouse. She falls so deep into her training she almost finds herself looking for her sister.
Yet it is Perey that finds the track. At one point the caravan is struggling to make yet another steep grade and Awenasa is nervously watching, knowing this is a good place for am ambush. Perey on the other hand is looking at the ground and suddenly whispers to Awenasa. "What is that?!"
Awenasa hurries over and glances down at a dusty patch of gravel near the road, washed out by the infrequent rains.
It is a bear print, clear as day. A massive one, easily the biggest she has ever seen. This bear would be over eight feet tall, if she was reading the sign right. Worse, it was the wrong place for a bear track. Bears probably lived in these mountains but far up the slopes. Even from here she could see the ragged patches of green on the cliffs high above. That was where large animals lived, not down in these rocky hills. There was no food, no water. Besides the size of this track made her uneasy. Did lowlander bears get this large?
The quiet, solemn procession of the wagons left Awenasa a lot of time to think as she instinctively watched her surroundings. She made a mental note of mentioning her assessment of Calo to Herja hoping that he would be able to get through to the brawler in a way that Awenasa could not.
The change in scenery is both a blessing and a curse to the Shoanti. Familiarity of the landscape is definitely a blessing and she finds herself with a greater sense of calm even with the threat of bandits looming. The curse comes when she catches herself beginning to look for her sister among the rocks. She shakes her head and steels herself against the pang of loss that stabs at her heart. The pain reminds her to do whatever it takes to prevent more loss.
Perey's whisper puts her immediately on guard and she rushes to investigate. Her stomach twists with dread and for a moment she doubts what she sees. A bear? But everything about the paw print was wrong.
Her mind floods with thoughts of possibilities. Was the print real? Was it possible one of the bandits had a bear as a pet? Should she even be concerned? Usually bears avoided people unless surprised. Was the caravan making enough noise to scare the bear away? Could a bear this size even be scared away?
Awenasa is all business as she responds to Perey's question, not even realizing she slips into speaking Shoanti, "Looks like a bear. Go find Herja and bring him here. I don't want to stop the wagons but I need his council on whether he's seen this before because it seems odd to me."
Perey swallowed and looked down at the print. He might not have been a full blooded man by her quah's laws, but he still had grown up around Shoanti. He knew a track when he saw one.
"Isn't it...too big? I thought maybe it was the gravel..." His voice trails off hopefully but a single glance at Awenasa's face dispels his delusion. It was quite clear that somewhere, far too close by, is a very large ursine. Perey shuddered and with good reasons. Bears seldom troubled people but they were big, strong and sometimes irritable. The Shoanti did not hunt them.
Perey hurries off to get Herja, leaving Awenasa alone with her thoughts. She gazes around but sees no other tracks or signs. Ahead the road curves over the crest of a small hill and then dips out of sight. She guesses it sinks into a canyon ahead which looked quite steep, especially for wagons and oxen. She didn't know anything about drove animals, but she was worried about that drop.
Awenasa had ranged far ahead to scout but by the time Perey and Herja arrive, the first of the heavy wagons is lumbering past. The wheels grind loudly on the stony gravel path but it sounds good to Awenasa's ears. Surely any animal would be scared off by such a ruckus? You did not sneak up on someone in a laden wagon she was coming to learn.
Herja says, "Perey said something about an animal print?" He looks vaguely annoyed, a feeling that seems to increase when Awenasa explains.
"So what? It's an animal Awenasa. Bears run away from people, everyone knows that. We have a full caravan here. I'm worried about bandits, and maybe monsters. Why are you concerned about this track?" he glances at the print and shrugs, "Doesn't seem that big to me."
Clearly animal tracking was not a Wanderer specialty.
Awenasa waits somewhat anxiously for Perey to return with Herja. The unknown of what to expect and the constant threat of attack keeps the Shoanti on edge. The possibility of a bear, and a large bear at that, makes her hope that she is worried for nothing. Bears were to be left alone and even revered, not fought.
Herja's response and his obvious annoyance at her concerns, fills the zoralo with self-doubt. Had she misjudged the size of the track and over-reacted? Was it normal for bears to be along this trail? Her misgivings almost keep her silent but with Herja's questions she finally decides to speak.
She motions at the track, "That doesn't look big to you? Are bears that much bigger here than around the Plateau? She frowns, "And it shouldn't be here." Awenasa points further up the slopes, "That is where bears should be." She sighs, "I'm concerned because it feels wrong. If this bear is acting not normal then it could be a threat. Yes, normal bears run from people but who knows what a not normal bear does."
Herja glanced down at the print and said, "I'm not an expert on wild animals, Awenasa. if you say it belongs to a big bar, then I believe you." But she could tell that the man did not really believe her, or understand her concern. "But still, it is just a bear. I don't think any bear, no matter how stupid or large, is going to fight a a caravan of several dozen people." Seeing her dark face the horse trader holds up a hand, "I'll tell everyone to keep their eyes open for any bears."
He quickly walks back to the caravan, which is by now, starting to slowly roll past them. Perey says, "I mean, he isn't wrong. One bear isn't going to stick around through all this noise."
But she can't linger around this paw print any longer. The caravan is already passing her by, blinding wandering into new terrain. That was exactly what Awenasa needed to avoid. She quickly headed back toward the front of the wagon trail, cresting the hill ahead. What she saw past it bothered her.
She carefully skirted the ridgeline directly, to avoid making her outline visible against the sky behind her. Granted, soon the massive wagons would be trundling this way and be impossible to hide, by old habits died hard. Awenasa Windkeeper of the Tamiir-Quah was still her father's daughter and would never explore a new valley without caution.
The road went steeply down into the valley, gravel somewhat washed out and in need of repair. What surprised Awenasa was that it didn't go all the way down into the narrow slot below but arched over to the side via a stone bridge. The bridge looked old and worn, weathered by a thousands sunsets but stable enough. there were ruins of a few old buildings at both ends of the bridge, but they were long abandoned. The entire area was filled with scrubby trees and brush. It was not much but a cunning warrior could hide there, along with perhaps half a dozen others or more.
The entire spot reeked of ambush although perhaps on a small scale then one to attack an entire caravan. Six men wouldn't be enough, unless they were far mightier then most bandits.
Awenasa continues to doubt herself as the others obviously don't share her concerns. As the caravan begins to creak slowly past her, she decides that she has to hope that the bear track she saw isn't a sign of something more sinister at work and refocuses on potentially new threats as they make progress along the trail.
The Shoanti falls back into familiar patterns of stealth and wariness as the road begins to descend into a valley. The stone bridge is unexpected and her quick assessment of possible threats makes her certain that she does like its potential for ambush. She has to physically stop the mental list of all the possibilities for attack so as to now overwhelm herself into inaction. Instead, she makes herself focus on what she can physically see, hear, and smell.
Awenasa calms herself and studies the ground carefully, reaching out with her rather highly tuned senses. At the very least it is terrain she is familiar and comfortable with. In a forest or on a lake her instincts might have been worse then useless but here, she knew what she was doing.
The air is cool but wetted slightly by the stream far below at the base of the canyon. It is damp on her lips, at least compared to the dry plains behind them, over the hill. The plants here are growing well, with low trees and brush, getting higher as one descended toward the bridge. Far below the road and bridge it was a thick belt of green along the water. Awenasa could spot one or two game trails leading to the tempting water.
The old ruins were little more then crumbling piles of stone, worn by wind and rain through many years. Not habitable, even by bandits but they do cast shadows and would provide a small hiding space for perhaps two or three men, if they were careful.
The bridge itself is clear of debris or growth, a simple stone road plenty wide for a wagon. Stone arches make up the base, cast in murky shadow below the span. A waist high rail makes it safer, unlikely to simply walk off the edge of it. Despite being aged, it looks quite sturdy. Still, it will slow the caravan down, having to thread it single file and the oxen and horses might not like the narrow space.
The path leading out of the canyon on the other side is step as this one, perhaps in somewhat worse repair. The gravel is washed away in worn ruts, creating pockets and holes through the road. It will be very slow going if and when they reach it.
If anything it all seems a bit too wild. The plants growing a bit too well, the ground cover a bit too bright. The soil was still poor gravel and yet there was vibrant life here. Yes, this was a sheltered canyon but it was nothing like the Shadow Stream and yet...there was a very faint scent of...mold. Of a forest floor.
Odd.
Awenasa had assumed that the road they were traveling was traveled by many. However, as she takes in the ruins, the bridge, and the road on the other side she is suddenly not so sure.
For the second time in a very short while, her surroundings give her pause. First, a bear track where it shouldn't be and bigger than it should be. Now there are plants thriving where they shouldn't. Awenasa doesn't like it. Was there someone specific causing all of this? Could the new bandit leader have some sort of connection to nature like some sort of want-to-be druid? All the unknowns perplexed the Shoanti but she wasn't about to voice her concerns after what had happened with the bear print. She would just have to be more vigilant.
Awenasa decides to move further down the road and closer to the ruins, her senses on high alert for danger. Her gaze moved systematically from the ground, looking for tracks, to the ruins, looking for ambush, to the surrounding area looking for animals.
Awenasa moves down the slope, as the wagons as slowly cresting the hill behind her. Perey follows behind, silent for once as it is clear Awenasa is on a knife's edge of anxiety and concern. This wasn't a good place to be ambushed and all her instincts were warning her of danger. But what could they do? She couldn't exactly ask the Wanderers to take a different road (if such a thing was even possible) because she felt uncomfortable. Still, if there was trouble, she would at least be prepared.
Her trip downhill is uneventful, sticking to the road but having her eyes peeled on the slowly increasing foliage. Each bush, every stunted tree, patch of grass is inspected. If nature was suspect, then it would be watched. Carefully.
They are about halfway down when there is a flash of movement and Perey gasps. Awenasa wheels, muscles tensing, ready to jump, fight or warn the others all at once to see....a fleeing rabbit. The little animal darts from a patch of grass and vanishes down a hidden burrow.
Perey gives a shaky laugh and they descend. They reach the near end of the stone bridge, but no do step on it. There are no ruins on this side of the canyon, just scrubby bushes and trees. Awenasa carefully investigates any and all hiding places and finds no ambushers or trace of them. No footprints or left behind items. No broken sandals, torn shirts or old bottles. And yet, that rich rank scent is still present. Faint but stronger here then at the top of the hill.
Behind her the wagons start to creak down the steep slope, carefully managed to avoid runaways carts.
"So...nothing?" Perey says, peering across the bridge. "Maybe they are on the other side? Or maybe we are too many for the bandits to bother? Where is the best place to ambush us, do you think?"
Awenasa was not used to being on this side of things. She was used to being the one waiting for the perfect moment to strike from the shadows and not the one waiting for the threat to appear. She finds it almost unbearable experiencing an invisible, looming threat that she cannot pinpoint.
The tension builds as she moves towards the bridge. Her senses are strained and yet she finds no threat, her muscles taut in anticipation of trouble.
The sudden appearance of the rabbit does nothing to break the tension but rather magnifies how vulnerable their position is. Her further investigation that reveals no sign of potential ambush only makes her more suspicious but decides that it is better to be overly cautious rather than surprised.
Perey's question causes the Shoanti to frown, "I would wait until the caravan is on the bridge and then attack from both sides. We will be most vulnerable while on the bridge."
Awenasa gives her head a small shake, "Everything about this tells me to expect trouble. I feel it in my bones that something is wrong but everything appears fine."
She remains vigilant at the bridge while she waits for the wagons to approach.
Time passed and the wagons seems to crawl down the slope at glacial speed. As her nerves grew, Awenasa could detect the signs of being at high tension for too long. It was when vigilance transformed into anxiety and when alertness changed to nervousness. She had seen it happen to other warriors and, as she slowly watched the wagons rolls downhill toward the bridge, she could feel it happen to her.
A foot that wouldn't stop tapping, eyes that roving the landscape too fast to really see danger, a mind that kept racing with images of disaster. It was really all too much.
She hears Perey rustling at her side, perhaps nervous himself. The sound irritates her for a moment. Couldn't he just be still? Them, the young man pulls out a wooden flute and raises it to his lips. It is an old flute, one she does not recognize but clearly of Wanderer design, apparently carved out of a single piece of wood. The surface is covered with intricate carvings of many stairs, looping in an endless, hypnotic fashion. Eyes closed, Perey starts to play a soft low melody that mixes with the sighing wind of the bridge nearby.
It is an old Shoanti story-telling song, the type of music played in the background to keep tempo and time during the sagas. While originally used merely to help a storyteller on cadence, they have long become an integral part of the stories themselves, with each performer adjusting it, making it their own. Perey also, somehow, wove in the exotic music of the Wanderers, their roving reels and bold sounds. It was like riding in a wagon under the stars, with no fear of dark or night.
It soothed her mind and sharpened her attention.
Perey pauses and says, a bit guilty, "I mean, it isn't as if we are sneaking." he says in Shoanti, gesturing at the creaking, groaning wagon rolling toward them.
Herja is walking next to it, easing the oxen down the steep slope with gentle words and soothing rubs. The wagons are difficult to maneuver downhill but the oxen are experience and the drivers cautious. It rolls up to them without incident, on the tiny flat road before the arching bridge.
"See anything?" Herja says, voice oddly hushed, "Shall we go across?"
Awenasa's physical and emotional irritation slowly melts away as Perey's music acts like a soothing balm. It refocuses her thoughts and she smiles at Perey gratefully. "No, you did the right thing. You're more intuitive than you give yourself credit for."
With Herja's annoyance with her previous concerns still fresh in her mind, Awenasa is hesitant about sharing her additional thoughts about this area being odd. She still has a sense of foreboding but she hadn't seen or heard anything that others would accept as proof of danger. She still doesn't know if the danger is certain but what she does know is that she can't stop the caravan based on a feeling.
"I see that this area is odd but I haven't seen any signs of ambush. I don't think we have any choice but to cross but everyone should remain vigilant."
Awenasa studies the bridge for a moment, still not completely at ease but also much better thanks for Perey's music. "I'll go first but don't follow me too closely. In case there is a trap, better it catch me first than one of the wagons. Leave about fifteen feet before following."
With her instructions in place, Awenasa steps onto the bridge and begins her journey across. She continues to be vigilant as she moves, doing her best to sense if anything is amiss.
Herja nods, "Maybe there is no one out here and we are just jumping at shadows. Or perhaps the bandits are intimidated by our numbers. Not all ambushes are carried out, after all." The horse trader surveys the empty hills around them and shrugs adding, "I'll follow you."
Awenasa steps on the bridge, Perey hanging back with Herja's wagon. Unconsciously she holds her breath when her boots trod the weathered, worn stones. Any moment now arrows would rain in, lighting flash from the sky, balls of fire erupt, trolls boil from underneath. The bridge seemed such an obvious place......
Nothing happened. Her weight settled and she was standing on the bridge, which was rock solid under her. She went ahead of the wagon keenly looking for any traps or signs of dangers on the stone bridge. She finds nothing, which only ratchets the tension. Far below the distant river flows, only a barely audible rush at this height. Behind her Herja snaps the leads and the wagon crawls into motion. For a short time both of them are on the bridge and then Awenasa reaches the far side alone.
And nothing happens. She can feel the rocky ground under her feet, and she peers at the overgrown ruins around her, but sees no hidden ambushers. The plant growth is even thicker here however, with the trees taller then she is. A few even have fruit dangling from branches, green apples ripening in the bright sun. Patches of grass break up the landscape of gravel and rocks here, bright green among gray.
And still nothing happens. Herja's wagons trundles behind, creaking wheels growing louder in the still air. Awenasa can hear the oxen snorting with effort as they drag the wagon forward, each step of their hooved feet and event he jangle of Herja's reigns. In short order he has pulled up alongside of her, pausing the rolling.
"Nothing?"
Nothing.
Behind, another wagon gets on the bridge and starts rolling across. Awenasa is nearly beside her with doubt and concern. Had she been wrong? Was her training pointing her in the wrong direction?
Ahead of her the road climbed up sharply again, rising into the hills out of the canyon. The ridgeline was dark against the bright sky.
Awenasa focuses on her breathing as she moves to keep her mind from fixating on the list of 'what ifs' that it was intent on making. The music that Perey had played for her had made her realize how close she was to being ineffective in protecting the clan.
As she gets to the other side and still nothing happens, doubts begin to creep into her thoughts again. She does her best to push them aside as Herja joins her. Reluctantly she says, "Nothing."
She points to the fruit in the trees, "But...is that normal? You've traveled this way before, right? Have you seen apples growing here before? It seems unnatural to me. And unnatural suggests a potential threat."
Awenasa watches the wagons making their way across the bridge and quickly realizes that the caravan would have to continue moving because there wasn't enough room on this side for the wagons to wait. Trusting in Calo to protect the rear, she begins to scout ahead to make sure the road is safe.
Awenasa doesn't know much about this region. It is far from her home, despite the superficial similarities. Still, plants and plants, and the time and place are not right for fruiting trees. The should be too dry, the season too early. She is at a lower elevation from home, but not that much, surely?
Herja glances at the fruit, and shrugs, "Maybe. Maybe the bandits tend them? What difference does it make? So far, they have not bothered us. Let's just keep going."
He moves his wagon up, to create space for others. The horse trader, despite his words, seems nervous though and doesn't go far ahead. Awenasa leaves them behind and starts climbing the hill on her own, keeping low and moving quickly. Still, she feels rather obvious since the hill is steep, and anyone above would get a good look at her.
Halfway up she glance back and can clearly see the caravan below. Three wagons are on her side of the canyon, mostly stopped to wait for others. Another three are on the bridge, rolling across, while the rest wait on the far side. The view is so good, it makes Awenasa nervous that anyone further up the ridge has an even better one. This is ideal area for a....
She has been tense so long, it is almost with relief when she hears a sound ahead of her.
Awenasa looks up the hill and sees a human figure move from behind a rock. Either not noticing or ignoring Awenasa the figure raises a hand high and shouts some word of magic. A single moment passes and then Awenasa hears shouts from behind. Risking a glance back the Shoanti spots, with alarm, a billowing cloud of smoke or fog rising from the middle of the bridge. Like a growing mushroom it swells quickly, enveloping the three wagons on the bridge even as Awenasa watches. There are shouts of alarm, the bellowing of oxen and the creaking of wheels as everything is thrown in confusion.
Rustling ahead drags her attention back from the chaotic scene below. Other figures are emerging from the ridgeline now. A dozen or so others emerge from behind rocks and brush, outlined against the bright sky. They shout and wave weapons, obviously gearing up for a charge.
The plan is painfully clear. Use the fog to break up the already strung out caravan and then attack the isolated wagons on this side. The defense would be broken up and unable to respond as one, due to the fog. The Wanderers could not even form up a wagon circle in defense. Indeed, in the rear they might not even be aware of the raiders attacking the front!
But there was a small wrinkle in their plan. Clearly they had no idea Awenasa was here. That gave her an edge but a dangerous one. She was alone, halfway up the hillside. Herja's wagon was nearly 30 feet down the hill behind her, while the attacks were a mere dozen feet ahead. Should she retreat? Attack? Wait for them to pass?
Awenasa's eyes narrow as the first figure emerges to call down magic on the caravan. Without knowing, whoever that is has just painted a huge target on themselves because she had been taught that magic wielders needed to go down quickly so that they couldn't help others.
She watches and quickly works out what the group is planning. She waits to see if all of the bandits move down the hill. When they all begin to move, including the magic wielder, Awenasa decides to use what she knows of lowlanders to strike fear into the bandits but also to warn Herja and hopefully Calo. She figures that the shape of the valley will work in her favour to echo the battle cry forming on her lips.
The Shoanti warrior quietly moves in behind the group of bandits and then lets out an ear piercing battle cry. Her voice reverberates through the valley, bouncing off the hills and she is certain that there isn't a person present who didn't hear it. After hours of being on edge, it is cathartic letting the cry out and she is invigorated.
Awenasa silently circles around the attacking bandits, taking up a position behind them. As they start to move down the hill, she watches them carefully. They aren't dressed very well, mostly wearing dirty rags and raw pelts, poorly cured. It is a mixture of men and women, with the magic user being a rather stocky woman with a shock of wild brown hair that reaches down past her waist. The Shoanti warrior keeps a close eye on her, knowing the magic user is probably the leader of this wolf pack.
Then, just as she can only see their backs, Awenasa jumps up onto a flat low rock. The stone is warm and gritty under her boots, the granite bright in the sunlight. She takes a huge breath and then lets out a great Shoanti battle cry, as loud as a wolf's howl. The roar rebounds off the rocky walls of the canyon, multiplying and fragmenting, as if returned by a dozen others.
One thing becomes very clear as her foes react to her surprise. The bandits are not Shoanti warriors.
Oh, her people got surprised sometimes, of course. That was the way of battle, and of the raid, but Awenasa's quah had plans for such things. A pattern to react. In her experience, a surprise like this would be greeted by two possible responses, decided ahead of time. If the road was minor, the Shoanti would merely melt away into the landscape and strike the attack as lost. If the raid or attack was major or critical, then the bravest and best warriors would turn and fight the ambushers in the rear while the rest kept charging.
The bandits did neither, and did the worst thing possible. They simply stopped in confusion, looking all around for the source of the shout. Most spotted Awenasa quickly but kept looking for others. Down below, Awenasa hoped the Wanderers would use these precious moments to prepare their defenses.
Awenasa's target proves to be out of her reach momentarily but this doesn't mean that she doesn't spring into action. Trusting that the clan had heard her warning and were readying themselves for a possible skirmish, Awenasa does what she can to remove bandits from the fight.
As she moves she follows up her battle cry with a menacing shout, "Leave or die!"
The first bandit she reaches, she levels a devastating punch meant to incapacitate.
Awenasa leaps down the slope toward the nearest bandit, a shabbily dressed man with a dirty beard. While her battle cry is still echoing off the canyon walls, she shouts at them to run or be killed where they stand. The man, obviously terrified and bewildered at her attack, stands like a deer caught in board daylight. Awenasa draws back her fist and crashes into the side of his head. The bandit staggers back from the sudden blow, blinking furiously, feet treading unsteadily on the gravel. She is disappointed that the man doesn't fall over, but he seems to have a very thick skull. That said, he is bleeding profusely from the temple and his eyes are unfocused. Not likely to participate much more in this fight.
The other bandits continue to be frozen, staring with dread horror at the fabled Shoanti warrior who just materialized into their midst. It was one thing to attack scared and confused merchants, taken by surprise, but quite another to be ambushed in turn by Shoanti warriors. Awenasa wonders if they will retreat and give up the raid as a bad job. She would have, by now. The fog bank was a good trick but the Wanderers were organizing now and the element of surprise was lost. That, plus an unknown foe behind them? A lifetime of raiding experience told her they should run, now, before more irreplaceable lives were lost. A quah treated each warrior as a resource not to be wasted.
But these were not Shoanti and they were not raiders.
The magic user wheeled on Awenasa, hair whipping in motion. "Attack! I will take care of this one!" She gestured a finger toward Awenasa, pointing up the slope. Despite her words though, no one pushes ahead, merely waiting and watching. Clearly she would need to do more then shout orders.
And yet the bandit leader grins and mutters some arcane word. The air shimmers around her, like a rock on a hot summer's day, bending the light. The shimmer grows until the magic-user is a mere haze of shifting colors, dazzling the eye. After a second it ends but when the effect ends, the woman is gone. In its place is the largest bear Awenasa has ever seen, with pure white fur and nearly twice as tall as she is.
The enormous ursine lets out a bellow of sheer rage, of primal anger and charges up the slope toward her. She is shocked at how fast the huge creature moves, paws digging into the gravel scree and sending it flying. Even uphill the bear is on Awenasa before she can even react, trampling the wounded bandit in its rush. It raises one mighty paw, claws as long as her fingers gleaming dully in the bright sunlight.
The first set of claws rip across her chest, tearing her shirt to shreds and leaving deep bloody gashes. Even as she recovers the second blow hits her on the shoulder, sharp points digging down to the bone. Then, to her shocked the arm pulls her in with unstoppable force toward a crushing bearhug.
Things do not go as Awenasa plans but really and truly, things had not gone as planned since she lost her sister. Some days, days such as this, Awenasa can't help but think she is cursed. Did the spirits take pleasure in watching her constantly struggle?
The bandit leader morphs into a giant bear and before Awenasa can feel vindicated or think, I knew those tracks weren't normal, the bear is upon her.
The Shoanti warrior grunts in pain and immediately switches into survival mode. Finding herself in a suffocating squeeze, she has no choice but to empty her body of substance and become air.
Awenasa's body turns to ethereal mist as she fades from this plane but does not quite travel all the way to the next. The quah elders thought this ability was somehow linked to the strange world ghosts and spirits inhabited, with more then one suggesting it was an early preview for her fate after death. The Shoanti warrior didn't know what to make of that, but she did know it made her impossible to hit.
Instantly the bear's grip falls away as Awenasa shifts form. As mobile as a cloud she maneuvers behind the bear, sliding around its massive bulk.
The bear roars in confusion and rage as its prey slips away. Awenasa gets the feeling not many who are grappled get away so easily from the beast. She isn't sure how much of the druid woman is still in there, but all she can seen is animalistic rage. However some semblance of reason must remain for the bear whirls instantly, small eyes seeking their foe.
They spot Awenasa and the huge creature rears up and batters at her shape again with the massive paws. This time however the ferocious attack simply passes right through the ethereal Shoanti warrior and slams on the ground. The attacks send rocks and gravel flying in all directions, thrown up by the beast's fury. It snarls in outrage as every swipe fails to make even the slightest purchase.
Awenasa is unharmed but still face to face with a giant, angry bear. She can't help but reflect that while she disrupted their ambush, her own attack seems similarly bogged down. At least no other bandit seems willing to join in, all hanging back.
Awenasa is painfully aware that no matter how much experience she has as a warrior, that every battle seems like a struggle - especially lately. But she knows she has no choice but to persevere because it is her responsibility to protect the others whatever the cost.
Knowing how quickly her opponent can move, running never even occurs to Awenasa. The warrior must press her attack.
As soon as she becomes corporeal again, Awenasa springs towards the ginormous bear in a flurry of kicks and fists.
Awenasa was a skilled warrior and a brave one. She knew that and prided herself on it, drawing on a rich tradition among her people of being ferocious and determined battlers. Still, despite all of that, she wasn't blood-mad or crazy. She knew that sometimes you faced a foe too strong for you and that you needed to retreat. Face to face with the foam-flecked maw of this massive bear seemed one of those times and yet...how could she? For one thing the bear was faster then she was and another thing, all a retreat would do is lead the bandits closer to the caravan, her charges. No, it was probably better to stand and die here, to gain time and injury the most capable foe. It was part of her oath to these people, just like it would have been for her quah. Besides, maybe she would see her sister....
So Awenasa prepared herself for death...but she was still human. She stole a glance backwards down the hill, at the stone bridge below.
While the fog clouds still obscured the bridge itself, Awenasa saw with satisfaction that the wagons on this side of the canyon had formed up in an organized manner, created an improtu set of fortifications. Even as she watched a wagon rolled out of the mist and became part of the forming barricade. Was that Moranna guding it? Good. It showed the Wanderers in the mist were not simply sitting there, paralyzed with fear or if they had, Awenasa had bought them the time to overcome confusion. Looking down at the wall of wood and Wanderers, Awenasa judged they could withstand the assault of a dozen or so bandits, even with an angry bear at their head.
She thought of Herja, of the Phuro, of the many children that made up the traveling clan. Awenasa had probably saved many lives with her actions and had upheld her oath to these people. Her soul could travel with confidence to the next world.
"Awenasa!" Then she saw a tiny figure break away from the forming wall of wagons and start toiling up the hill toward her, shouting her name. "Awenasa!"
It was, of course, Perey who looked even more pathetic from a distance. He wasn't very fast but he was running up the road as fast as he could, waving his arms.
The pure white bear let out a hungry growl that seemed tinged with laughter and Awenasa could understand. Perey did not make much of a savior. It looks like a child it stumbling up the slope. Yet he raises a hand and speaks some arcane word which is lost on the wind.
The bear suddenly rears back, roaring and swiping at the air with it's paws. A look of confusion and fear races across the huge muzzle. It vanishes in and instant, as the bear gathers itself, but Awenasa detects some doubt there now, some concern that has penatrated past the blind rage. Perey had done his best but Awenasa doubted it would save her. All he had done was placed himself in danger for nothing...
There was a flicker of movement at the edge of Awenasa' vision, a black blur moving as fast as a diving eagle. The shape blurred past her and wshot toward the suddenly confused bear.
A shaft of wood suddenly sinks into the bear's shoulder, sinking in up to the feathers. The bear lets loose a earth shaking roar as red blood stains the pristine white coat, adding to the wounds Awenasa has caused. Far, far below Moranna gives a tiny, barely visible bow. The Shoanti can't believe anyone could make that shot.
The bear recovered quickly, streaming blood and swiped at Awenasa. But it seemed slower, uncertain as if it was distracted by something or worried.
Awenasa dodges the paws with ease, slipping under them like a boxer in the ring. She has just enough time to thinks he is going to get away without injury when the huge jaws clamp around her arm and shake her like a rag doll. For a horrible moment Awenasa thinks the beast is going to tear her arm off, shoulder and all. But it withdraws in a moment, leaving her arm a torn and bloody mess, but still attached and still, amazingly, working.
Seeing the Wanderers rally to protect themselves fills Awenasa with relief and contentment. She is at peace thinking that if her death is to come, that it will not be in vain.
And then she hears someone yelling her name. She feels a mixture of disbelief, dread, and...pride. Most men, even some Shoanti, would keep as far from danger as possible and yet here is Perey running towards danger to help her. And this wasn't the first time. She can't help but think that Perey is more like Shoanti than either of them realized up until now.
Even though she understands the tinge of laughter in the bear's growl as Perey scrambles up the hill, she finds it makes her angry. After all, at the moment he is acting much more like a warrior than her bandits were. Then so many things happen almost simultaneously before Awenasa can respond. Suddenly there is an arrow sprouting from the bear's fur and then the bear attacks her mauling her arm.
She allows herself a small amount of hope knowing that she doesn't fight alone and rallies herself through the pain. She quickly weighs her options wondering if there's anything she can do to cause this bear to run or if her only option was to trade blows until one of them was dead. Ordinarily she would try to incapacitate her opponent and get them to yield but she isn't sure that this will work with a raging animal. Did she really want to grapple a furious bear or attempt to trip a creature with four legs?
With her arm throbbing, what becomes clear to Awenasa is that she needs a moment to collect herself. Hoping to catch the bear off-guard and use its size against it, the Shoanti warrior acts quickly and unexpectedly. Awenasa goes low and almost uses her whole body in a legsweep-like motion to knock the bear off balance and cause it to tumble over Awenasa and fall down the hill.
The bear falls in a shower of flying gravel as Awenasa knocks it's legs out from under it. It madly flails its legs trying to find purchase but the steep slope and unsure footing defeat it and the huge animal hits the ground hard. It creates a tiny landslide as it passes by Awenasa in a cloud of dust and scree. An oddly plaintive bellow issues from the bear's jaws as it comes to rest just downslope of the Shoanti warrior.
Perey is still madly running up the slope, waving his hands and shouting but no magic this time. She wonders just how many spells the little man can do in a day. And what was he planning to do once he got here?
The bear roars again, still flat on the ground. Awenasa stands over it, fist at the ready, knowing she needs to push her advantage as far as it goes. The fallen beast is a mass of wounds by now, the white fur stained a rich, deep burgundy from all the shed blood. Moranna's arrow still sticks out of a shoulder, blood oozing around it. Awenasa has the feeling that if this was a real bear, one dedicated to the hunt, it would have ran away long ago.
But it was not a real bear. The bear shifts and a dark eye fixes Awenasa with pure hate and rage. With a sudden roar it rises from the ground like a living snowbank, quick as a snake.
But the Shoanti is ready and she does not hesitate to punch the huge, snarling beast right between the eyes.
Awenasa feels the skull crack under her savage blow, the satisfying crunch traveling up her arm. The bear lets out a startled moan, shivers and falls back down in a heap. She waits a moment and...yes, it is still breathing but only just. The huge polar bears lies at her feet, unconscious for the moment and on the edge of death.
Around her the other bandits watch in a mix of horror and fascination at one woman (with a little help) fight a towering bear bare-handed....and win.
Awenasa feels exhausted and spent. She wants to sink to the ground and nurse her injuries. However, she doesn't have that luxury. Yes the bear appears unconscious and possibly close to death but the Shoanti isn't about to take the chance with it regaining consciousness. She digs out some rope and begins to truss up the bear in order to immobilize it.
Occasionally she glances at the bandits still standing around and glares a warning at them. Should they attempt anything, she'd rip their arms off. Finally, when they still make no move to leave she finally barks at them, "Go! Do not come back. I better not see any of you again!"
As Perey approaches with a doggedness that she had to grudgingly respect, she yells down at him, "Is everyone okay?"
It takes a lot of rope to tear up a very large bear but Awenasa has tied up animals before, although they had always been much smaller and dead. Still, the same concepts apply, and she winds the rope around the paws, legs and jaws of the huge recumbent beast. Her only fear is that the bindings might snap if the bear is strong enough, which she worries it is. She glances down at her torn and bloody arm. It indeed did seem strong enough to her.
Her shout at the bandits is enough to send them flying like a flock of quail startled by a coyote. They head back up the hill at a faster pace then they had charged down it, with little more then a few shouts of terror. At her feet he bear starts to stir when she shouts down to Perey.
Her fellow...Shoanti? (? Sort of?) waves his hand and shouts back, "Everyone is fine. Just a bit of fog. No bandits got close to even start attacking. You saved everyone!"
Just as he finishes the bear comes fully awake, the huge mass of red-stained fur shuddering back to live. A muted growling fills the air as the muzzled beast tries to snap and roar. Finding itself tied it starts to thrash and writhe, seeking to break the coiled bonds.
But Awenasa is too canny and too skilled a knot tier. How many hours can she spent knotting and unknotting tent straps as a child? The bear gives a final spasmodic jerk, realizes it is useless and grows still.
Then the bear starts to shimmer again, with that same flickering sight as before. In moments the bear is gone, once again replaced by a wild haired woman. Except now she is battered and bruised, bloody from head to hip, hair a matted mess of blood and dirt. Her face is nothing but a purple mass of cuts and scrapes, and Awenasa can see a few teeth missing. The woman gives a feral snarl as the ropes fall free, now too loose.
She rolls and tries to make her escape, clearly no more fight in her.
Awenasa is tempted to finish the bandit leader off as she turns to leave. It would serve her right for threatening the clan and it would also let everyone know that you didn't mess with the Wanderers. But...she just couldn't bring herself to do it. Still on guard, she watches the woman go but doesn't let her leave without a dire warning. "If I see you again, I will finish what you started. Wanderers, especially my clan, are off limits to you bandits. You see our wagons, you let them pass. There are plenty others to take from."
Awenasa does not relax until the woman disappears from sight. By this time, Perey has made his way up to where she stood. "You should be proud of yourself, Perey. You ran towards danger today when no one else did. You are more Shoanti than I give you credit for." She claps him on the shoulder and nearly knocks him off his feet in the process. "Thank you for having my back."
She looks down the hill at the wagons, "Do you know if they are going to continue up the hill or do we have to go get them?"
She collects her rope and coils it back up, noting that her blood has stained much of it a rust colour. She would need to deal with her mauled hand before too long but first they needed to get out of this valley.
The badly injured druid doesn't even look back as Awenasa shouts her warning, instead running up the hill and vanishing among the stones and rough scrubland. She is so skilled at melting into the landscape that even Awenasa, a past master at such things, is impressed and doubts anyone in her quah could have equaled it. A worthy foe indeed, but the Shoanti doesn't think she will see the wild haired woman again.
A predator so wounded does not return.
Perey blushes and stammers, "I wish I could have helped more...."He winces under Awenasa's friendly slap and adds, "You held them all off on your own! All by yourself! Sent them running. There should be a song or poem about it, Awenasa." Then he glances at her bloody and torn arm, still dripping blood. Very softly he hums a tune which mixes with the gentle breeze among the hills.
A warm glow flares on her arm for a few moments, and Awenasa can feel a jolt of healing magic. Not much, but at least it stops the bleeding and the bone no longer grates like a dried stick cracked in the wind.
"Thak can probably do a better job.." The strange man's healing powers have gained some fame in the caravan after he healed a young girl's burn after tripping into a cookfire a few nights ago.
Awenasa's other question is soon answered as the caravan starts to toil up the slope toward them. The magical fog has long vanished by now, evaporating as soon as the druid fled. The canyon is bright and clear now, and the wagons are a single neat line moving up the slope, although at a slow speed.
Finally, with much bellowing of oxen and creaking of wheels, Herja's lead wagon reaches them, making for the crest farther above. The horse trader gives Awenasa a long look but the wagon can't be stopped on such a steep grade.
"We will talk further, but first let's get these wagons to the top."
Awenasa turns a surprised face towards Perey, "By myself? Hardly. I wouldn't have survived if it wasn't for you running up the hill which distracted the bear and a well-placed arrow courtesy of Moranna."
She sighs in relief as healing energy washes over her. Perey's tune soothes her emotionally just as much as the magic heals her wounds. "Maybe, but you've started the process. I can keep going now until the caravan stops."
The Shoanti watches the wagons coming towards them, unwilling to admit to herself that she was glad she didn't have to go down the hill and then back up again. At this point, the less she has to exert herself the better.
Once Herja gets close enough to speak, Awenasa nods at him in agreement before taking her place at the front of the caravan. Even injured she needs to make sure that the bandits truly stayed away.
The Shoanti warrior is happy the wagon is slow up the steep incline because keeping pace at anything faster then a slow walk would have been impossible for Awenasa. She was as tired as she has ever been, as the adrenaline of combat is replaced by a tide of weariness and pain. Her arm ached, her shoulder burned and her head swam with sheer exhaustion after pushing herself to the limit fighting the huge bear. Every step up the rocky slope was like climbing a mountain of itself.
It was all she could do to not collapse when they reached the ridge at the top. Blinking tired eyes, Awenasa saw it opened on more flat ground, safe from any danger. There were no signs of bandits or of oddly productive plants (surely a sign of the druid). So she can sag a bit as the other wagons slowly roll up and past her, but not far. Clearly everyone wants to make camp early tonight after the bandit battle (and the heavy work of the oxen up and down the canyon).
Her spirit is lifted as the other wagons roll past her and cheer. Not because Awenasa wants attention or glory, but because they are happy and safe, proof she fulfilled her oaths and duty. There is a celebratory atmosphere in the air as the people roll past their champion who defeated the bandits all alone and without a single loss of life. People wave, doff their hats and even shout her name. Moranna stands and takes a florid bow, a grin on her lips. Awenasa hears rumors of a feast in the air as the wagons form up into a campsite.
The mood is slightly dampened when Herja walks over to her, face sober and serious. Eyes downcast he stops in front of her, unable to meet her gaze.
"I..." the horse trader starts then stops, clearly unable to phrase his words. He lets out a sigh and says, in his rough but understandable Shoanti, "The horse set out to get himself horns and was shorn of his ears." It is an old warrior saying of her people, relating to how pride goes before the fall.
"Forgive me." Herja adds, shaking his head at himself, "Or not. I almost got us all killed."
Awenasa isn't one to keep score or even believe that the universe somehow had some sort of cosmic scales that needed to be balanced; however, seeing each face roll by her in the wagons makes her feel the weight of being responsible for her sister's death a little less. At first she hesitantly acknowledges the cheers with a slight nod of her head. After the fourth wagon, she is waving back with a small smile on her face. When Moranna takes her bow, Awenasa applauds enthusiastically for her because the Shoanti knows that her arrow was key in turning the momentum of the fight.
She chuckles to herself when she hears rumblings of a feast. Her new family seems to take any and every opportunity to celebrate. It is something she will need to get used to.
She immediately schools her face back to seriousness as Herja approaches. The look on his face makes her wonder what has gone wrong and how much of it was her fault. Did one of the wagons get damaged before she chased off the bandits?
Her jaw drops in surprise as he quotes an old Shoanti saying and apologizes. "Of cour...of course," she stammers as she tries to collect her thoughts. As far as she is concerned, just because Herja and her had disagreed on what the signs meant that she had found didn't mean that anything different would have happened. They would have still had to cross the bridge and go through the valley. "There was no way to know what was going to happen. I found the bear prints and saw the unnatural plant growth and I was still surprised by a human turning into a bear. Everyone's safe, that's what matters. But thank you, your words mean a lot."
Herja shakes his head, "It isn't about what would have happened. It is about trusting you and following your advice. You said there was something wrong...and there was." The horse trader says this heavily but then shrugs, "What is done is done. I simply must do better. Come, I will not deprive you of the celebration." He pauses and looks toward Perey, "Charging ahead was very brave...but very foolish. It may have been better to stay behind, and join the main defense if Awenasa had fallen. And yet...I would never ask someone to remain behind if their friend was in danger. It was well done."
Perey's blush would rival a setting sun.
By the time Awenasa still tired, battered and slightly bleeding reaches the circled wagons, the feast preparations are already under way. Tables have been set up, chairs unfolded, and wide sheets of canvas to defeat the still bright sun. Food is set out, cook fires started and water gathered. It still amazes her how fast the Wanderers can shift both mood and situation. Half an hour ago they were a nervous column of armed men and women, and now they were setting up a veritable smorgasbord worthy of a king. Awenasa would never understand them.
They cheer her as she staggers into the circle, with shouts and cries in their own tongue. Awenasa cannot speak it, she has been busy learning Common, but she knows about to understand it is "Victory!". A few come up and slap her back or shake her shoulder, grinning from ear to ear. One woman quietly thanks for preventing a bloody fight.
Thak strides over, her first sight of the man since that morning. He had been in the rear wagons and probably missed the entire affair with the bandits. Lucky him.
He gives her a smile and says, "You were victorious. Everything a mighty Shoanti warrior should be, yes?" He glances at her town and battered arm, still red and raw. "A worthwhile token of your triumph. Do you wish to keep it, to show off to the others?" He laughs to show it is a joke and reaches out a healing hand.
The garrulous man is about to say more when Calo pauses nearby and says, "The Phuro wishes to speak with you, Awenasa." He points to a space between two wagons, already shaded from the sun. The ancient woman is already seated there, in her usual cushioned and padded seat, bright eyes sparkling in the growing firelight.
"You trusted me on some level the day we met. Trust will grow with experience. The important thing is that the clan is safe."
Awenasa can't help but grin when Perey starts to blush. "Come, we all deserve some food."...and some rest if I'm lucky
The zoralo doesn't say much, if anything, as the crowd offers cheers and thanks but she does acknowledge each person with a small nod. Each person she sees unharmed because of her actions gives a lift to her spirits even though she is exhausted.
Awenasa nods and repeats, "We were victorious, yes." She frowns at his suggestion of her wanting to keep her brutalized arm as something to brag about. Scars were one thing but her arm isn't useful in its present state. When his laugh suggests he is joking, her brow smooths as her frown disappears. As healing flows through her body, she closes her eyes and takes a cleansing breath as the pain recedes.
Calo's hovering presence is impossible to miss or ignore. When he points to where the Phuro waits for her, she can't help but wonder momentarily if she is in trouble somehow. Rarely had she met with her own elders unless there was something serious to discuss, and serious rarely meant good back home. She nods, "I understand."
She waits for just a moment to see if Calo is going to take her to the Phuro or if she was just supposed to go over on her own.
It becomes clear that she is supposed to go over on her own. Awenasa takes this as a good sign. At least she isn't being escorted to this meeting...whatever it is. For the moment the Shoanti turns her back on the growing party, although the smell of cooking meat and roasting vegetables makes her empty stomach growl furiously. Awenasa still didn't quite understand the need for so many feasts, she did admit to enjoying the good food shared at such events. But even if her meeting with the Phuro dragged on, there would be food left.
Assuming she would still be welcome at the table.
Back to the firelight, Awenasa approached the elderly woman with careful dignity. The ancient woman remained aloof from the caravan and rarely participated in day to day events. Indeed, some days passed where she never emerged from her wagon at all, especially when strangers or outsiders were about. Awenasa got the feeling that the old woman was not just a wise elder and highly respected for that, but some sort of vague holy figure, a sacred object to be venerated in private. Was it because of her rank or because of how she was? Wanderer beliefs were complicated.
The Phuro sat alone, her eyes watching the growing reveal with an unreadable face. It was a mask of wrinkles, liver spots and old scars, a lifetime of travel and pain, suffused by a patina of advanced age. Awenasa doubted she would live long enough to relate.
The woman caught Awenasa's eye and indicated she come closer. As the Shoanti strode up, the old woman, with a flick of her wrist, withdrew a knife. And not just any knife. It was dazzling sharp, steel catching the failing sunlight with a flash. The handle was old white bone, yellowed with age and long use. With surprising dexterity the Phuro flips the blade to Awenasa, who catches it mid-air with automatic skill.
"Cut your palm." The Phruo says in her soft voice that reminds Awenasa of old, comfortable leather. "Draw your blood, child."
Awenasa is tired, hungry, and still a little sore but that doesn't keep her from being respectful of the Phuro. Even if she hadn't already observed that the Phuro is revered in a way not usually observed, the fact that she is obviously the elder of the clan is enough to make Awenasa obey and show honour.
As she approaches, Awenasa catches sight of various old scars and she can't help but wonder what stories went along with the scars. Each scar speaks to the path that a life took. Even with healing from Perey and Thak, the Shoanti believes that her arm will bear scars from her fight that day and they will remind her of how she kept her oath to the clan.
Numerous thoughts flow through Awenasa's mind as the knife draws her full attention as the blade glints when it catches the light. Was this another attack? A gift? A test? Awenasa tries to read the Phuro's face as she snags the dagger out of the air when it is tossed at her but years of practice has made her face unreadable.
Awenasa looks down at the knife almost uncomprehendingly, hearing the Phuro's words but having trouble understanding why she would ask her to do such a thing. Hadn't she bled enough today? Hadn't she given enough of herself today? If forced to walk one mile, should she willingly go two? However, duty and honour win over her tired thoughts. The Phuro was the elder of the clan, her elder, and it would be disrespectful to refuse an elder's directive.
She closes her eyes and takes a deep, cleansing breath before opening them again to poise the knife over her palm. Without a wince, she drags the sharp blade across her palm and opens up a new wound to add to the older ones. Awenasa locks eyes with the Phuro. "Now what?", she asks expectantly.
To Awenasa's surprise the Phruo twirls her fingers and reveals another, matching knife. Who could have guessed that those old knobbed hands, with paper skin and visible veins would be so nimble to create a magic trick? For an instant the razor steel shines like a shard of ice and then, without ceremony, the old woman draws it across her own hand. The skin parts effortlessly, and a small sheet of dark blood pools in her cupped palm.
"Now, we mix."" The elderly woman offers her bloody hand to Awenasa.
For an instant their hands meet, the blood mingling together. There is no buzz of magic, no thunder of the gods and yet....Awenasa isn't sure. She draws her hand back, bunching it in a fist to stop the bleeding.
The Phruo ignores her own wound and looks at Awenasa, "We are linked, Awenasa of both the Shoanti and the Stair of Stars. You have saved my blood just as we have saved yours. This meeting," he gestures with her bloody palm, still dripping freely onto the parched stony ground, "symbolizes this coming together."
Then she sighs, "Ironic since we are now to come apart. In a fair world we would travel together for many miles, but the world is not fair and the paths we take are divided, rough and without guides." Another sigh from the Wanderer leader.
She waves at the road that winds ahead, a rutted wagon road winding into the hills. "We follow this road for many leagues, on our great circuit. But your path, I think, lies that way." An aged finger points due south, perpendicular to the road they are sitting on. "Towards the sea, yes? It lies that way, only a few days from here if you travel overland."
Awenasa does not take the blood ritual lightly. To mix blood with someone meant an unbreakable bond and she didn't think that the Phuro did this with many others and especially not Shoanti. She listens intently to the Phuro's words, expecting that this would further deepen her bond to the clan. She thinks momentarily that her promise to Dawnlight has faded some more as new obligations emerge.
The Shoanti is still processing the symbolic mixing of her blood with the Phuro's when she hears the words that she never thought she'd hear so soon. "You're releasing me? But I thought...the blood mixing...my oath...I don't know what to say."
Awenasa had been expecting to be with the clan for a long time. Part of her had thought they'd travel together until they reached the sea. To realize that this wasn't the case and to be presented with the opportunity to help her quah by continuing on her original path, she feels both relief and sadness. She is eager to continue in her quest to help her quah but she will miss her new clan. They had accepted her and given her a safe place to be while she learned better how to live among Lowlanders.
She kneels beside the Phuro and takes her hand to put pressure on her wound as much as it was to show respect. "Thank you for all you've done for me and for making me feel like family. I also thank you for seeing that our paths diverge and for sending me in the right direction. My path may be different from yours but I will carry the Stair of Stars with me wherever I go. I hope the spirits cause us to cross paths again in the future."
Awenasa glances over at the feast going on on the other side of the camp. She realizes that she isn't in much of a celebratory mood. She also realizes that she is uncertain how to proceed and trusts in the Phuro's experience. Near the beginning of their journey together, Awenasa would have just collected her meager belongings and left but now part of her wanted to say goodbye and thank you to those she considered like family. "So what now? Do I leave quietly? Do we have to have a clan meeting?"
The Phuro shook her head at Awenasa's confusion about such a vital and key oath, and then instantly being released. "Child, I am not releasing you from anything. Are you 'released' from your old family, simply because of the miles between? Do mere steps down the road disunite you? No, you are still as Shoanti as the day you stepped off the Plateau, child. Now, you are also..." The elder pauses and then says, "You are now Rătăci, one of the long walkers. Carry our name proudly and well, Awenasa of the Stair of Stars. I see many miles in your future, although that is just an old lady's guess, not true Sight."
She makes a fist, blood squeezing out between her leathery fingers. "Paths cross, mix and divide. No Wanderer can say where their feet may lead or where the signs might point. We may meet again this side of the final road, or we may not. But in any case, we will be with you. My people. Our people."
The Phruo looks scandalized when Awenasa suggest hurrying off in the middle of the night, although it fades to sadness. "Are you a thief? A beggar? You are a friend, Awenasa, a member of our family. Do the Shoanti do this, send off their blood without farewell? Well, we do not." She gives Awenasa a small smile, "Why else do you think I indicated a feast? It will give you a suitable moment to say goodbye. Embrace your friends and relatives, child. It is these moments that make the darkness or cold to come, more bearable. Enjoy the fires while you can."
Awenasa tests the new word on her lips, trying to mimic the Phuro, "Rătăci." She then slowly nods, "I will be Awenasa of the Tamiir-Quah and the Stair of Stars. Regardless of what I encounter next, I will carry the name proudly."
She had left the Plateau thinking she was alone and would remain that way until she was able to return and hopefully be welcomed back if she was successful. She had not gone looking for another family but one had found her. Even though she knows she needs to leave, part of her doesn't want to. She may have been on the periphery of the Wanderers during her time with them but she had still belonged, if only for a short time.
Awenasa blushes and looks at her feet when gently chastised by the Phuro when she suggests leaving sooner than later. "Forgive my words. Last time I met alone with an elder speaking about the future, I had to leave quickly and quietly. I'm so used to being a tool in someone else's hands that sometimes I forget that I have an identity of my own."
She looks over at the feast that is now in full swing but her heart is heavy. "This will be difficult. I'm not even sure where to begin." Her stomach rumbled loudly, "Maybe food first and goodbyes second. Are you going to join us or is this our goodbye?"
Awenasa says goodbye to the Phuro and finds herself feeling a little choked up. "Thank you for welcoming me and for saving my life. I will never forget you."
She leaves the Phuro with her mind reeling. In the blink of an eye everything had changed. She couldn't believe that she is finally able to seek out Eivind the Heavy Hand while keeping her honour intact. The Phuro had said that the sea was only a few days away. Awenasa feels a small ray of hope as she gets one step closer to accomplishing what she had left her quah to do, find Eivind and compel him to help the Shoanti. Her stomach rumbles again and she begins to make her way towards the delicious smells.
She makes a mental list of what she needs to do before she leaves. She would need to say goodbye and thank you to Herja and Moranna. She also needs to speak with Calo and make sure that he knows that the clan would need him now more than ever with her leaving. But more than anything else, she needs to have a serious conversation with Perey to find out if he'd be leaving with her or staying with the clan. Then there was Thak. She is almost certain that he would know about the sea and so she would ask him to tell her what he knows.
The Shoanti gathers some food and begins to search for Perey. Best to have the hardest conversation first. Even though Dawnlight had sent them off together on the same journey, Awenasa is unsure whether Perey would continue now that he had had a taste of life with the clan. She doesn't like the idea of going alone but realizes she can't fault him if he remains behind. This uncertainty makes her believe their talk could be difficult.
As Awenasa selects some food from the feast table, it feels slightly unreal. Here she was picking up a honeyed roll, a pair of stuffed peppers and a plate of cheesy cornmeal but soon she is going to set off on a grand journey to find the greatest Ulfen hero of all time. Lately she has been so focused on just the next day or the next challenge, Awenasa hasn't given much thought to her actual quest.
To find and convince Eivind the Heavy Hand to help her. It make her hands shake and she almost dropped a tiny bowl of spiced mushroom soup.
She finds Perey, as usual, sitting with the musicians. A few already have their instruments out but the serious music has not yet started. They too are mostly eating, the feast having just begun. All give her cheers and slightly sardonic salutes. Perey looks happy here, sitting fairly at ease despite sticking out like a brown leaf on a green tree. Still, he seems to git in far more easily here then he ever did in Awenasa's home. She wonders, for the first time, if the Tamiir-Quah could have treated this outlier better.
He notices her quickly however, and seeing her face, stands up. Perey excuses himself and follows Awenasa to a slightly more private area.
"Something is wrong?" The young man says, reading Awenasa's expression.
Awenasa continues to place food on her plate as she is lost in thought about Eivind. She had not allowed herself to think about what was ahead until now for fear that it would be years before she could leave without breaking her oath. Now it feels a little overwhelming and her body responds to her uncertainty of how to succeed by causing her muscles to spasm and makes her realize that her hands are full enough of food as she almost spills some.
It doesn't take much to locate Perey and part of her feels slightly guilty for tearing him away but this conversation couldn't wait. She gives a small nod at the cheers and acknowledgements but her face remains serious. She waits for Perey to follow and then leads them a little ways away where they could talk.
"Things are changing. Whether it's bad depends on how you see it." Awenasa takes a bite of her cornmeal before continuing. "The Phuro has seen that my path and the path of the clan are diverging. Tomorrow I part ways from the Stair of Stars to continue on the quest for our quah. I came to find you to let you know so that you can think about whether you come with me as Dawnlight intended or if you continue with the clan."
Awenasa let her words hang in the air as she took a few more bites of the delicious, filling food and silently bemoans the fact that she wouldn't be eating this well in a long while. "This is completely your decision. I would be honoured to have you continue with me for you have shown yourself to be resilient and capable in situations most others would have run from...but, I do not want you resenting me for convincing you to come with me when you clearly have developed ties within the clan."
She then busied herself with stirring and eating her bowl of soup, giving Perey time to process her words and not really wanting to look at him for fear of what she may read on his face. "You can take the night to think about it. I won't leave before the clan breaks camp tomorrow."
Perey is silent for a moment and Awenasa half prepares to walk away, letting the young man think about his options. Her own thoughts are a confused jumbled mess and she doesn't want to bother him-
"Why are oaths so important?" Perey suddenly says, voice clear in fading evening light. "Really, Awenasa, why?"
To her the question made as much sense as asking why people needed to breathe but her fellow Shoanti went on, "Aren't you happy here? Aren't these good people? They have welcomed us, took us in. We could stay here, become real parts of the caravan. Don't you think that would be nice? Why are you so dedicated to a mission for a quah that kicked us out!" And with that he stands up, suddenly, accidentally knocking Awenasa's food to the ground. The hot soup steams for a second before being sucked up by the dry earth. Perey's face turns red, he stammers and then flees deeper into the network of parked wagons and oxen.
Awenasa is debating chasing after him when a soft word behind her makes her whirl.
"You fight?" It is Calo, holding an untouched plate of food as well. Seeing her face he holds up a placating hand, "Not my place."
His eyes drop and he adds, "So...you leave us then? Off on your real quest?" The wrestler's voice is downcast and soft, barely audible over the rising sounds of feasting nearby.
Awenasa turns to leave and is stopped in her tracks by Perey's outburst. She isn't completely surprised as she knows that he's made some strong ties with those in the clan and probably doesn't want to leave.
"It's not oaths that are important, Perey," she says quietly, "it's keeping them that's important." The Shoanti looks tired and sad as she meets Perey's questioning look, "Of course these are good people and I have grown to care for them like family. But, I gave my word to She-Who-Upsets-The-Water before I met them. If I do what I want because it's easier or more comfortable then my word means nothing. We may not have left the quah on the best terms but that doesn't change the fact that the Shoanti are in trouble and need our help."
Her words follow Perey as he hastily leaves. She wonders if anything she said even registered with him being as upset as he was. She figures that she will find out tomorrow when he either joins her or doesn't. She realizes that she will be sad if he decides to stay with the clan but her feelings mattered very little in the matter.
Calo's sudden appearance pulls her mind away from deciding whether to follow Perey or not. She shakes her head sadly, "Disagreement more than a fight."
Awenasa is surprised to hear sadness in Calo's voice and wonders if she has misunderstood. She did not think he'd be upset by her leaving. "I'm glad you stayed with the clan because now they will need you more than ever. I guess I was always the one meant to leave, not you. That's what the Phuro wanted to speak to me about, my path going a different direction than the clan's. I have fulfilled one oath and now I need to keep my word on another...but that doesn't mean it's easy to leave."
"You seek the sea," the wrestler says shrugging, "Although I do not know why, exactly. But your oath is your own. You are one of us, but not of us. I think you will always have your own path Awenasa, your own way to go." The Wanderer frowns a bit and then adds quickly, "I don't mean that in a bad way. Heros and legends are always set off from the rest. And I think you are one of them Awenasa."
Then he smiles, "Well, maybe the start of one. You perhaps have a long way to go, both the miles under your feet and the journey of your heart." Before the Shoanti has time to process this Calo steps in front of her and bows low, once. "Thank you, Awenasa. Your time with us has made some things clearer for me. I am honored to have known you and hope, one day, we meet again. Good luck and may the stars guide your feet, even on the darkest nights. Remember, not all who wander are lost."
In what seems to be the theme of the night, as soon as Calo leaves another figure emerges from the now growing shadows of late afternoon. Was there a line of people, silently jostling for position and their turn to say good by?
It was Thak, wearing a bright yellow robe and his reddish skin gleaming in the sunset light.
"Awenasa, you are well I hope?" he looks at her hand, the slight cut just visible, "I hope the Phuro did not bite too hard. She is a formidable woman." A quick grin and then more soberly, "So, you set off on your own, yes? Off to....wherever it is you are going."