A Lost World

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Blindside Tex
The Queen

To be forgotten is worse than death

Posts: 3,025

A Lost World Mar 20, 2022 12:10:27 GMT -5

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Post by Blindside Tex on Mar 20, 2022 12:10:27 GMT -5

The great northern mountains, otherwise known as the Northern Tress Mountains. It was home to one of the most aggressive tribes to grace the crust of this world. They were known for protecting their own. For protecting the strange temples of the old world that lie within their territory that stretched high within the mountains. Their location offered them a great advantage over the other people of the world. Few dared to venture into the snowy heights. Jagged cliff faces followed by nightmarish beasts were just two of the reasons. Another? The Northern Tress Mountains were covered in snow for all but two months of the year. It was cold. Uninhabitable.

Though the tribe that lived here, known as the Umari, they learned how to live within this unforgiving landscape. Their people became the best hunters known to the land. They could bring down a pack of wolves, with just a few of their warriors. It was a sight to see, truthfully. The tribe gained trade with other tribes over the years by offering the fresh meats of their kills to the low landers they created a sort of treaty. They would trade meat for fresh vegetables, trinkets, and other goods that the tribe leader deemed important at the time. But trade can come at a cost…

**

A tall red bearded man pulled a cart along. He had his hair done in braids, and a blue tattoo upon the right of his face that swirled along his skin. The tribal leader had agreed to trade with a tribe beyond the Northern Plains. It was where the grass turned dry and sands swirled into the environment. “Father! Father!” A young fiery haired girl rushed forward, she had a smile upon her lips as she looked up to him.

The red bearded man glanced down to the young child with a grin, “What is that you’ve got there?” He questioned.

It was a single beautiful blue flower that the young girl had plucked from the sands. A woman with beautiful flowing dark hair walked along with them, “You may as well be an Arutar farmer.” She smirked as she plucked the flower from her. “It is beautiful though.” She twirled the flower about in her fingertips. She turned and tucked the flower into the young child’s hair. There were others with them, two other carts of goods for trade. The Sunnik people had offered their tribal leader great goods in exchange for three carts of meat. He offered new weapons, armor, clothing. This was as far as many of the Umari had ever traveled. “Rhav, look.” The woman spoke as she pointed in the distance.

In the heat of the desert a city could be seen in the distance, the waves of heat rippled the appearance of the great city. The red bearded man, Rhav, grinned as he saw this. “Finally, I was beginning to believe that this grand city did not exist.”

The woman chuckled lightly and leaned up, she placed a kiss up Rhav’s cheek. “Well, we are almost there, then we can return to our mountains.” She glanced to the young fiery haired child. “Come on dear.” She took her hand. “We are nearly there.”

As they descended down a sand dune toward the city in the distance they entered a type of gorge. Huge rock cliffs rose on either side of them. Rhav glanced about the cliffs with wary eyes, but he pressed on. As the last of their caravan entered the gorge a burst of flames appeared before them, blocking their path. From above there was yelling and soon enough arrows began to fly through the air. The cowards had planned this attack. Rhav turned, “Skya!” He called out as he watched an arrow pierce through the back of his daughter. The young fiery haired girl fell to her knees. His blue hues gazed about, he saw his wife toss her spear upward, and only a moment later an arrow pierced into her heart. Rhav rushed forward to his daughter and scooped her into his arms. He did the only thing that he could think of, he ran. Rhav leaped over the flames that barred his path. He ran from the gorge. Arrows pierced the ground near him but he managed to avoid the blows. He gazed down to his daughter in his arms as she took in breaths that shuddered. “Stay with me Skya.” He breathed as he ran. He could feel the warmth of her blood as it soaked into his leathers and ran along his own skin.

Rhav ran until he reached the lush green grasses of the Northern Plains. He fell to his knees as he set his young daughter down. She still had the beautiful blue flower in her hair. “Skya.” He spoke as he brushed her hair from her eyes, this only smeared blood from his hands onto her skin. The young girl was barely breathing at this point. Rhav did his best to keep her alive. But in the end...the child could not overcome the terrible injuries.

**

Thus, the beginning of a war. The Umari tribal leader once he heard of what happened to his people. How they had been killed by such cowards. He prepared for ward. He asked of the help of the only clan that he truly trusted. The Arutar people. With their bows and his tribe’s spears. They would be unstoppable. The Sunnik people believed they had made a dent in the Umari people by killing the caravan. But as they marched into the Northern Plains that would one day be known as the Northern Sanction...they found that they were wrong about the weakness that they sought to exploit.

The war was gruesome. With it came the loss of many lives, but it was mainly the lives of the Sunnnik people. With that, the Umari people lost even more trust in those around them and they became that much more aggressive toward anyone that entered their lands unannounced. It was a vicious cycle.

Not long after the war ended Rhav was sent by the tribes Shaman Cika to make an offering to the gods. To ask for peace of his soul after he had lost his family. Rhav climbed the jagged cliffs toward the old temple that was made of metals and shiny objects. It was buried deep within the crusts of the mountain. He had made this trek before for the old Shaman. As Cika aged she was unable to make such a climb anymore. So she would send a chosen one to make the offering in her stead. Rhav paused before the structure of the temple. He stared at it and the jagged sharp edges of the build. He marveled at the architecture. It was a wonder how the people of the past had created such a thing. Metal was such a scarcity in his time. This was the reason his people wore furs and leathers, with little or no armor. The little metal that they could find was used for their weapons.

Rhav held a wooden box that was filled with various items that Cika had chosen for the offering. He hadn’t looked in it until he came before the beautifully painted alter. He lowered to his knees as he slowly opened the box. “God of Strength, Zinus. Please hear me.” He spoke as he pulled a fresh cut of meat, the head of a spear, and a bottle of herbs from the box. “Our people had suffered many losses since the last offering. A war was waged.” He spoke as he set out the items neatly upon the alter. He bowed his head to the ground. “We seek your strength.” He spoke as he closed his eyes. There were many glyphs of this temple that his people had never understood. Many of the glyphs they would paint upon their bodies, or upon their homes. The paints of war were their expression of their love of their Gods.

A grinding sound came from the temple before Rhav. He did not move. His head remained pressed into the cool floor of the temple. He continued speaking softly of the war, of the loss of his daughter, his wife. He told the God everything. He did not cease until he heard the soft coo of a babe. He froze in that moment. Rhav didn’t move until he heard a soft cry from the babe. His eyes lifted and he looked upon a miracle. His breath caught in his chest, his eyes widened. He reached forward and grasped the child. His eyes looked up to the statue that he had bowed before. “Thank you.” He spoke as his voice shook. “Thank you.” He held her to his chest as he stood slowly. The child reached and grasped at his red beard and giggled lightly.

Rhav returned to the Umari Village with the miracle child. He sat within the Shaman’s hut. The old woman wore a skull over her head and various bones and skins about her body. She reached forward to the child with a smile upon her lips. “This is why I sent you.” Cika spoke in her all knowing voice. “The God would not have gifted me such a miracle.” She lay the babe down on a fur bed and she drew upon her skin several different designs. Cika turned and hugged Rhav. “This child is our future.” She hummed happily.

**

Ezara

20 years later…

A white haired woman hung from one of the poles of the training course. She swung her feet and leaped forward to narrowly escape a blow to her side by the moving mechanism that one of the tribal members ran. She leaped along the vertical poles and rolled upon another platform. A chuckle came from her lips as she hopped down from the course. “Beat that time, Yukka.” She tossed her thick white hair over her shoulder. She held several braids within her hair that were wrapped in place with beautiful wooden beads. Her eyes were a striking jade, unlike the eyes of anyone in the tribe. She wore a single red line of paint down the right side of her face that gave her a fierce appearance. She was adjourned in leathers and silvery white furs of a wolf that she had killed some years ago.

“Enough play Ezara.” Cika held onto an old staff as she hobbled forward. “We have much to do, child. Come. Come.” She spoke with a smile. The old woman was getting frail in her age.

The white haired woman chuckled and tossed a spear to the young boy that she had been training with. She rushed to the Shaman’s side and followed her along. “What do you wish for me to do?” She questioned, her brows tugged together.

“I have a few wounded that have returned from their hunt. I believe they would benefit from your healing hands, Ezara.” Cika looked up to her with her nearly white eyes.

“I see.” Ezara spoke as she walked forward into the Shaman’s hut. Cika had taken her under her wing. If she was not training with the Shaman then her father Rhav was teaching her how to fight. He was the weapons smith for the entire tribe. So he knew his way around a weapon. She gazed about the round hut and looked to the two young warriors that lay upon the cots beneath fur skins. She stepped forward and knelt next to one. Her jade hues looked to the deep gash in the man’s side as she pulled the blanket away. He winced and gripped her hand, his eyes begged her for mercy. “Shh, it’s alright.” She spoke as she moved about the room. She was trained well. By the best Shaman she could possibly train under.

Ezara grabbed herbs and mashed them together she then formed them into a paste that was a thick green color. She cleaned the wound and the young warrior cried out in pain. Eventually she cupped her hand over his side, over the top of the salve. Ezara’s eyes began to glow white as she spoke a prayer to the gods. A white glow came from her hand and spread over the skin of the warrior. As she took her hand away the wound was all but gone. Only pink flesh remained where the gash had once been. She stood slowly and moved to the young female warrior. Ezara examined her and found a horribly mangled leg. She looked over the crushed bones and tilted her head slightly. “You can heal her, Ezara.” Cika spoke as the woman knelt before the fire and tossed in a few herbs which filled the room with an earthy scent. “You’re the only one that can help her, young shaman.”

Ezara gathered herbs. She looked to the young warrior whom was barely clinging to consciousness. “Chew on this. It will help with your pain.” She spoke as she held the leaf to her mouth. The woman did as she was told. Ezara went to work. She spread the salve over the wound and she straightened the leg, even with the screams of the woman, she did not stop. Ezara held her hands over the leg and she squeezed her eyes shut as the white glow came to her palms once again. Her breathing increased. Her head lulled forward as she healed the girl. It took several minutes but as Ezara’s hands fell away and she collapsed upon the ground next to the cot, the young warrior stared to her leg in shock. It was as good as new.

Cika chuckled, proud. She stood over Ezara. “She will wake. But now she needs rest.” She spoke with a warm smile.

**

5 years later…

Ezara sat within the Shaman’s hut before the fire. Cika had passed nearly three years ago now. She had taken the position as Shaman to her tribe. She had her legs crossed and her eyes closed as she prayed to the gods. She would make her offering to the great temple tomorrow, early in the morning. It was something that she did each month to ensure that her people were in favor of the gods. It was where she had gained her healing powers in the first place. She had been 10 or so when she ventured inside of the temple. Somewhere no one had ever gone before.

“Ezara.” A voice entered the hut as a man with dark hair and beard walked in. He was covered in furs. The wind outside howled as the first strong storm threatened their village. This was Rok, the leader of the tribe. He knelt before her on the other side of the fire. “Our people have yet to return from the trade with the plains.” He spoke as he looked to her with his dark hues. He held black paint that ran down his cheeks that encased his eyes. “Do you have any guidance, Shaman?”

Ezara looked to him with her jade hues a long moment. “Rok. If they have not returned by nightfall. I will lead a party to find them. But with the weather. I can imagine that even for the Umari warriors it is not an easy task to pull a cart upon the side of the mountain.” She gave a beautiful smile to him.

“You will not.” Rok spoke, his voice harsh. “I will not risk losing you.” He moved around the fire and gripped her chin, “You’re our miracle, Ezara. I’m certain other tribes know of you. I wouldn’t want to risk you becoming a prisoner.” He released her and then turned away.

Ezara drew in a breath as she watched her tribal leader walk from her hut. A sigh came from her lips and she shook her head. She was already a prisoner, wasn’t she? She was not allowed to leave the village, except for when she gave offerings to the god of the temple. That was the only time she was allowed to leave. Rok kept her close. He ensured that she had all of her herbs and everything that she needed to be a great Shaman for his people. She shifted and tossed a few herbs upon the fire which turned the orange flames a greenish blue color for a moment. Ezara settled back in cross legged before the fire then. She closed her eyes and prayed to the gods...

Raven
Noble

Word

Posts: 2,761

A Lost World Mar 20, 2022 13:01:23 GMT -5

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Post by Raven on Mar 20, 2022 13:01:23 GMT -5

The Arutar is made up of many small villages throughout the rolling hills of the northern sanction. These particular people are known for their agriculture advances. Inspired by an ancient design by the old ones, uncovered some time ago – they implemented a Well System, which then pumped water up to their expansive farms. They would build the farms on the hills and allow gravity to pull the water down the farms, allowing growth even in the droughts in the summers. The everlasting snowy mountains provided endless water to these boundless wells.

With the great gift of the mountains – came a pact with the people of these mountains, the Umari. Feared and powerful warriors of the mountain peaks, as rigid and strong as the rocky sides of the towering land. The Arutar would offer trade of fruits and vegetables, hemp and fibers, as well as their most recent discovery; coffee beans. Though unlike other Clans – the operation of trade was different. Rather than offering one giant trade in a sitting, organized by Clan leaders – it was done by individual families who did the work. They would organize the trade and return their piece of the trade to the clan, while keeping their share. This enabled the workers to ensure that they get their share, while still requiring them to spread the wealth with others. It worked because most of the Clan was already engaged in some way. The warriors would spend at least an hour a day helping the local farmers, moving bundles or sowing the fields, everyone pitched in – so everyone benefited. The return of trade from the Umari was meat, hide and such.

While being an primarily agricultural Clan – they did not shy away from battle. The hills were often home to some dangerous beasts, which often killed the local game. Additionally, the lands were not afraid of war, and many wanted trade with the Arutar. As a requirement – every young adult is required to do 2 years of military training. Where they would leave their families and reside in the capitol – Rowtown. Their primary source of power was behind the long bow, traps and even bomb crafting. Though they could wield a sword and shield for close combat, they were masters of the terrain and use it to their advantage.

This lead to a very deadly alliance combination between the Umari and Arutar. The Umari were fierce warriors of close combat, and the Arutar were precise archers that provided great cover. Together on their mountainside and hills – the Northern Sanction was untouchable…

***

Fall was coming to end swiftly, the winds were shifting and the frigid cold was on its way. They had only a month to finish preparing. This meant making final trades with the Umari, they needed pelts badly, and meat to store. The incoming cold meant the end of the growing season, leaving the Arutar with nothing but their bows for the winter…

The small hovel of the Greenclove family was high in the hillside. They maintained a farm of pleasures, which meant they had to trade a lot to get their desired goods for the winter. They farmed Oats, Barley and Hops, as well as being the only provider of Coffee in the entire northern-scapes, making them a sought out trade. It did not come cheaply though, as Coffee was temperamental and a pain, Kane Greenclove was just about the only one who could do it right. Other than Oats – they had little that they could resource for themselves… however a small bag of Roasted Coffee-beans would be a mighty trade of several sacks of grains and rice…

“Do you have everything?” A man spoke, he sat in a wooden chair, propping his head over a parchment. He scratched off several things. “Two crates of beans, 10 sacks of Oats, 5 sacks of barley, 5 sacks of Hops, 20 steel bars, 2 sacks of coal” he rambled off the list into the small room.

“Father, yes. I’ve check three times now…” A gentle voice returned. A woman stepped into the room. She was of average height, but was rather muscular for a girl. With no help in the family, it was just her and her father – Jorah, who sat at the dining table of the small home. They both tended to the farms, which meant lifting, sowing, plowing, everything. While they got help from the locals in the burdening times, they kept to themselves for the most part.

“You know the route, right?” The man lifted his head. He had a thick grey beard, with long peppered hair that was pulled back. His eyes were heavy and dark – his forehead slightly sweaty. He was sick, his tired nature was clear across his face.

“Yes, of course. The Western trail, to the Dragonfork – go North, and ride for half a cycle, then its clearly marked. Father… I can do this” she smiled to him. She had auburn hair, which she had unique barrettes in her hair that held large locks together, which flowed about her head. Though on one side of her head she had a more traditional Umari braid, of whom she admired greatly. Her life as a farmer was not the end for her – and she always made that clear. While she was happy to help, for her father’s sake, she would rather wield her bow and adventure.

“And you have enough leathers?” Her father questioned, he tried to get up but groaned heavily.

Aria stepped to her father and smirked “I’m not a little girly anymore… I will be back in a week, and I will get the medicine you need…” she placed a hand on his shoulder, pushing him back down to sit. Yes, she was not a child, certainly not. Most woman her age were already siring with a husband, their own farm up and coming….. but Aria was driven to take care of her father, a Widowed man who was too passionate to marry again. Though many lined up – his farm was the talk of the talk, and in comparison to the Arutar, he would be considered quite wealthy… but his Father cared not for stature or wealth, he kept his secrets to the family, and their farm was not a political stance.

There was a knock on the door that interrupted their conversation. Aria turned and her booted steps clacked on the wooden floor of the hovel. The roof of the home was only a few feet above her head, but their hill-side homes were perfect and petite. Their living room was just a small couch infront of a fireplace. Their kitchen and dining area was shared. Though the house continued down into the earth, a basement of two rooms and a dry storage room….

Aria opened the door to see a surprise, which crossed her face. Her bright blue eyes widened and she cleared her throat “Commander Jorah” she stepped back and opened the door.

A tall and burley man entered, he had medium length black hair and a scruffy beard. He wore his ranger attire. Despite being the leader of the entire Clans – he remained in his position as Commander of the Rangers. He was not a Clans-Leader that sat back idle, he participated and taught many. “Aria” he smiled and stepped into the small home.

“What – um – brings you by?” She questioned as she followed him. The Ranger walked into the kitchen and placed a hand on Kane’s back.

“Ah, I was in the neighborhood. I heard you were venturing to the Trade Port for a last minute haul. I wanted to offer something” he turned and pulled a pouch out. “This is powdered inkroot. A very interesting pigment that upon different angles – changes color. It’s a rare one that the Umari covet as a highly valuable trade… I am giving it to you. I know you want to speak with their healer.. hopefully get Kane here” he pat the man’s back with a grin. “A bit of a boost, hm?” he turned and handed the bag over. It was no bigger than her fist.

“R-really?” she questioned and held the bag, it was squishy like a bag of sand. “Why are you doing this?” she questioned softly.

“Aria – you shouldn’t question the gift” Kane spoke and then coughed into his hand, shuddering slightly.

“Well.. your trade with the Umari is actually an advantage. We have traded the basics with them for so long, but your family is one of few that trades the pleasures of life. The makings for ale, coffee beans for those long winter days… These things keep them happy” he smirked “Unfortunately, it is a political matter to ensure relations with the Umari people. So, if you’re going to ask for their help – you need to trade something especially coveted. It is only respectful to do so. To ask of their shaman is… well.. let us say it has never been done… however, I need Kane healthy to keep the trade. You see? It is for everyone.”

“Oh…” Aria set the bag on the table, next to the list of goods.

“That is all I had to say… I wish you the best in your travels, Aria” He grasped his cloak and glanced to Kane. “And of course you as well, old friend” he pat the mans back.

Kane nodded “Until next time” he spoke through another cough and wave his hand as the Ranger found his way out.

“How… did he know? I mean, he had to have traveled across half the hills, to come here?” Aria seem slightly star stuck, she had never technically met Jorah. She seen him before, admired him afar. He was a legendary Ranger.

“Jorah and I have a history, dear. We fought in the wars in the same battalion, but after the war we went separate ways…” he smirked slightly, something he rarely spoke of – the wars.

“You fought alongside Jorah?!” Aria perked up with energy. “Why didn’t you ever say?” she questioned and stepped to the other side of the kitchen as she put some things away into a sack.

“Ah… a story for when you return, hm?” he always shied away from the wars. There was something there, Aria could tell. Some greater story. Her father was always respected, but she truthfully never knew exactly why. Jorah showing up at their home…

“Jorah isn’t really here to make great relations, was he?” Aria questioned with her arms cross, quick to jump to a conclusion.

“No” Kane chuckled hesitantly, afraid to cough again. “Jorah tried to get me to help him lead the Rangers, he is a good friend. No doubt word my illness traveled to him, so he stopped by to help. Despite me having really.. pissed him off in our younger days” he chuckled again. “I’ll tell you what… come back with the trade and we’ll drink some ale and I’ll tell you everything” A challenge, he knew how to drive his own daughter. Dangle a carrot over her head and the little mule would do anything.

“Fine – then I’m leaving now” she spoke with a grin and slung the sack over her shoulder. “Estel should be over soon to take care of you..”

“I don’t need – “

“Shut it you. You can hardly stand before the stove and cook yourself oats” she lifted the bag of ink and tucked it away. “I’ll be back” she leaned over and placed a kiss upon his sweaty forehead. She curled her nose slightly and wiped away the bit of sweat from her lips and then made for the door.

Before she closed it – she grasped her bow and quiver, which were hanging on the wall, and then the door shut. Sitting on the side of the house was a mule, which was prepared to a wagon. Boxes and sacks were stacked neatly, atop it was a small cover to protect it from any rain. She put her prepared food and the ink sack into an open crate and then closed it. She rearranged a bundle of arrows atop several furs, where she could easily get to. As she ventured north – it would get cold fast, and even likely snow.

For now she stood in leather pants with knee high ranger boots, chainmail under a light tunic, and a fuzzy ranger cloak. On her back was a gorgeous golden war-bow. It had sharpened ends and spikes in the front for any close combat, and a strong agile string for drawing. “Alright Little girl… you ready?” she walked upward to the thick and strong gray mule. She pulled an apple out and took a large bite and then offered it to the mule.

The friendly creature took the apple whole and chomped on it happily. “Alright Jess, we have a long journey to make. Just you and me this time..." she grasped the reign of the mule and lead her toward the path. She would not ride, no - she walked with her mule. They both would make the trek together. Besides, it did not make sense to move faster than her mule, and walking with Jess was a pleasant experience. Her father often took another mule and rode, but she always walked, insisting the journey was good for her health.

She did not need to hold onto the reign, the mule followed her willingly. She walked side by side of the creature, speaking out loud to her as if they were a friend who might reply. They made their way out of the village and soon onto the heavily travelled path.

These areas were patrolled by Rangers, kept safe for the traders. Though Aria took her two years in the Ranger Force seriously. She learned all she could, and even came home and continued. She built her own archery range, with even an odd course she built herself with hanging targets far and angled. Her father would train her, until at some point – he had nothing else to teach her. Though, while she believed she could protect herself, she knew there were creatures in the hills and forests that were growing ever more aggressive…

She stopped after a day and built a camp not far from the road. She gave her mule some time without the wagon to graze, and she even caught a rabbit to roast over a fire. After some sleep – she cleaned her camp up, as if it never was there, and resumed on the path. Another small stop to pull out her leathers as they grew closer to the mountains. The peaks were shadows above, outlines and distant thoughts, until soon they grew closer and closer. She could see the snow caps and jagged peaks, she knew she was getting closer to the trading outpost…

Soon she came to it – a relatively good size trading city. It was surrounded by wooden spiked walls. She came to the gates, which were guarded by highly-tattoo’d and dangerous looking Umari. “State your business”

“Arutar, Greenclove family with trade with Varketh” she stopped beside her mule.

The two guards looked to each other and nodded, their hands grasping the gates to open into the city. Snow fell over her hooded head and she lead her mule into the town. It was a cross roads in the middle. She followed the steps she remembered of her father. She would pay a few coins for her trades to be stored and protected, her mule fed and brushed. She made her way to the local tavern, or perhaps the only place to truthfully meet in the small village.

Her eyes looked around for Varketh. He was a large brute of a man, but he always had a delightful smile. They had been trading with him for several years now… She did not see him, so she took a seat at the tavern bar. The same man behind the bar recognized her – “Aria, where is your father, I do not see him?” he questioned as he poured an ale for her.

“Kane is unfortunately sick…I don’t see Varketh and the others, did something happen?” she questioned as she took the ale. She drank half it before the bartender could reply. There was nothing like Umari ale. Despite her supply of the reagents, the Arutar ale never kicked like Umari’s….

“I expected to see the trading crew by this morning, but there is a nasty blizzard coming through…” he shifted slightly.

“Oh, that is not good..” Aria glanced around the tavern – it was quite empty. Several Arutar traders sat and drank, they all awaited the trade as well, not many Umari in the mix. Usually they drank and ate together before trading and going about their way…

“I actually… have an offering for the Umari leader, on behalf of Arutar…” she pressed her lips together in a fine line. “Perhaps I can make my way up the mountain, maybe Varketh is hurt..” she bit her lip and slid from the stool. The bartender went to say something, but she had already left. She stepped out into the crunching snow. She glanced upward to see thick black clouds in the far distance that shrouded the mountain side…

After a visit to her wagon – which was stored in a large stable like building – several other wagons parked as well, other Arutar traders. She met up with one of her clans-men and paid them to watch over her things. She gathered several more leathers for herself, and then grasped the sack of ink… she tucked it away in a bag that she pulled over her back.

She stepped to the gates that lead to the mountains. “Please allow me passage to the mountains” She spoke to the guards, who lifted a brow.

“The Umari traders have not arrived, it is blizzarding up top… I am requesting to go up the mountain and check on them”

“A single girl – climbing the sacred mountains – in a blizzard, with all manners of beasts about…” the guard laughed and glanced to his partner.

“You’re right, I’ll probably die… so open the gate and let me through then” she crossed her arms, watching them for a long moment.

“Can’t do that little farm-girl. Go on back to your hillside” he laughed harder then.

Aria pulled her auburn brows together and she stepped forward. Before he could see her – she balled her fist and punched him in the throat. He grasped his throat and fought for a breath, which he eventually caught. She glanced to the other guard and tilted her head - then she simply opened the wooden gate and left.

She wasted no time and rushed up the mountain pass. As she climbed the winds began to howl and snow came blasting downward. Aria pulled another fur around her, covering everything but a small bit for her eyes to peer forward. With a hand infront of her she continued up the mountain.

The wind blew so hard at one point that she was thrown to the side. Her boots crumbled on some stone that gave away and she fought to grab ahold of something – before she was thrown down the side of the mountain. Her fingers pushed through a thick layer of snow and she grasped something – a sturdy rock. She wrapped her arms around it as she climbed back up. With a heaving breath – she made it back to the pass. By this time she was completely covered in snow, and the snow did not give up.

After a few hours of trenching through the knee deep snow – she spot something. A cavern – if she scaled the mountain. She would have to rock climb up to it - but it looked like safety from the shivering cold that wracked her bones. She wasted no time and climbed it with ease, the height did not frighten her. There was a thick layer of snow that nearly covered the entrance – but she dug through it under she came to the cavern’s entrance. She did not venture into the cavern, not knowing what creatures also bore inside, she stayed near the entrance…looking out to the angled snow.

Aria leaned against the cavern wall and dug through her pouch for her dried jerky and bread… Though – she heard something. A whispering. She stood – she couldn’t make out the words. She hesitantly stepped deeper into the cavern. Though to her surprise – there were a set of stone stairs that led downward… and then she kicked something. It rolled several times until it clanked and stopped… she knelt down and felt for it, she was surrounded by darkness. She grasped it and lifted it – wooden… a torch. She quickly dug into her pouch and pulled out two stones and sparked them together, until the torch’s head caught flame easily.

Aria knelt back slightly as the heat licked her, but it was a welcome warmth. She glanced behind her head and saw the opening of the cavern – still barely lit, but the snow piled once more. As she looked forward – she saw rails that led her forward. Her hand grazed over the rusted metal and she followed it. What was this place? Soon it seem to come to an end… before her was a large statue that barely fit in the room. It looked like it barely belonged. A statue in a dead end cave?

She peered to it – it was a huge beast that had it wings spread outward. It was almost like a combination of a dragon and eagle in one… The detail was gorgeous… She reached forward and touched the base of the statue. Fingers rolling over some runes, something she couldn’t make out. The voice grew louder – speaking now, strolling sentences of gibberish. She winced as the words clashed and then she shut her eyes. She felt something. The cold stopped being cold. The heat of the flame in her hand – paused. She opened her eyes and the statue was glowing bright.

Suddenly she was thrown backwards, a gust of power rushing into her chest. The torch was thrown to the wall and snuffed easily. She hit the ground, her head smacking hard – she saw nothing but darkness.

When her eyes opened – she saw the dark sky. The snow that plowed downward. She did not walk on the ground of the mountain, no – she flew. She dipped downward and glide with ease. It felt amazing – the wind around her. The snow did not make her cold, she twisted about and even spun in the sky with freedom. Her eye sight was like nothing else, she could zoom in and glance around – and with that she realized. She spun about in the sky and searched… until she spot him. The caravan was knocked over on its side, they had fallen down the mountain side. She dipped down and turned her head.

Her vision peered to the large wings that guide her, this dream suddenly felt real. She dipped down and with two giant talons – she gripped onto a body that did not move. Varketh. With a screeching sound – she called out to him, but no words came. Instead, she lifted him and flew back to the cavern.

What came to be was actually a giant creature stood with its wings folded inward, a monstrous creature, that she seemingly commanded. Varketh was dropped onto the entrance of the cavern… Suddenly – Aria’s opened once more. She was in her own body… She stood quickly, the cold hit her hard. She shivered and gripped her leathers and rushed for the cavern entrance. Though she stopped immediately – her breath caught in her lungs. The giant creature, which stood outside the cavern, coo’d at her presence. It did not attack – rather it lowered his head and peered to her.

Aria slowly approached and held her hand out… the creature stepped forward and pushed its smooth beak into her hand. She let out a small giggle and then cupped the creature’s beak and gave it a long rub. This creature was nothing she had seen or heard before, but it was beautiful – why did it listen to her? She drew back her hand and the beast lifted into the air, flying away with ease… What was happening?

Though she quickly turned to Varketh, who was laying on the ground – his body cold and pale. She quickly pulled her leathers off and covered him. “Varketh” she whispered and pat his cheeks… she could only wait for him to wake… and wonder of this creature that she… commanded?

Last Edit: Mar 20, 2022 13:03:41 GMT -5 by Raven

Blindside Tex
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A Lost World Mar 20, 2022 16:08:39 GMT -5

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Post by Blindside Tex on Mar 20, 2022 16:08:39 GMT -5

Hours ago…

“This storm is getting strong, Varketh. Maybe we should turn back. We cannot see ahead of us.” A young warrior called out over the howling winds as he pulled along the cart down the mountainside.

“It is the last trade of the season. I need the barley and hops to make that ale you enjoy so much.” He pat the young warrior on the shoulder. “I’ll guide you down, Kirl.” He chuckled as he continued down the path as the snow thickened. Many of the Umari traders had opted to wait out the storm in the warmth of their homes. But Varketh only had enough barley and hops for one more batch of ale. He couldn’t miss this trade with the Arutar farmer Kane.

It was just the two of them that made this trek. Under normal circumstances this wouldn’t have been much trouble. But with the storm it became more of a proving moment for Kirl and Varketh. As they descended down the path a deep growl could be heard above the winds as they whipped at he faces of the two Umari. “Varketh!” Kirl called out after he heard the sound.

A huge grizzly lunged forward from the hillside. Varketh swiftly moved before the young warrior to block him with his spear. It was a battle to end all battles. The grizzly had power, but the Umari had their masterful use of their weapons. Kirl released the cart and swung forward with an axe as he pulled his shield from his back. He let out a cry as the grizzly sliced across his chest. His blood was bright as it splattered against the white snow. He let out a cry as he made another attempt. The bear snarled and swiped at the two warriors as they attacked it. The spear of Varketh punctured into the side of the beast which caused it to rear up. As it slammed it’s heavy paws upon the path the ground beneath it shook. The cart began to slide over the edge. “The cart!” Varketh called over the storm. He grasped at the handle and as the two warriors tried to stop the car they were pulled over the edge.

The grizzly roared from its post as blood gushed from the deep wound that Varketh had made. Soon enough it would bleed out. The two tumbled down the hillside. Kirl tried to straighten himself. He rolled and smacked harshly against the trunk of a tree. He gasped as he hugged onto the thick bark, his eyes blinked several times as he peered down the mountainside as Varketh and the cart continued downward. The young warrior groaned as he looked up the hillside toward where they had fought the bear. He turned just as the huge body of the bear toppled over the edge. It rolled passed him through the thick of the snow. Kirl gasped as he grit his teeth. His eyes tracked up the side of the mountain. It wouldn’t be easy to climb.

**

Ezara sipped upon a special tea, one that only the Shaman was allowed to drink. It allowed for visions of the past, present, and future. She tossed a few more herbs over her fire as she began to chant to the gods as Cika had taught her. Cika had always said that Ezara was one of the most gifted Shamans she had met. She attributed it to her being born from the gods. Ezara was never certain of how to take the story of her birth. How did she just appear from the temple? There had to be another explanation that no one wished to speak upon.

She allowed the last drops of the milky tea to wash over her tongue as she set the mug down before her crossed legs. Ezara closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath as the dizziness took over her. Her breathing that was once slow and even quickened in pace and shuddered slightly. She gripped onto her knees as she was whisked away.

Ezara stood within the snow. Her jade hues had a glow to them as she gazed about the trail. She pressed her lips together as she heard the calls in the far distance. Her brows tugged together as she made her way through the thick snow with ease. Soon the snow began stained with blood. Her breath shuddered as she lowered herself to the blood and her hand touched it.

The scene played out before her eyes as she remained knelt. Her heart began to pound within her chest as she watched the two Umari warriors take on the behemoth of a bear. When the two went over the edge she stood swiftly. She gazed down the jagged mountainside. Her lips parted then as she heard a sound from the air. Her eyes lifted and she watched as a huge winged bird swooped down. The screech of the huge bird caused Ezara to stand on the edge of the cliff. She watched as it lifted Varketh, the well known brewer and supplier of ale, and it flew off with him toward a higher perch in the mountainside. She turned and took off in a sprint toward the direction that the huge beast had carried the man.

“Ezara.” A voice broke her vision.

The Shaman’s eyes were rolled back into her head, her breathing was uneven. But as the voice spoke suddenly her jade hues fell upon a familiar face. Her father Rhav. She sucked in a breath. “It’s dangerous to break a Shaman’s trance.” She spoke though she had a smile upon her lips.

Her father gave a weak smile to her. “I believed that this might need your attention.” He pulled back the thick leather flap that was the door for her hut. A man helped carry in Kirl then and set him down upon a cot. “He was delivering goods for---...”

“Varketh.” Ezara slowly stood, “He fought a great grizzly...and they fell down the side of the mountain.” Her voice was smooth as she knelt next to the cot. The young warrior had ragged breathing, his skin was cold.

“He was mumbling something about a grizzly...and a bird...” Rhav spoke as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Was it in your vision?” He questioned.

Ezara lifted her jade hues from Kirl and gave a gentle nod. “It was. Varketh, he is in trouble.” She spoke as she stood and gathered different bottles of herbs. She poured them into a bowl and added a touch of water before she mashed it into a salve. She pulled away his leathers and furs to expose the wound.

“Varketh...” He grasped her hand as blood bubbled from his lips. “Help...him...Shaman...” He pleaded as he fought to move. “He...needs...”

Ezara placed her hand over his forehead and gently pushed him to lie down. “Shhh.” She soothed, “I know, Kirl. I know.” She spoke as she looked over the deep gash. She could see to his ribs, part of his intestines were coming from the wound. She bit her lip slightly. Even with her magic, she was uncertain if she could fix this young warrior. “Breathe.” She spoke as she began to place the salve over the wound. She pressed it into his side.

Rhav stood with his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes watched his daughter as she worked. Her hands quickly became covered in the blood of the young warrior. He watched as the glow came from her hands and as she whispered prayers to the gods. He watched as the wounds miraculously healed before his eyes, the skin mending...the broken ribs snapped back into place. He reached forward as Ezara fell back slightly. “Ezara.” He gripped under her arms and pulled her to the back of the hut to her bed where he placed her gently. “Ezara can you hear me?” He asked as he watched her eyes flutter and her head lull from side to side in her sleep.

**

Ezara stood within the storm once again. She rushed through the storm and found footsteps that led to a cliff. She touched the cliff face and gazed upward. She quickly scaled the side of the mountain, she grit her teeth as she did so. As she came to the top of the cliff she peered in on the huge beast of a bird. Her jade hues saw something that she did not expect. An Arutar warrior sat before the huge bird and her Umari tribesman lay upon the cold ground of the cave. Varketh. She heard the woman’s voice.[/i]

**

“Ezara? Can you hear me?” Rhav questioned as he carefully shook his daughter.

Ezara groaned as she was ripped from the vision once again by her father’s voice. Her jade hues glowed slightly as she sat up and sucked in a swift breath. “Varketh is in trouble.” She nearly leaped from her bed to her feet. She grasped her cloak and then she gripped onto her spear.

“Ezara what are you doing?” Rhav stepped in front of her door that led to the rounded healing room that she worked in day in and day out.

Ezara stepped to the side, Rhav matched her step. She stepped the other direction and then frowned up to him. “I know where he is.” She spoke as her frosty brows pulled together.

“Rok will not let you leave the village. You know this.” Rhav spoke. “It’s dangerous outside of the village, Ezara.” He grasped her shoulders. “Varketh can handle his own. He is a strong warrior.” He assured her.

Ezara pressed her lips together and sighed softly. “He is hurt. I am going. I’m tired of being locked up here in this hut. Watch over Kiel.” She snapped before she shoved around her father.

“Ezara!” He called after her but she’d already pushed through the flap of the hut. He rushed forward to see that Ezara was no where in sight.

**

Ezara slipped passed the guards with ease and she took off down the mountain trail. She ran swiftly as the wind shoved against her. She lost her footing a few times, but she regained her balance. The shaman skidded to a stop where the snow was stained red. Her eyes gazed about, she closed her eyes a moment to remember the vision. Her breathing slowed as she focused in on it. Then her jade hues opened and she sprinted forward once more. Ezara found the cliff face and she scaled up it, just as she had in her vision. She pushed herself up over the top of the cliff. Her hues gazed to the huge beast as she gripped onto her staff. “I don’t know how you got passed the trading post...” She spoke her eyes flicked back and forth between the Arutar girl and the huge beast. She was ready to attack at any moment. Her eyes looked to Varketh then as her brows tugged together. “Are you controlling that beast?” She questioned as she stared to the bird once again. The Shaman turned her hues as the wind whipped against the cavern and howled. She pressed her lips together. “I need to help him. He’s injured.” She pulled a pouch of herbs from her hip. “Are you injured?” She questioned, her eyes continuously went to the bird. A bit of fear showed from the Umari at the presence of the large creature.

Raven
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A Lost World Mar 20, 2022 16:53:08 GMT -5

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Post by Raven on Mar 20, 2022 16:53:08 GMT -5

As Varketh lay there – she glanced up to the giant beast. She grit her teeth slightly as she glanced down – red thick liquid was pooling around his abdomen. She pulled at the leathers and exposed his heavily tattoo’d skin. “Shit” she muttered, there was a good gash in his skin. She pressed her hands upon his wound and leaned her body weight into him, in an attempt to stop his bleeding.

Just as she did – the large beast craned its neck. Exposing crimson red like thick feathers, its shining white beak craning to see their guest. It gave a slight shriek of sound – as if to tell this person to leave. Its wings spread outward and flapped several times, showing off the huge breadth of its huge leathery wings. It had spiked tips and when spread outward – was quite a sight.

A woman appeared to have scaled the mountain side, something she did not expect. Though as Aria looked up, blood smeared on her cheek and hands pushing against Varketh’s wound, she couldn’t draw her bow – which was upon her back. Instead the large dragon like beast placed both wings on the ground and arched its back, ready to attack.

Are you controlling that bird?

Aria raised a brow “I – I don’t know” she replied and then glanced down to Varketh. “He has a bad wound, I can’t get it to stop bleeding” she spoke as the blood leaked around her palms. “He’s not going to make it” she spoke through grit teeth. As the woman came over, she shifted so that the white haired mystery could take over.

She watched as the woman moved with precision – she knew exactly what she was doing. Aria moved the leathers and prepared to wrap him up as she finished. His wound was… completely gone. Aria’s mouth dropped and she glanced to the woman. “You’re the White Haired Shaman… the…” her auburn brows pulled together. “The one of the Gods?” she questioned slightly.

As she finished – the clouds just grew darker. The snow was piling in now, soon they wouldn’t be able to leave. Aria stood, pulling her cloak closely, she approached the creature. She felt a tug in her chest as she got closer to it. “You’re not here to harm me…” she spoke aloud to the creature. “Are you here to help me?” she questioned, pausing briefly “Well…can you even understand me?”

The creature sat upward, its wings folding once more. It crouched down so that it sat in the cave just slightly, barely able to fit. Slowly the beak of the creature nodding up and down – yes. Aria smirked, a slight chuckle coming from her chest. “Can you…communicate?” she questioned softly.

She felt a warm feeling in her chest… her fingers pressed against her own collarbone in reaction. The creature tilted its head. The warmth pulsed slightly. “I guess that it is it then…” she turned back to the shaman. “In the back of this cave is a statue – that looks just like… this creature” she turned her gaze to the bird. “To Flurie” she smirked, naming the creature then. The bird seem to tilt its head again, the warmth pulsing again. “I entered this cave to escape the blizzard… I heard a whispering… touched the statue and next thing I knew… I could see into the skies like Flurie can. I guided her down the mountain until she found Varketh and brought him back… and then mysteriously you show up” the wind howled now.

“We need to get out of here…” she glanced to Flurie and without even saying a word the beast began to shift. It turned around and laid down on the ground, allowing them to mount upon the back of the beast. There was a perfect spot between the beasts giant shoulder blades to nestle in. “Its probably a bad idea, but…” she mounted to sit on the back of the creature. “Climb on, Flurie can grab Varketh for us…” the thick waves of snow came like sheets.

“Otherwise – we’ll die in here.” They had nothing to keep them warm, they would freeze in no time. Already her fingers were numb, her entire being was so cold. Her leathers were stiff from the snow that had gathered upon her previously. Once the shaman climbed on behind her – Flurie stood upon its two great legs. With a simple swoop – Flurie picked up Varketh with its large claws and lifted into the air.

It was a rocky start – the body of the creature swinging side to side by the force of the wind. Aria leaned down, gripping a near by spike with a strong hand. Her head tucked down to try and avoid the pelting of snow upon her.

The creature flapped its wings harder – picking up speed, no longer faltering by the passing winds. It flew up the scape of the mountain until it came upon a large city nestled in a strong peak. They flew over the city and found a opening in the middle. Flurie hovered for a moment and gently placed Varketh down on a fresh pile of snow, and then it landed with ease, leaning down for the two to jump off. Aria shivered, her muscles convulsing as they fought to keep warm. She slipped from the beast and then – suddenly It disappeared. The beast turned into a red orb of color, that then shot forward and absorbed into Aria’s chest.

Aria stumbled slightly and gathered herself. Her eyes took in the amazing city nestled in the mountains. None of her people had seen such a thing. She turned and looked to the crowd that had gathered – weapons pulled… “Shit…” she muttered.

Blindside Tex
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A Lost World Mar 20, 2022 18:43:50 GMT -5

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Post by Blindside Tex on Mar 20, 2022 18:43:50 GMT -5

“You don’t know?” Ezara questions with her brows raised as the creature looked as though it wanted to attack. Though her attention was brought back to the brewer. She pressed her lips together as she watched the blood leak from his wound. “He will make it.” Ezara spoke as she looked to her. “Just let me look at him.” She shifted forward carefully as she pulled her pouch.

Ezara glanced to the creature a few times, her heart was pounding within her chest. Though most of her attention was on tending to the wound. She pulled back the leathers to expose his skin. Her eyes looked over the deep gashes and she winced slightly. It must have happened in the fall. Or when the bird picked him up. She glanced to the dragon like creature again. She drew in a breath as she pasted his wound with the salve. It was a risk to heal him in front of a stranger. Much less a stranger that was not from her tribe. The words of Rok filled her mind. She would become a prisoner to an outsider if she wasn’t careful. That is why he kept her in the Umari village. Ezara closed her eyes as she began to pray to the gods as she always did. Her words were soft and the gentle glow came from her hands.

The Shaman drew in deep breaths as she healed the deep puncture wound of Varketh. When she took her hands away she heard the words of the woman. Her lips pressed together as she gazed to her with her bright jade hues. “I am the Umari Shaman...yes...” She spoke she didn’t like being worshiped as a gift of the gods. It was something that she’d always fought against, one way or another. She just didn’t understand why her. Why would she be of the Gods? She rubbed the blood of Varketh onto the leathers of his shoulder as she drew in a breath. She gazed to the opening and the worsening storm. A sigh escaped her as she seemed to realize the situation that she’d placed herself in.

Ezara furrowed her brows as the young Arutar woman began to speak to the creature. Her lips parted slightly as she saw the bird nod...as if it understood conversation. She slowly stood and glanced to the back of the cave. To the old world structures that led deep within the crust. It was a temple that had not been discovered yet by the Umari. Somehow. The Shaman turned her attention back to the woman as she began to speak. “A relic of the old world?” She questioned curiously. She then listened as the farmer gave the bird a name, Flurie. Ezara tilted her head slightly. “You heard whispering...” She slipped her spear to her back and crossed her arms over her chest. When she’d entered deep within the temple of offerings she too heard something. At least she thought she did. On the day that she was gifted her healing abilities.

The Umari drew in a breath as she watched the woman. “I am only here because I saw myself climb that very cliff in a vision.” She spoke as she took a step forward slightly. “I saw Varketh and I knew that he was in need of help. If I would have been even a few minutes later...” She glanced to the sleeping man. “He would have most certainly died...” She glanced to the creature. “How...are you controlling her…?” She wondered out loud. Of all the people within her tribe, Ezara was the most curious. She’d spent the most hours within the old world structures within the Northern Tress Mountains.

Ezara looked back to the trader curiously. “I don’t know how you plan to get back out of here. The storm is worse than….” She stopped speaking as the bird lay down to allow them upon its back. “That...is...most definitely a bad idea...” She seemed to weigh over their situation. The Shaman looked about the cave. She was already shivering from the cold. Ice had formed in her white hair from her journey down from the village. “Okay...” She breathed as she climbed upon the back of the beast. Ezara wrapped her arms around the Arutar and as the beast took flight she squeezed her eyes shut as her grip tightened around the woman. “This was a horrible idea!” She exclaimed, fear in her voice as they were knocked about by the winds of the storm.

As they flew through the skies and the flight evened out Ezara eventually opened her eyes as they flew over the village. She watched as they swooped down and the beast easily set down Varketh. She quickly jumped from the back of the bird and then spun as it disappeared. Her eyes widened slightly as she watched the red orb of energy meld into the chest of the Arutar.

“Ezara.” A voice came from the group that surrounded the three. Rok. “I’ve been looking for you for nearly three hours!” He exclaimed as he grit his teeth. His eyes then fell upon the stranger. “An Arutar? Here?” He questioned surprise in his voice. A laugh came from him then. “Did you get yourself lost little farmer?” He laughed heartily.

“She saved Varketh.” Ezara spoke up. Her jaw was tight as she stood tall. Her jade hues looked to the leader of her tribe. “Without her, he would have died.”

“Without you he would have died.” Rok spoke as he stood directly before Ezara. He stared down to her small frame. He was intimidating. Everything about him screamed Umari warrior. “Take her.” He pointed to the Arutar. “Find out what she wants. Then kill her.” He ordered plainly.

“Stop.” Ezara shifted and stood in front of the woman, the stranger. She swallowed as Rok stepped before her again, towering over her. “I’ll house her. She has injuries that need tending to. She’s just a farmer, Rok. What harm could she be?” She spoke, her voice didn’t quiver. She was strong and exuded confidence. “Besides, our people have had a pact with hers for 25 years now. Do you think they would throw that away? We need their trade just as much as they need ours.”

Rok narrowed his eyes as he stared to the Shaman. He tilted his head slightly as he lifted a hand and nudged Ezara aside with ease. He stepped up to the Arutar and stared to her. “If you cause any disruption. I will kill you myself.” He spoke, his voice dark. “I will honor your request Shaman.” He looked to Ezara. “Only because you’ve saved Kirl and Varketh.” He turned then and stepped away through the crowd of Umari that looked to the group.

Ezara let out a breath as everyone disbursed. She watched as two of the men carried Varketh away to his home. A shiver shuddered through her body and she wrapped her arms around herself slightly. “Come. Let us get some soup and tea.” She spoke as she offered a soft smile to the farmer. Aria was lucky to have met Ezara the way she did. The Shaman could protect her from her people. If Aria had managed to make it to the village without saving Varketh and without the shield of the Shaman. It very well could have been her last breath.

Ezara led the woman through the city. Buildings were crafted expertly from the tall pines of the area. Fires burned within the buildings. Singing could be heard from one of the buildings – the tavern. Ezara glanced to the woman as she stepped inside the tavern and she stepped up to the bar. An Umari man looked to her and smiled. Though his eyes settled in on the stranger. “Who’s this?” He questioned quickly.

“An Arutar villager, she saved Varketh. I’m giving her food and shelter through the storm.” She spoke and nodded to him. “Two bowls.” She didn’t pay. The Shaman didn’t need to pay. She worked when they called upon her. It was endless work. The man behind the counter grumbled something as he moved about. Soon he placed two wooden bowls of thick stew upon the counter. “Thank you.” Ezara spoke before she turned and handed the bowl to the woman. She then led her from the tavern back into the cold. “It’s just up the hill.” She called over the winds as they climbed a set of stairs up the mountainside. As they came to the crest of the stairs her hut was visible. Smoke puffed out of the top of it. She pushed the heavy leather flap aside and nodded to the Arutar woman to enter. She then followed her inside.

“Ezara! Thank the Gods you’re alright.” Rhav stepped forward just as she set her bowl down. He wrapped his arms around her tightly and even lifted her off the ground.

“Rok is going to have my head. Did you tell him I left?” She questioned as she stared up to him.

“I...” He looked away and his eyes found the Arutar woman. “Did….” He stared to her a long moment. “When Kirl woke, he wanted to know where you were. Then Rok came and asked questions...I had to tell him.” He sucked in a breath. “You’re lucky to be alive. That was suicidal to go out into the storm like that.” He spoke, his fatherly tone taking over.

“Well. I’m alright.” She spoke and stepped away to her wall of herbs. “I have work to do, father. I need to heal some wounds of our friend here. She saved Varketh.” She spoke nonchalantly as she grabbed several different leaves and spices.

Rhav drew in a breath as he watched her. She wasn’t a little girl anymore. He knew that. But he didn’t want to lose her. Not like he’d lost Skya. He glanced to Aria a moment before he nodded. “Well, get some rest. The offering is tomorrow.” He spoke before he slipped from the hut.

Ezara was silent as she put a pot of water over the fire. The room that they had entered into was round and held four different cots for the injured to lay upon. It held a desk that she had many different bottles upon filled with herbs and other various substances. There was a small table that sat by a window that overlooked the entire city. The glow of the torches below was beautiful within the storm. Ezara poured two mugs of tea and she held one forward. “Come, sit.” She spoke as she stepped to the table and found a place to sit. “Get something warm in your belly, hm?” Ezara wasn’t as rough as most of the Umari. Perhaps it was her healing nature as Shaman.

The Shaman ate her bowl of soup and then she stared to the fiery haired woman a long moment. “So...you never saw this bird before you entered the temple?” She questioned curiously after a long moment of silence. She had a soft smile upon her lips as she set her wooden bowl down and she lifted her mug of tea. She sipped from it. “It sounds like you’ve found a secret of the ancients…I believe there is much that we do not know of those that were here before us.” She searched the woman’s eyes. “But the temples are forbidden. Especially for an Arutar. If I tell my Tribal leader that you entered one of our temples. He will kill you. There will not be a second thought of it.” She warned and then pressed her lips together slightly. Ezara seemed to think it over. “What made you come up the mountain passed the trading city?” She asked then before she took another sip of her tea.

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A Lost World Mar 20, 2022 22:24:01 GMT -5

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Post by Raven on Mar 20, 2022 22:24:01 GMT -5

Aria grit her teeth as she was surrounded, to the man who approached her. Cursing her for being Arutar… it made her blood boil. Their greater-than attitude drove her jaw to tightness. Though it was then that the snow-haired Shaman spoke up. Defending her even, to the point of even embarrassment, no doubt this man – their leader? Would hold that against her. It was dangerous and foolish to come up here, but her partner, no…her friend – was in need. She only hoped she would see her way out of this, and it would be worth it…

She was quickly ushered to follow the shaman… she felt the heavy stares of the painted people upon her. Their fierce eyebrows and bulky figures – ready to pounce like a lion upon a fresh carcass. She hid head gaze downward as she fell in tow, quickly entering a Tavern. A place that seemed familiar at least, she spent many nights in the outpost tavern across the years. She sucked in a breath and awaited their order, which came with a groan from the man… they didn’t seem too…cheerful here.

The home of the shaman was like no other around. It was decorated and seem to have a history… the round room of where the ill would rest. Was she the only one like this, their only mender? She sat down quietly on one chair and brought the spoon to her lips. The soup was warm – a refreshing thing to have. Though after a sip – she nearly choked as a man came….

They seem to speak of the man – their leader, Rok. She noted his name in her head. This man – with his caring face, a sort of forward but soft voice. She could tell this was her father, of sorts, he cared for much like Kane did of herself. Then she spoke his name – she was right. She shoo’d him away, which made her smirk. Fiercely independent, to a flaw it seemed, against the wishes of others, despite what a vital role she seemed to play in this city…

Aria felt like a fly on the wall and she released a content sigh when he left the room. It was quite awkward, and no doubt she was the thorn in everyone’s side now. Aria moved to the table and sat down across the woman, she accept the tea and sat back in her seat. “I um… I never actually got your name.. I am Aria Greenclove” she lifted the tea up and took a sip.

“Thank you… for coming, I suppose. I don’t know that Varketh would have made it… and who knows what would have become of me… I don’t think I expected your people to be so…” she couldn’t find the word. She stifled her thought with a sip of soup and cleared her throat.

“The bird.. no. I’ve never seen it, or anything like it, or a statue like that before…” she shook her head. “I’ve spent my whole life… planting seeds and sowing fields, shooting a bow on the side to give me something else to think about…I’ve never seen anything like it” she spooned the bottom of the soup to gather chunks of meat from the depths of the soup.

“I don’t know that… that was a traditional temple, or ruin. Not like I’ve heard from the stories and tales. It was just a simple room with a statue, like it didn’t… belong there. Hidden there, maybe? The statue moved there…” she leaned her chin on her hand as she popped it up in thought.

As the next question came – Aria leaned back and dug through her bag. “A few things…” she pulled out the small leather pouch and set it down. “Firstly… I would have waited in the Trading Post – but I had this… gut feeling that something was wrong. My father and I have been trading with Varketh for a few years now, he’s become a good friend of mine. Someone I would look forward to talking to when we would travel here. He would… tell me about your people, the things you do for fun, the last great kill he did. I admire him…” she peered over to the bed, where he was placed.

“So, I rushed on to find him…” Then she pushed the sack forward. “I also… was hoping to actually – talk to you” she raised a brow. “Jonah Arrowbane, our leader… gave me this to offer in request for your help. My father is quite sick, for a few weeks now. A sickening fever, coughing up globs of…” she snarled her nose as she thought of it. “He hasn’t gotten any better, just worse. I was… going to ask for your help… if nothing else, offer it in peace if there was nothing to be done… my father’s fate… well…” she pressed her lips together. “Death is at the door knocking…” she sighed softly. “So, desperate measures call for desperate actions…” she finished her soup.

“And somehow…” she touched her chest, she could feel the warmth of the creature. “I don’t know.. what is happening, Flurie…” she pulled her brows together. “What does it all mean?” she questioned “Surely you know something, Great Shaman….”

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A Lost World Mar 21, 2022 4:54:56 GMT -5

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Post by Blindside Tex on Mar 21, 2022 4:54:56 GMT -5

The Shaman would glance to the stranger every now and again as they traveled through the Umari village. But she seemed to expect the looks and the glares that they received from her fellow tribesman. As she finally came to sit at the table with the woman she lifted her jade hues to look to her as she introduced herself. A bit of a forced smile curved up her lips. Ah, yes, she’d invited someone that she didn’t even have proper introductions with into her home. She’d argued with Rok to save this woman’s life without truly knowing her reasoning for climbing the mountain passed the trade post. “There was not much time for introductions.” She spoke as she took a sip from her tea. “I am Shaman Ezara, though I am certain that you’ve already gathered that information.”

Ezara listened to the woman’s words and a bit of a smile curved up her lips. “Aggressive? Unwelcoming?” She spoke two words that fit the Umari quite well. “Untrusting might be a strong word to use as well.” She didn’t shy away from it. She knew how her people were to outsiders. She had watched as she grew what happened to those that ventured into Umari territory as she grew up. Even those that merely sought to explore the Northern Tress Mountains. They were killed, shortly after they were tortured to ensure that all information was gained from them.

As the woman began to speak about the bird Ezara leaned forward slightly, listening intently. She watched as the woman ate her meal, as she seemed to search for the words to put together what happened. There were no true words for it. Just as there were no true words for the craft that Ezara wielded. It was a miracle. Or magic. Some liked to call it magic. A gift even of the Gods. Ezara hated that coin. She prayed to the Gods day in and day out and she did not hear a single word in return. Perhaps it was because she was a Shaman. Or it was her gift. Perhaps the Gods believes they had given her enough in her lifetime. She tilted her head slightly as the woman spoke of the statue. It didn’t belong? Her brows twitched slightly and then furrowed together as she listened intently.

“I will have to visit this temple and look at it one day.” Ezara spoke and then sipped from her tea once again. “I cannot tell you if the temple is strange or different. But I have been in more than one of our temples here in the Northern Tress.” She spoke and then drew in a breath as the woman leaned back. Was she as untrusting as her tribesmen? It was possible. The Shaman looked to the leather pouch that was set down upon the table before her. Trade? Once again her brows tugged together and formed a crease upon her forehead. Her jade hues returned to the woman as she spoke of her gut feelings. “Varketh isn’t late for anything.” She spoke and gave a nod. “You were right to be worried.” She assured Aria. A bit of a smile curved up her lips then as the woman spoke of how she admired Varketh. It was strange to hear those words from a farmer. There was more to this woman than the Shaman realized.

Then the words came from Aria’s lips, she’d hoped to speak to the Shaman. The small smile that graced Ezara’s lips faded away and she pressed her lips into a line. The woman spoke of her ill father. She finished off her tea and looked away slightly to Varketh whom rested and Kirl whom lay upon another of the cots. She returned her gaze to the woman, she could see how the illness that plagued her father pained her. She sucked in a breath, “It certainly sounds as though death has come for your father. I am sorry for this.” She bowed her head slightly.

The woman asked for her guidance then. Ezara drew in a breath. She watched Aria a long moment. “I believe there is more at play than many of us understand. I have seen great feats of the past and the future through the use of special teas that only the Shaman are allowed to drink. I hold a great deal of the stress of my people. I am more than just a simple healer to them. Just as you have come to me and you expect me to have all of the answers. I do not.” The Shaman shifted and grasped the empty bowls. She carried them over to a small table that sat by the door that led to the howling winds outside. She turned and came to sit with Aria once again. “This.” She lifted the small sack and gave a weak smile. “You will have to speak with Rok, our tribal leader. I...” She drew in a breath and looked away slightly. “I can not make such decisions.” She spoke the words after a long moment. “I intend to get you answers on what has happened to you...I can assure you of that...but it may take time. In time we will understand what this all means, Aria.” The Shaman spoke with a gentle voice. She didn’t have answers like many expected her to. She would find them. Though visions or through research, she would find the answers to most things that people came to her with.

Ezara gazed to the pouch upon the table and then she lifted her jade hues back to the woman. "Well, you came to request my help." She spoke then pressed her lips together as she seemed to think over this decision. Rok was already angry with her. She was poking the bear at this point. But what did it matter? She gave a smile then, "Don't worry, I'll protect you from him." A slight chuckle came from the Shaman as she stood. "Come along. The day isn't old as of yet. We have time to speak to him." She lifted the pouch and bounced it about within her palm. Ezara then looked to the two wounded warriors a moment. She stepped to them and knelt next to them. She spoke a few words of prayer. Then she tossed a few herbs into the fire at the center of the hut. She nodded before she stepped to the door and exited into the storm once again. The Shaman held an arm up to block her face from the cold. She squinted her eyes and stumbled slightly to the blowing winds. This storm was most definitely the marker of the beginning of winter. They seemed to get worse with each passing year. She led her down the stairs and back into the village where she wound through the streets. Most were inside enjoying ale and stories of the short summer thet they enjoyed.

They came to a long building that held a high peak. It had statues of wolves that were expertly carved and placed on either side of the structure. Ezara pushed the heavy wooden door open and glanced to Aria, she gave a nod to her before they walked inside. There were many of the tribesmen within this building. A few stopped and looked to their Shaman, some bowed their head to honor her. Others stared passed her to the stranger. Ezara walked right up the center of the building and stopped before a set of short stairs that led up to a wooden chair that held many pelts upon it. Rok sat upon the chair, a leg over one of the arms, an ale in hand. He brought his icy hues to Ezara as she approached. "Come to give me the farmer? Is she too much trouble for you, Shaman?" He questioned as he stood. A bit of his ale sloshed from his mug.

"She's been no trouble at all, Rok." Ezara spoke, her voice strong. She could feel the eyes upon her from the other tribal members now as she spoke to their clan leader. "Our Arutar has come with a request that has much gravity. She even brought an offering to give to you for such a request." She spoke as she turned her hues to Aria.

Rok finished off his ale and slammed it down on his chair. He walked down the stairs to the two women. He once again nudged Ezara aside. The Shaman glanced to Aria with her jade hues as she clenched her jaw slightly. Rok stared down to Aria, he had a bit of a wicked smile upon his lips at this point. "You come into my city and wish to ask me for something?" He laughed as he watched her a moment. "Well go on farmer. What is it? We've no seeds for you to plant." He laughed, others laughed as well. Ezara merely stood her ground, her eyes stared to Rok as if she were going to attack him at any moment. The woman's muscles were tense as she balled up a fist slightly.

Last Edit: Mar 21, 2022 18:32:57 GMT -5 by Blindside Tex

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A Lost World Mar 21, 2022 21:18:46 GMT -5

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Post by Raven on Mar 21, 2022 21:18:46 GMT -5

Aria smirked to the woman as she finished her sentence, they were understatements at best. She couldn’t imagine such seclusion, and what deranged thoughts of outsides that came to them. How could they trust anyone after having not for so long, was it a cycle that could even be broken? Though their conversation continued and she watched the smile fade from the Shaman’s lips. She felt a pit in her stomach – had she said something she shouldn’t have? The constant fear of being killed by the slightest breath kept her heart beating wildly.

She felt a warmth in her chest then – she sat back in her chair and placed a hand upon her chest. The stirring of feeling soothed her….. Flurie. She took in a deep breath and let it go slowly. She pressed her lips together – Ezara couldn’t take action without the approval of her leader? She pulled her brows together, she wanted to question it and argue. It was obvious this Shaman had tremendous power, but it was all in servitude. “I see” she spoke softly, she had to show respect. Their culture was not her own… and this was not her home, either.

“Don’t worry?” Aria smirked and sighed softly “I haven’t stopped since I left my huttle” of course, the word huttle was only of her kind. It was the word for their homes in the ground, unique to only the Arutar clan. “Thank you, Ezara. I suppose… I wouldn’t have a shot at all without your guidance” she stood and glanced to the two sleeping wounded. She was quiet as the Shaman tended to them, a prayer for their health, herbs for… well she didn’t know. It was interesting to watch, and almost beautiful. There was a way this woman moved and presented herself that made her feel in awe. The Shaman was easily the most powerful person she had seen before, and it made her slightly intimidated.

Aria pulled her leather cloak close to her as they stepped outside. The roaring of the winds were loud and the snow caked on swiftly. They quickly rushed across the village center and to the large gathering hall. The structure was profoundly beautiful. It had a sort of eerie darkness that resembled their own strength. It was not decorated for beauty, it was decorated for war. Dark colors, swift edges, weapons and shields all about… The wolves staring to her – though just statues – made her stomach churn with fear as she entered the room.

There was a large brazier in the middle of this gathering hall, which upon entering – she was flooded with welcomed warmth. She watched this man stand – his forceful jab to the Shaman. She tried to read him – but she couldn’t. This sort of attitude was nothing she had really seen before. Bullies, sure, but… She pressed her lips together and she stepped forward. One more step closer to him than she had him. Her eyes were a crystal blue color, a ring of gray on the outside – they were striking, in combination with her red hair. She had a soft look, but one with a piercing gaze.

“I had come originally with an offering from Jorah.” She held the bag out so that he could see. She slowly opened the top of it to expose the glimmering dark dust. “Inkroot” she lifted a gaze. Before the leader could snag it, or anything, she closed it and brought it back to her chest. “I know that the ink for your legendary tattoo’s have been running short. This is the last that we have. A horrible plague has hit the eastern coast, the only place this can grow. Their crops dwindle and die from The Red Vine. Some invasive species that chokes out the farms…” she stepped back then and glanced to the people around them. “Varketh has told me before… about your Tattoo’s. Their meaning… it is more than just pigment on flesh. It is honor, it is pride, it is the lifeline of you, and the people before you, and your future…” she turned then and looked to Ezara.

She then handed her the pouch and bowed her head slightly. “Ezara, I gift to you my offering.” She looked back to her then with her brows pulled together. “My father will not survive his illness, I knew this when I left. Even if you procured a miracle. I saw him when I was leaving. The Reaper who Sow’s lives… Death comes just as life.” She stepped back then. “It is yours to offer to Rok, and yours alone. You – have earned this offering.” She turned back towards Rok. “I have done what I wished to do. Varketh is alive, he is the only reason why I came to the mountains. I ask for safe passage home now.” She spoke and looked to Rok…

Blindside Tex
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A Lost World Mar 21, 2022 22:10:06 GMT -5

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Post by Blindside Tex on Mar 21, 2022 22:10:06 GMT -5

“Huttle.” Ezara had repeated the word, a smile tugged at the edges of her lips as she spoke the strange word. “You’ll have to tell me more of this later.” She commented as they had left the warmth of her hut. As the Shaman stood, pushed aside by Rok, she shifted slightly. Her hues caught Rhav as he stepped forward slightly. He wanted to protect his little girl. He always had. Cika had protected her as well. Rok hadn’t been quite so aggressive with her until after Cika passed. She was no longer protected by the old Shaman. Now Ezara had to forge her own path. She had to bite back against the tribal leader and show her clan the way as Cika did.

Rok had a smirk upon his lips as Aria stepped forward. It was a challenge to him. He stared down to her, closer than many would dare push toward the tribe leader. A few onlookers whispered amongst one another. Ezara’s expression filled with surprise as she watched the Arutar challenge her leader. She hadn’t expected this. Most from the lowlands that came within the mountains and had the unfortunate miscalculation of ending up before Rok...well they were shaking and begging for their life. But perhaps Ezara’s words had spoken strength into the woman.

Rok shifted his weight as he watched her pull out the bag. “Jorah.” He spoke his voice deep as he gazed to the inkroot within the pouch. He grinned and made to grasp it from her as she pulled it close to her chest. A bit of a growl came from the leader’s lips as he glared to her now. He crossed his arms over his chest as he towered before her. “You tell your tales little farmer, but we’ve not seen such a plague here.” He smirked to her. He looked to the others as they listened to the outsider speak.

Ezara watched with her jade hues as Aria spoke of the meaning of their tattoos. She gazed about the room to those around her. The great tattoos of the Umari. It was what made them fierce to look at...but it also told their story. Beneath her red ink that slashed through her right eye the Shaman had a scar from when she was a child that brushed through her brow. Rhav had to save her from a wolf when she set out for her first solo hunt. She always claimed she would have survived though. Aria’s voice broke her from her thoughts as she felt the pouch press against her. Her fingertips curled around it, her jade hues stared to the woman. Why was she gifting her? Her lips pressed together as she watched the fiery haired farmer.

Rok grit his teeth slightly as he watched the exchange between the two. “You expect me to feel pity for you Arutar girl?” He questioned in a gruff tone. “You come into my village and you play this charade before my people.” His ears were slightly red from the anger that bubbled up within his chest. “Give that to me.” He swiped forward toward Ezara.

The Shaman took a step back, her hues watched him carefully. “You deny that this Arutar has helped us?” She questioned her voice calm. “Our people have lived in isolation since the war. You are leading us deeper into seclusion if we cannot even trust those that we have been trading with for years.” She had the pouched hugged to her chest as she watched her tribal leader carefully.

His icy hues stared to Ezara a long moment. He grit his teeth as he looked back to Aria. “Safe passage.” He scoffed. “Have you seen the storm farmer?” He questioned as he shifted his weight to his other foot. “You would be lucky to make it down the mountain alive in this storm.” He leaned forward toward her, unafraid of personal space. His eyes were level with hers as he stared to her. “I tire of the games that outsiders wish to play. You’re lucky the Shaman here has spoken to keep you within her hut. Otherwise I would likely have spilled your blood.” He smirked as he watched her. “You will gain passage home tomorrow, when the storm has died down.”

“I will go with her.” Ezara spoke up then.

“You will not.” Rok snapped back as he straightened and turned his gaze to the Shaman. “You are not risking your life for an outsider. She will descend the mountain alone.”

“That is hardly fair. Do you believe that to be fair, Rok?” She questioned as she stared to him, her jaw clenched and her brow furrowed. “She saved the life of Varketh. She did not ask of anything from you. I will descend with her and return the favor.” Her voice was strong. “The Reaper may be at the doorstep...but if it is merely illness, I can help your father. Even if it is to ease the pain.” Her jade hues gazed to the Arutar.

“You are not their Shaman.” Rok growled as he glared to her.

“But they are our allies. The only ally that we have.” Ezara spoke as she stood her ground. She held the sack forward. “I offer you this gift, Rok. In exchange for gracing me with your right of passage to leave our village. If only for a night.” She waited as Rok stared to the sack. He brought his eyes to her, then to Aria. He snarled his lip before he swiped it from her hand. Ezara finally bowed her head slightly as she clasped her hands before her and she took a step back.

Rok turned his gaze to Aria, “I will grant you my Shaman. On one condition.” He paused as he looked inside of the pouch to the inkroot. “If she is harmed in any way...know that the Gods will bare down upon your village of farmers.” He warned before he turned and climbed his stairs. He sat down heavily and held his hand out. A woman placed a fresh mug of ale in his hand and he took it. “To Zinus! May your strength lead us!” He lifted his mug. Others gave a deep sound as they raised her own mugs and ale sloshed about the floor.

Ezara pressed her lips together. “Come. I am certain your clothing is as damp as my own.” She spoke over the clamor of the crowd. The Shaman didn’t speak as she led the woman back through the city. She climbed the stairs toward her hut and she pushed inside. A shiver left her as the heat of her hut washed over her body. Ezara turned and her jade hues locked upon Aria. “Know that you are only living because I vouched for you.” She spoke as she searched over the woman. “If anyone else were to disregard our leader such as you did...” She pressed her lips together and shook her head. “No one does. Because he is quick to his blade.” She turned and then stepped from the circular room then.

The Shaman was gone for several minutes. The hut smelled sweet of the herbs that she’d tossed upon the fires. The two wounded warriors slept peacefully. Ezara returned in lighter clothing that hugged against her figure, rather than hiding it beneath the leathers and furs. The cloth was dyed black and held green designs upon it that brought out the colors of her eyes. She hung her leathers upon a rack that was near the fire. It would dry over night and be ready for her trek to the temple in the morning. Ezara brought over a pair of clothing to Aria. “This should do for the evening for you. Hang your clothing there on that rack.”

Ezara drew in a breath as she seemed to think. “The storm should pass by morning...if it does not we must stay until it has passed. But I have commitments that I must keep. Before we leave there is something that I must do.” She spoke as she watched the woman. “You will stay here while I am gone.” She seemed to almost order this. The Shaman stepped over to her shelves of herbs and looked through them. “Tell me. Of your father’s illness. I will put together a mixture to help him.” She started to gather things from what she had already been told. She lay a leather out upon the table and began to pile the herbs in the center of it. When she would finish she would take a tie and cinch it shut until she could use the herbs on Aria’s father. Ezara glanced to the sleeping warriors as she worked, she listened. Her expression was soft as she seemed to focus deeply at the task at hand. This would be the first time she would leave the village. The first time she would see anything outside of Umari territory...it was both frightening and exciting to her.

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A Lost World Mar 22, 2022 0:45:33 GMT -5

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Post by Raven on Mar 22, 2022 0:45:33 GMT -5

Aria stared to the man who peered down before her. She did not argue with the man, though she wanted to. Of course he had not seen the plague – the man likely hasn’t left the peak of the mountain since he first sat upon the leathered seat he claimed a throne. With every word, and the ale stenched breath that wafted upon her – she felt a bubbling anger. Though she felt the warmth in her chest once more, a simple calming feeling. She took in a breath and let it out slowly, and controlled.

“Yes, I have seen the storm. I do not fear the storm…” she spoke as she glared to him. It was safe passage from him, his people – that is what she asked for. However, she said no more – she followed behind Ezara as she lead the way. Though they once stood in a hall of warmth – she felt nothing by an icy cold from their leader. When they stepped upon the snow, their boots crunching under a fresh layer, she felt more safe than she did before Rok.

There was much weight upon her shoulders now… if something happened… it meant war between her people and theirs. Though as the thought came… she imagined the war would be decently even, until the Mountain-folk ran out of food, and would starve before submitting in defeat… She did not want that, no not at all. However, here she stood before their leader – even speaking her own Leaders name? She was dabbling in the unfortunate politics of their affairs, and everyone knew the Umari were not very reasonable.

“While I humbly appreciate your help, if he had any intention on killing me – I would be dead” she spoke softly as they entered her cozy hut. “But, it is clear I am close to Jorah. A war with the people who feed you?” she lifted a brow “My people have more power than you think…” she shifted to the side, arms crossed as she thought out loud “No disrespect, of course… but it was the Umari who came to Arutar for help, those years ago. My father has told me the stories…” she sighed softly. “It can be easy to lose track of history though, but it Is much like the roots of the system. If we forget them, it will rot away – and soon enough… the entirety of the whole is lost” she lifted a brow and chuckled. “But thank you… for defending me.” She bowed her head slightly in respect, not that she knew it was even a custom, she doubted it.

As the woman retrieved clothing – Aria slipped back into the room Ezara came from. She quickly pulled the wet clothing from her skin and she shivered slightly. A light cloth to wipe down her body, and then she pulled the new leathers upon her. It was loosely fitting, but comfortable – fuzzy and warm. It was exactly what she needed, and wanted. She came back to the main room and hung her clothes as told and she let out a deep sigh.

When she came out – Aria glanced to one of the cots. Varketh stirred on the bed, rolling over to another side. She slowly stepped over and knelt down by the bed. With a single hand she stroked his long hair, she watched him breath for a long moment and then she sighed softly. She didn’t get up as she replied to the Shaman. “My father went to the East for trade. That is when I heard of the Red Vine… He had encountered it. Apparently… it is this plant that overtakes the fields. Until it is thick, killing anything under it. When they bloom – the pollen that lifts into the air… can make you sick. Of course, my father tried to cut at some of it – thinking he could stop it. He said the air was dusted with a kind of pepper, the flavor stung, and made him cough – a lot. A sort of stinging after… and then…” she sighed softly.

“At first he just had trouble with deep breaths, and then… coughing up… thick secretions. It was okay at first, he could work fine… but slowly it has gotten worse. He can hardly move his body – wracked with fever. And now.. he cough ups this red thickness, not like blood, no. He said it looks like the dust from the Red Vine, almost like…” she pressed her lips together. “I don’t know, it is like nothing we have seen. Whatever he fights, by now.. the entire eastern village of Bahsing likely faces the same. Many have already left to settle some where else… an entire village removed by this…” she threw her hands up. “This – I don’t know” she sighed once more.

It was obvious she was flustered, angry… upset. Her father had tried to help – and now he was dying. “It has been only a week’s time since his visit” she spoke as she glanced up, a slight glaze in her eye. She sucked back a sniffle and then glanced to Varketh, her fingers had stopped stroking and were resting in the thickness of his hair. “You should have waited out the storm too… you big bafoon…” she muttered to the resting man…

Blindside Tex
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A Lost World Mar 22, 2022 13:16:34 GMT -5

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Post by Blindside Tex on Mar 22, 2022 13:16:34 GMT -5

Rok sneered slightly as Aria spoke that she did not fear the storm. “You have clearly not had a taste of what the Northern Tress Mountains offer then.” He laughed, others laughed with him. “You wouldn’t make it down that mountain alone, farmer.”

Ezara looked to him with a raised brow, “Which is why I offered to go with her.” She spoke before she’d stepped from the large building. As they entered her hut she turned and her jade hues locked upon the woman. She shifted slightly as she listened to Aria’s words that she spoke. “Rok does not care of politics. He doesn’t care whom he presses his thumb upon.” She replied. “He doesn’t understand the great consequences of his actions at times. I take no disrespect from what you have said, Aria. You are not wrong. But Rok if given any reason to kill you...well...he would...” She shrugged slightly. “I know that it was the Umari whom went to the Arutar for aid. I do not agree with Rok on most fronts. I...do not wish to repeat our past. That is why I am the Shaman of our tribe. I am meant to lead us through darkness...when I am needed.” She spoke and raised a brow as the woman bowed her head to her. A bit of a chuckle came from her lips. “Your customs, are interesting.” She commented before she’d disappeared into the back room. Her room.

When Aria would have entered the room she would have seen a beautiful bed that held many furs upon it. It looked comfortable and warm. A window overlooked the great mountains that were shrouded in snow and clouds with the storm. Ezara’s room smelled of roses and honey. A scent that she had come to love over the years. It was sweet, calming and inviting. Ezara lifted her eyes from the pile of herbs that she had created. She watched as the woman knelt next to Varketh. Her head tilted slightly as she watched the expression on the man’s face calm to the gentle touch of the Arutar woman.

She set down the glass bottle as the woman began to speak of the Red Vine. Her lips pressed together. She stepped forward and sat upon one of the cots as she listened, her elbow pressed against her knee and her chin was cradled in her palm. Her brows tugged together as she listened. “Only a week...” She looked to her wall of herbs. Ezara glanced to the woman as she sniffled slightly. “I will do my best to heal him, or at least relieve him of his pain, Aria.” She didn’t seem to know what to do with the emotions that the Arutar was exhibiting.

When their people died they would burn their bodies down to ash and their family would climb to Passage Peak. It was a special peak within the mountains that held a large archway. It was believed to be the gate of passage that the living would walk through as they moved on into their afterlife. The ashes would be walked through this archway and then at the cliff that overlooked the village the ashes would be tossed into the air to overlook their people from the afterlife. It was an honor to pass into the afterlife. When the time came that is. Though such a sudden illness that Aria’s father had fallen into. She imagined that was the reason for the Arutar being so upset. So easily able to make rash decisions and approached the Umari like she had.

“If this Red Vine is to spread...it could kill many people.” Ezara spoke, her brows were tugged together slightly as she stood and walked over to her herbal wall. She began to grab different herbs. She was silent as she measured out different mixtures until she had four small pouches of leather. She tied the tops carefully.

“I’m not a bafoon.” Varketh spoke as his eyes opened. The man looked to Aria and a chuckle came from him. “Now how did my trader get down the mountain side to save me?” He chuckled as he slowly sat up. He was fully healed. Not a shred of weakness remained. He looked down to his clothing that held his own blood. He lifted the torn leathers and gazed about the hut. His eyes fell upon Ezara whom stared to the herb wall deep in thought. “I think you are the first Arutar to enter the Umari village and live to speak of it, Aria.” He chuckled as he clapped her shoulder. Varketh stood and stretched as he heard the howl of the wind outside. He gazed out the window as he stepped forward to the small table that the two had sat at earlier. “These storms keep getting worse.” He spoke as he turned and took a seat at the table. He looked to Ezara a long moment. “Shaman, thank you for your healing hands once again.” He spoke to get her attention.

Ezara turned her jade hues to Varketh and gave a bit of a smile. “Of course, Varketh.” She glanced to Aria a moment as she walked around her desk from the herb wall. She took a seat on one of the cots once again. “I had to protect your savior. Without her you may not have survived.” She did not speak of the bird that Aria had conjured. “This Red Vine...” She pressed her lips together. “There must be something that is causing it...” She seemed stuck on the idea. “I may need...a piece of it in order to understand the plant.” She stood and paced slightly.

Varketh watched the Shaman a moment before he stood. He stepped to Aria and grinned. He chuckled lightly before he pulled her into a hug. “Thank you.” He spoke before he gazed into her eyes as he pulled back. “Where is your father?” He questioned as he looked about the room. His eyes fell upon Kril whom was still sleeping soundly. “Kril...” He moved and knelt next to the cot. He brushed the young man’s hair from his face.

Ezara turned her jade hues to the brewer and a sigh escaped her lips. “I expect him to sleep through the night, Varketh.” She spoke in a soft voice. “He was injured gravely….the bear must have slashed across his abdomen.”

Varketh’s eyes lifted as he stood slowly. He was always in awe by the things that the Shaman knew. “You knew of the attack?” He questioned.

“Yes. I saw it in a vision.” Ezara replied as she moved to her herbal wall. She began to mash up herbs one by one within a stone bowl.

Varketh shook his head slightly. “Thank the gods you knew of the attack.” He replied as he then looked to Aria. “You’ve asked about our Shaman much over the last few years.” He grinned. “It is nice that you have the ability to speak to her finally.” He smirked slightly. “When the storm calms, I will guide you back to the trader outpost. I have more goods...I lost a great deal of my trade items down the side of the mountain. But I will gather more so that the trade is worth it for you.” He nodded slightly.

Ezara mixed the herbs into water and placed the pot over the fire at the center of the room. “Ah, will there be more coffee beans?” She questioned curiously.

Varketh grinned and gave a nod, “This is the very trader that I get those great beans from.” He chuckled happily as the room began to fill with the scent of the special blend of tea that the Shaman was brewing. “Her and her father provide me with everything that I need to brew my ales and the coffee.”

Ezara tilted her head slightly she gave another slight smile as she pulled the tea from the fire and she poured three mugs. She handed the mugs to Aria and then to Varketh before she took a seat upon one of the cots again. She sipped upon the tea and closed her eyes as the flavor washed over her tongue and instantly relaxed her. Her mind mulled over the information from the day. She had never heard of the Bahsing Village. She wondered exactly how far away it was. What if the threat of the Red Vine only affected that area? Would it spread? She closed her eyes slightly as she hugged the mug of steaming tea to her chest. She was exhausted. The use of her magic to bring two Umari back from near death...it was taxing on her body.

“You look like you need rest, Shaman.” Varketh spoke as he set his tea aside. “I can entertain your guest for the evening. You have to rise early tomorrow for the offering.” He gave a soft smile.

Ezara gazed to Varketh a moment. She finished her tea and then she nodded. “Yes. There is much that I will need to do tomorrow.” She stood and set her mug upon her desk. “I will speak to you in the morning.” She turned and slipped into the back room.

Varketh smiled as he took a seat upon the cot that he had slept upon. “There are fur blankets in that chest there. I’ll make sure the fire is stoked for the evening before I leave.” He sipped upon his tea. “Now, tell me. How in the gods did you manage to find me, Aria?” He questioned with a bit of a smirk. “To have the Shaman protect you...it must have been something grande. She...does not stand up to Rok much.” He shook his head slightly. “For her to do such a thing speaks highly of you. Which I wouldn’t expect anything less.” He chuckled and then sipped from his tea. “You’re not a simple farmer.” He commented before he took another drink. His eyes stared to the flickering flames of the fire as it danced about.

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A Lost World Mar 25, 2022 20:26:56 GMT -5

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Post by Raven on Mar 25, 2022 20:26:56 GMT -5

Aria quickly turned her head towards the brew master as he spoke, stirring beneath her gentle touch. Aria grinned and she leaned back as he sat upward. “Just a drop of bravery, and an entire mug if stupidity” she chuckled and watch as he seemed to settle into his body once more. She stood and smiled, two hands upon her hips as she watched. Though her attention was pulled away as Ezara mentioned the Red Vine. Aria’s lips pulled into a thin line and she shook her head. “I don’t think I can let you do that, you heard Rok… if you were to get hurt, well…” she sucked in a breath. War… If the Red Vine wasn’t going to kill her people, the Umari would.

Aria glanced to Varketh and met him halfway, her arms squeezing around the brute of the man. She was small in comparison, and rather thin. Varketh could easily lift her, break her in half, and put her back together before she could even think of the action. As he split away, Aria brought her arms together before her waist…

“Kane is not well.. unfortunately. Sick… it is actually – why I am here. Initially I was going to ask you to come back to the village on my behalf and speak to Ezara for help… but… when I heard you ventured out in that storm…” she sighed “I got worried, and a little desperate” she hummed and sat down in one of the chairs before the table. She sipped on her own tea and listened to the two speak. How the Shaman apparently had a vision? That explained why she knew exactly where to go, that cave…

Aria blushed slightly as Varketh gave away that she had questioned about the Shaman before. “She lives up to your every tale, Varketh” she smirked and took another sip to hide her reddening cheeks. “Whatever is lost… don’t worry, it will be okay. I still intend on giving you my half – as a thank you. For you, and the Umari clan, who has been as welcoming as they can” she smirked and then sipped once more.

As the shaman disappeared to the room in the back – she slunk back into the chair slightly, releasing a deep sigh. Aria stood and glanced to the chest that he mentioned and she opened it, sifting through the choices – she pulled a large sherpa lined blanket out and wrapped herself up and sat back on the chair. “Hmm…” she thought for a long moment. She smiled to his comment – she was not a simple farmer. No, she never was. “I never aspired to be just a farmer…” she chuckled. “Your war stories always intrigued me, in truth…. The Umari are awe inspiring. I am lucky to be here, and equally so to get to see them… their home, their people” she shrugged “I can understand the defensive nature, at times I wished The Arutar were similar” she chuckled and hummed.

“Something happened in that cave…” she whispered. “My dreams of being more than just a farmer are slowly coming fruition… My father is very sick… even if Ezara’s help, I don’t know that he will make it. I should have made this trip days ago… even if he recovers, my father is set at discovering more about the Red Vine… the days of farming even for him may be over. If he cannot, then I will” she spoke and raised a brow. “These storms… the winters are colder, even in the hillside, the summers are so hot – fires rampage the hillsides… now this vine? It is starting to feel as though the Gods are punishing us…” she sighed softly.

“But we can’t sit idle, even if they are. If they are punishing us – then there must be a reason, or a way to atone. If we sit and do the same thing – then we will face our punishment, and pay with our death….” She crossed her arms briefly… “Hmm…” she shivered slightly. “It has been… a long journey, and day. I will retire…” she stood and walked over to Varketh as he sat on the cot. She leaned down and placed a gentle kiss upon his forehead and she smiled. “I am glad you are well… and Kril – he will come around.” She placed a hand on his shoulder and then found one of the open cots…

Aria curled up upon the cot and easily fell into slumber. The gentle crackling of the fire, and the howling of the wind rocked her to a sleep that she had been craving. Her previous night out in the sticks was lack luster, only a few hours of tossing and turning – jumping to every tiny sound or howl. Here… she slept soundly. Even if in the earliest of the mornings, before the sun actually rose, the Shaman would have moved about – she would not have stirred. No, she was wrapped in her blanket and huddled in her dreams.

Vin’dethya cresh vi nextar e mandi… whispers. Words that made no sense. They crawled over her mind. They slipped into her dreams – over and over. Vin’dethya…

Aria sat upward and gripped the blanket around her. She gripped her head – it was a similar language that she heard just before she encountered Flurie… but the pain that cracked into her skull was even worse. She frantically stood and stumbled slightly – her eyes glancing around. The fire was freshly stoked, a bowl of berries and bread were sat out for her… She looked around and slowly opened the door to Ezara’s room… she was gone. The voices came louder and louder, and then would slowly fade. Like the washing of the tide on the beach, coming and going. But the cracking in her skull did not faulter. She felt the humming in her chest – the warmth, Flurie was trying to calm her…

Aria pulled her cloak on, her hands grasping her bow – she pushed the door outward. She had to shove against a foot of snow to open it, but eventually she made it into the howling blizzard. It did not seem to give in…. It was in the midst of the night, dusk was soon to come… she gripped her thick robe and held her hand up. She felt the warmth in her chest glow and a red orb sifted from her chest, and shot into the sky.

In an instant – Flurie came barroling down from the sky. She spread her wings to brace her self, a gentle landing on the ground. Flurie bowed easily and Aria climbed ontop. Though – that warmth in her chest grew, the magic filling her with warmth – which made her muscles relax. They were trembling and twitching to hold warmth…

The large bird quickly launched in the air. The whispers in her mind were soft – but they whispered the same line over and over. Flurie seemingly knew exactly where to go – up the mountain side. The whispers grew louder with each beat of her wings, until she landed atop an old runes… In an instant, Flurie became an orb once more and ventured into her chest. “What is here?” she muttered and stumbled forward. She saw tracks that lead towards the entrance of these runes – Ezara?

Last Edit: Mar 25, 2022 20:27:35 GMT -5 by Raven

Blindside Tex
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A Lost World Mar 25, 2022 23:31:23 GMT -5

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Post by Blindside Tex on Mar 25, 2022 23:31:23 GMT -5

Varketh gave a hearty chuckle to the words that Aria spoke. Just a drop of bravery, and an entire mug of stupidity. He smirked to her, “That sounds about right.” He commented. As the Shaman spoke of the Red Vine the brewer paid great attention to her, his expression captivated.

Ezara had merely looked to Aria, a brow slightly raised. She pressed her lips together. But she did not comment back. She knew it was a dangerous idea, but something needed to be done. Things were changing in this world. If the gods had decided to snuff out those that had wronged them...she wished to do what she could to survive. To atone for the sins of the past Umari if need be.

“Sick?” Varketh questioned a sigh came from his lips. His eyes focused in on Aria, he showed great concern. He cared for Kane. The man had traded with him for over two years now. Just as he had grown a relationship with Aria, he had done the same with her father. “Ezara is a great healer. I’m certain that she can mend your father.” He nodded and then he was pulled into the conversation with the Shaman.

Ezara tilted her head slightly as she looked to Aria. She’d seen the blush that rushed across her cheeks like a forest fire. A bit of a smirk curved up her lips as the Arutar spoke. “I’m certain Varketh has many tales. I’ve heard some of his stories. As far fetched as one can imagine.” She gave a light chuckle. She seemed to have loosened up slightly, but there was still something about the Shaman. Something about her demeanor that wasn’t quite relaxed. She seemed focused elsewhere.

“Ahhh Aria I will give you the trade you deserve.” Varketh chuckled lightly. “I’ve more stock at the tavern that I can bring down the mountain when the storm clears up.” He watched her as her eyes had followed after the Shaman. “She’s a bit...more difficult to speak to than I am. I’ve had a lot of time trading among your people. Ezara only knows the Umari.” He spoke in a bit of a hushed tone to Aria. “She only knows of our ways and...quite frankly she only knows of the way of a Shaman. She was raised into it. It was foretold that she would be a great healer one day and here we are.” He smirked slightly and watched as she wrapped herself in the sherpa.

Varketh relaxed onto his cot and pulled his own blanket around his body as he rolled to his side. He listened to her as she began to speak. “An Arutar that finds the Umari inspiring. Now that is something we should have our Shaman archive. Hm?” He gave a smile to her. His brows pulled together slightly as she began to speak of the cave. “The storms have gotten much worse in the past few years...I’ve heard of the fires...” He commented as his brows scrunched together slightly. “I do not doubt that Ezara will fully mend your father. She is capable of incredible things. But if the Gods have set to punish us...” He paused a long moment as he seemed to think. “Perhaps you are to save us from the horrible storms, hm? An Arutar that can survive the cold of the Northern Tress Mountains...now that is something the Gods must look upon...” He spoke as he rolled to his side and shut his eyes. Soon enough the brewer was fast asleep.

**

Ezara woke early in the morning. She pulled on her furs and her leathers. She fixed the braids in her hair and she drew on the red line of paint upon her face. She grasped a leather pack and placed several herbal bottles within it as well as a leather pouch that she had been given from Rok for the offering. It was heavy. She carried her pack from her room and quietly traversed across the room to the door where she set it down. She gazed over the three that slept soundly. Her jade hues paused upon the Arutar woman for a moment before she slipped from her home. She walked around the back of the hut and reached into the snow where she knew a bush of berries lie.

The Shaman carefully gathered the berries into a pouch upon her hip. She pulled every last one of the winter berries from the bush before she slipped back into her home. She pulled wooden bowls down and ensured that each of the three received a bowl of berries and a fresh cut from the loaf of bread. Ezara stoked the fire as she ate her berries. She sat upon her heels as she tore off pieces of her bread. This trek to the temple was going to be difficult. It would take her longer than usual because of the storm.

With a breath she stood and she pulled her cloak from the drying rack. Ezara pulled the cloak around her shoulders and then she pulled on her pack beneath it. It weighed her down quite a bit, but that wouldn’t stop her. She pushed out into the storm as the winds continued to howl. Her jade hues were accustomed to traveling in these low light conditions. The snow was thick and heavy as she pressed forward. It took her until dawn had nearly come to grace the mountain with its light to reach the temple.

Her hands were frozen from climbing up the steep jagged rocks in the cold. Her teeth chattered as she slipped into the temple. Her clothing was caked in snow as she glanced about. Dim blue lights illuminated the inside of the temple that was forged of cold steel. She slipped her frozen cloak from around her shoulders and folded it neatly. She set it upon what was once a desk for reception to the building that she’d entered. Ezara shivered again as she gazed about the huge room, the howling of the storm outside was masked by the cavern like ruin.

The ceiling and floors held stalactites and stalagmites. A few plants hearty enough to survive in the cold grew and climbed up the walls. She drew in a breath as she turned and walked deeper into the temple. It was a series of hallways that led through doors that had been pried open years ago. Old pieces of art remained upon the walls in a few places, but for the most part it was a cold metal temple. Ezara drew into a large room with a staircase that descended down. It wrapped down toward a great statue of a man that held a ball upon his back, his expression was that of determination. Glyphs were etched into the metal plaque before the man, but unfortunately no one in the Umari tribe had learned to read the glyphs of the old ones.

Ezara made her way before the statue where she pulled the heavy pack from her back. She pulled out a bushel of dried herbs. Sage. She then carefully struck her flint and steel together until it lit. The shaman drew in a deep breath of the earthy scent. She then began to pull other various offerings from the bag. A dagger, a pouch of dye, a pouch of dried meat, etc. Ezara gazed to the statue, “Zinus, God of Strength.” She spoke as she carefully began to place the offerings upon the base of the statue. “I call upon you for your watchful eyes to keep the Umari safe.”

She knelt before the statue and she pulled a vial out that was filled with a thick black liquid. A concentration of the tea that she’d drank before the vision. The Shaman settled in and drew in deep breaths of the sage that burned and filled the room with its scent. She then lifted the vial to her lips and drank it swiftly. Ezara gagged slightly to the horrible flavor. “Zinus. The storms have become trying to the Umari. Please lend us your strength.” She spoke. “Show me, what we must do.” Her breathing began to shake as the drug took hold.

Ezara’s head lulled forward as she began to speak a prayer to the God of Strength. “Great Zinus, God of Strength.” Her fingertips curled over her legs as she drew in more deep breaths. “Guide me.” She breathed as her eyes glowed slightly. Her eyes rolled back and only the whites of her eyes could be seen. Her breathing began to tremble as she was sucked into a vision.

**

Ezara stood within the great plains of the Arutar. She looked around to the rolling grassy knolls, the Northern Tress Mountains in the far distance. She took a step forward and her foot crunched upon something. The Shaman’s eyes lowered to see what it was. She knelt slowly as she lifted a dagger from the dirt. Her fingertips ran over it carefully. The dagger was hand crafted, plenty of hours were put into it to make it was nice as it was. It was an Arutar dagger, easily distinguishable with the markings upon the hilt. She ran her thumb over the carvings as her head tilted slightly.

The Shaman looked about and she winced as the world around her slowly began to ripple and morph. “What’s….going on?” She grit her teeth. The lush green grass slowly began to wilt and die away as she took a few steps back. “No….” She watched as a deep red vine began to crawl along the plain before her. Ezara turned and sprinted away from it. As she looked over her shoulder the Red Vine seemed to spread across the land as swiftly as she could run. The skies turned dark as she rushed along. Her heart began to pound within her chest. “No….this...can’t be….” She felt something wrap around her ankle. Ezara let out a cry as she was gripped by the vines and she fell to the ground harshly. She slashed at the vines with the dagger as they wrapped around her body and compressed her. Red dust filtered into the air from her actions. “No...” She groaned as she tried to free herself, the burning sensation within her lungs did not stop her. She continued to fight.

There was a flash from the skies and then suddenly the vines released her. Ezara gasped for air as she scrambled to her feet. She gazed up to see a huge bird within the skies. “Is that…?” She stumbled slightly as her lungs filled with the red dust that float within the air. Her eyes fluttered as she fell to her knees and the world around her faded away.

**

Ezara lay upon her back before the great statue of the God of Strength. Her body shook slightly as her muscles twitched about. Her brows furrowed together as her breaths moved in and out of her chest swiftly. Her hands were balled into fists, ready to fight. The Shaman suddenly drew in a slow breath, her muscles completely relaxed and she fell completely still. Not even her chest rose and fell. She stayed like this for several long seconds before her eyes opened and she sucked in a breath as if she’d been under water for too long. She could not tell this vision to Rok. She would need to lie. To change it. Her visions, they did not always come true. She’d learned this at a young age. She lay there, her jade hues gazed up to the shadow as she slowly came to her senses.

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A Lost World Mar 26, 2022 12:39:06 GMT -5

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Post by Raven on Mar 26, 2022 12:39:06 GMT -5

Aria trudged forward and climbed down the stairs into the temple. She shivered slightly but there was a kind of warmth on the inside of the structure. She glanced around to the scuffed floor of marble.. the pillars in the room of metal. “Wow…” she approached a oddly shaped table and placed a hand upon it. There was an engraving in the table, glyphs that made no sense. Just as her eyes began to admire once more – she felt a crushing pain in her head once again. The voice were like that of a million birds – screeching by. She gripped her head and cried out, her voice echoing into the room.

She stumbled forward and continued down a hallway, her hands gripped a smooth metal railing that lead her forward. She moved into some center chamber – where plants crawled up the pillars of the room. In the center was a giant statue of a man… her jaw dropped at it’s sheer size, it’s definition in the statue. A giant man holding a sphere on his back – what was this? She peered forward to the several candles that were lit about the base of this statue. Ezara – who lay unconscious on the ground.

Aria rushed forward and skid to her knees, her fingers laced under Ezara and pulled her into her lap. “Shaman?” she questioned and placed a hand gently on her face… She then felt a swelling in a her chest – and her eyes rolled into the back of her head…

The image came before her – the hills of Arutar people. The vine spread across like a thick paint of red over the hillside. Though – she was looking downward from above, that is when she realized she rode Flurie high in the sky… and below her was Ezara.

“Ezara!!!” Aria shout and she gripped the drake she road. Her energy caused Flurie to respond. Flurie drew back her beak and a ball of purple energy collected at the tip of her head. She then slung her head forward and a huge beam shot forward. A screeching sound came from her and the beam easily sliced through the thick vine that grasped onto Ezara.

In an instant – a pack of wolves came from the hillside. There were 4 wolves, each of differing color. Though the alpha of the pack was easily almost double their size. He was a very large all white wolf with glowing blue eyes. The Alpha rushed forward and threw his head under Ezara, and he tossed her upward slightly. With ease Ezara would have landed upon his back. A snarl came from him as he bounded forward, jumping from side to side as the Vine rapidly grew – trying to lash forward.

Flurie dipped down and dove forward, following the wolf. Aria pulled her bow and notched an arrow as she held on with tight legs around Flurie. In the distance was a single man – his hands were raised upward, but appeared just a shadow in atop the hill. Behind him was a nestled village in the hillside. The man cackled and turned – the entire village was covered in the vine. Aria cried out and drew her bow back – an arrow flew forward towards this being. It shot into his chest. The being grasped the arrow and looked up, only his cackling laugh filled the air…

Aria gasped as she came to – tears were streaming down her cheeks. Her people – the vine, that man? What was all of this. The wolves? She looked around and before her were the 4 wolves. They sat patiently. The Alpha sat in front of the statue, the other 3 sat around the two. “What – is happening?” she spoke through a tear.

As Ezara would come to - the Alpha would slowly approach. About his neck was a necklace - it had teeth and spikes, but at its peak was a glowing orb, the size of one's fist. It shimmered many colors, like a swirling maelstrom within of all the colors. He leaned his head down slowly - the orb hung below, as if to offer to her. "Ezara- I think he's...?"

Blindside Tex
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A Lost World Mar 26, 2022 13:23:21 GMT -5

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Post by Blindside Tex on Mar 26, 2022 13:23:21 GMT -5

Ezara felt the warmth beneath her as she came to. Her jade hues gazed up to Aria and her lips parted. “Aria...what are you doing here?” She spoke, her voice was soft, weak. Her attention was pulled away as the huge dire wolf approached. The alpha of the pack. She gazed up to the glowing hues of the wolf. Her eyes fell to the orb, her brows tugged together. It was much like the orb that she’d touched years ago deep within another temple. Without a word Ezara reached up with shaky fingertips and grasped onto the orb. It clicked as it detached from the necklace. The Shaman gasped as the light of the orb burst and rushed into her chest. Her eyes rolled back as her body tensed, her breathing became shallow and quick.

A man stood before an empty ball. “I will lock it away. All of the magic.” He spoke his voice sullen. “If Tobias expects to destroy this world with our magic. I will ensure that he will have to try damned hard to get to it. Who else is with me?” The man held silvery hair and amber hues. He looked to the orb. “By the all father, we will stop him from destroying this world.” He then bowed his head as he clutched onto the orb and he began to speak in an ancient tongue that Ezara could not understand.

The shaman stepped forward within the vision and gazed into the orb as it began to fill with a swirling malestrom of color. Her lips parted as she lifted her hues to look to the man. The beautiful amber color of his eyes faded away and the eyes that remained were a faded color of green. “It is done.” He spoke as he then turned to a machine behind him. “I will spread the orbs throughout the land. Tobias will not get to them.” He assured the others as they came forth with their own orbs. He began to load the orbs into the metal case that held many different intricate locks. “Wish me luck.” He spoke before he slipped from the room.

Ezara gasped as she quickly stood to her feet. Her beautiful jade hues took on a glowing amber ring that seemed to breathe like that of the embers of a fire. She took a few steps back as she looked to the wolves. Her chest rose and fell quickly. Within her fingertips fire flickered to life. She could feel the warmth of the flame. Ezara looked to the flames as her browed pinched together. “What...is this?” She questioned as her lips parted.

She could feel the warmth of the flame, but it did not hurt her as it licked up her arms toward her elbows. The Shaman gazed to the wolves and then to Aria. “You should not have come into the temple...” She breathed. “This is a sacred place. Only the shaman of the Umari or one with written passage is allowed within the temple.” She stumbled back slightly and held a hand to her head. It ached after she’d spoken the harsh words. Ezara groaned as the flames disappeared from her grasp. She had stumbled against the wall and leaned back against a panel that held a dim glow to it. Her hand rest upon the panel.

“Access Granted. Welcome.” A female voice sounded within the room.

Ezara heard the grinding of the door as it slid from its place that it had been for many years. She glanced to Aria a long moment before she stepped to the statue again. The glyphs. They made sense now. “Atlas – Olympian Titan. Destined to hold the weight of the world.” She read the glyphs easily as if she’d always known the language. “Atlas...” She spoke the name again as she looked up to the huge statue. She looked to the door that had been opened. “It isn’t safe for you to stay alone. Come.” Ezara spoke as she walked toward the open door.

She stepped into the next room. It held a blue glow to the room. Tanks of water were on either side with beautifully colored fish within them. Ezara’s lips parted as she stepped to the glass and gazed in to the fish. She glanced about the room carefully. Her heels clicked against the marble flooring. She quietly stepped up to a plaque and brushed a bit of dust off of it. Her fingertips brushed over the words. Some she understood. Others. She could not. “Poseidon...” She furrowed her brows. “God…..storms...bad-tempered...” Her breathing quickened slightly. She took a step and a tile in the floor depressed.

A hologram appeared around the room cast in a beautiful blue light. The sound of lightening erupted throughout the room. Ezara braced herself and grasped her spear. The hologram began to speak in the language of the ancient ones. She understood some of it. But other words didn’t make sense. A figure appeared with a huge trident. It was a terrifying sight. Ezara’s hand filled with fire and she thrust it forward. The flaming ball shot through the hologram and sizzled as it hit a metal pillar behind it, melting the metal slightly. Holographic waves crashed down throughout the room as the storm roared. Then suddenly it was all gone. The Shaman looked about left and right. She pressed her lips into a line as she swallowed hard. “Poseidon...” She spoke the name of the God again. “Does he cause the storms? Is our god of strength a false god?” She seemed to be growing rather distraught as she walked up to a huge statue of the man that held the trident. Each feature about him was carefully crafted, down to the way that the toga sat upon his body. “He wears no armor...” She whispered as she gazed to the God in awe.

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