Shaklyri's Journal
Marpenoth - 1372 DR
HighHarvestTide,
Year of Wild Magic
Humans
can be such deceitful creatures.After fighting trolls, discouraging bandidts
at swordpoint, and burying one who has become a friend, to payoff criminals
who deserve death is bad enough. They have proven they deserve death:
they tried to kill the child AFTER the exchange had taken place.
They told us Mikhail had been drugged to keep him quiet, and showed us
a vial of the "antidote;" if Eleni had not noticed that it was a poison,
we would have ended up killing the very child we meant to save. In
addition, the kidnappers shot at him as they retreated, then trigged a
rockslide which destroyed the cart, and would have destroyed us as well,
had we not realized what was happening and gotten out of the way.
How
can they hate a child so much that they would want to kill him? Why
do they hate Hykos enough to harm him thus through his son? I can
understand money as a motive for kidnapping, as much as I can understand
kidnapping at all (there is only one abduction I know of of which I can
approve, and my mother probably considered it mere property theft, my father
a rescue.) I do not understand why, after the exchange, it would
be necessary to kill him. Do they think a priest of a god of justice
is LESS likely to pursue them if his son is dead? They could not
have pulled this off if they were that stupid.
The
kidnappers themselves disappeared down a hole in the ground. We would have
followed them down, had there been time, but we wanted to get Mikhail home
first.
It has
been difficult, losing Grunk. I have seen friends injured in battle,
of course, but then I could help them. I remember maybe three times
in my life when Mietza has lost a scout or a guard, but then I was too
young to know well the deceased or to empathize properly with my clan.
At least I think I understand darious a little better now. If it
is so hard to bury a travelling companion after only a few months, burying
thrity-two family members whom one has known for upwards of a century must
be truly agonizing. In such a case, I might go just as mad as he.
1 Marpenoth,
Year of Wild Magic
Hykos has reason to be proud of his son. In spite of his ordeal,
he is trusting without being incautious. Young Mikhail is quite well-disciplined
for one his age — or he appears younger than he is. Of course, this
assumes physical and emotional development of humans roughly parallels
that of the elven races. He also has an unusual ability to know when
his antics are no longer appreciated. Also to his credit, this boychild
accepted Asgar and myself as trustworthy adults without any of the prejudice
so common amongst the local humans.
As far beyond his years as he is, he is still definitely a child, with
a child's fears and inattention to detail. All he can tell us of
his captors is that the female, Silman, was nice to him and that Will is
the name of the Leader, Taddus' brother.
We have decided to return and track down the kidnappers. It is an
easy choice. Children should be with those who love them. In
addition, a man like Hykos should not have to pauper himself for his son
— no one who is willing to should have to. If the universe will not
reward such nobility, then I will.
2 Marpenoth,
Year of Wild Magic
Hykos seems to think he needs to convince us to hunt down the kidnappers.
It took three or four of us shouting through his carefully-rehearsed arguments
to convince him it would be impossible to stop us. The only reason
we did not follow them down their burrow was, after all, that we wanted
to get Mikhail home safe first.
Justice
Will Be Done
3 Marpenoth,
Year of Wild Magic
Hykos introduced us to two more of his friends this morning. Ralga'nal
is a half-orc, who apparenlty had some interest in asgar during the war,
the other is a half-elf with red hair and bright teal eyes. Xilocent
looks like neither a moon nor a sun elf, and I'm pretty sure such coloration
is not common among wood elves either.
4 Marpenoth,
Year of Wild Magic
Travelling to Marsember. Again. At least there is no troll
anymore.
5 Marpenoth,
Year of Wild Magic
Arrived in Marsember. Assassin feared by thieves guild murdered guard
official. Seems to be same person as shot at Mikhail. One Moonflaw
by name, an evil moon elf missing a finger.
6 Marpenoth,
Year of Wild Magic
Travelling to a small province north of here, where it appears some of
the kidnappers may have gone.
7 Marpenoth,
Year of Wild Magic
Still travelling north. Nothing else to say, really. Have been running
through my sword- drills on my watch, lately. The balance still feels
wrong.
8 Marpenoth,
Year of Wild Magic
Tracked down Bartholomew, apparently he is a deposed duke leading a rebellion
against the current government in this area. The Lord Sherriff would
not release him to us, and he was shot while attempting to escape on his
way to the gallows. That evening, we found Silman in a tavern.
She was apparently also part of the rebellion. We took custody of
her.
~Bartholomew
blames the church of Tyr for the end of his family's regime, saying they
are interested in politics rather than justice.
~Will
and Taddus apparently have some vendetta against the church of Tyr.
According to Silman, they have contracted with a mage to do something destructive
to the temple of Tyr at Suzail.
9 Marpenoth,
Year of Wild Magic
Travelling to Suzail with Silman. She must have been a good actress
to have convinced Mikhail that she was the nice one.
10 Marpenoth,
Year of Wild Magic
Travelling to Suzail, we happened upon a band of mercenaries who had been
paid with some of the ransom money to participate in Bartholomew's rebellion.
What are we supposed to do, take from them their hard-earned wages?
I snuck into their camp and healed some of their wounded, but somehow we
ended up in battle with them. We bought some horses after the battle
to try to make up their losses. Now I have my own horse. I
am still not sure about the beasts. At Mietza, we had only a handful
of pack-horses used by the traders. We had some herd-beasts: Rothe
brought from below and some goats and sheep. The bonds these lighter
peoples seem to have, their dependence on thier animals, perplexes me.
Maybe it is that compassion and affection come so naturally to them, so
hard to us.
11 Marpenoth,
Year of Wild Magic
We are still travelling to Suzail. We located Moonflaw. Actually,
she located us, trying to kill us before we could find and capture her.
She knows we are taking her to her death. It pains me. I do
not understand Moonflaw. She had all the blessings of the Seldarine:
the stars, the open air, trees, flowers, a society treasuring wisdom and
compassion, and she chose to turn from them. To me, that seems an
inconceivable choice, for these are the things I live to return to the
descendents of those I love, though I know I will never see them fully
enjoyed.
12 Marpenoth,
Year of Wild Magic
We are travelling to Suzail with Silman and Moonflaw.
Jump to Moonflaw
13 Marpenoth,
Year of Wild Magic
Arrived back in Suzail with prisoners. Reported about Will, Taddus,
and the mage, Calagor. I am very tired.
14 Marpenoth,
Year of Wild Magic
Today we went as observers as some purple dragons went to apprehend Will,
Taddus, and the mage Calagor. These official people immediately activated
traps which caused the death of all their party. We had been trying
to follow orders and stay out of the way, but we're not much for following
orders, especailly when those to whom we are supposed to defer prove incompetent.
We crashed into the wizard's ritual chamber during a demon-summoning.
(I hate demon- summonings. Something about it makes my skin crawl.)
One truly disturbing thing about this tower is the book we found in the
library --The Curse of the Flaming Half-Orc, written by Shaklyri Yl'Mietza.
None of us could read it, though. Once we were back at the Temple of Tyr,
I told Hykos the only reward I was really interested in was help removing
the symbol of Cyric from my shoulder. Apparently he can't help beyond
telling us we must convince a priest of Cyric to remove them. Great.
The last thing I need is to wander around trying to get involved with Cyricists.
Tonight, Hykos and I finally had an opportunity to speak in private.
Our conversation ranged over philosophy and religion, to history and social
traditions, but I did learn some valuable information about Darviss, including
the identity of my grandparents. Hykos seemed uncomfortable with my identity
as a drow female with human blood — he kept urging me to take the best
of both races and combine them into something unique. Of course,
I dared not tell him how closely I am following my father's legacy, but
also I believe he does not understand the difficulty of being neither one
thing nor the other. From what he has said, he has always had a home.
He does not understand that my choice of identity is the acceptance of
my home.
In the last few minutes of the discussion, he spoke of his wife, murdered
in his home. I asked him one question — whether his marriage was
worth the pain. He told me that some days the memory of his wife
is all that makes living possible. This devotion is an interesting
counterpoint to that jerk we met in Feather Falls. I am not yet convinced
that the gains of marriage outweigh the sacrifices. There is something
appealing about the security, though.
Notes:
~My grandmother
runs the stables at Blackfeather Bridge. Her parents were miners,
killed by drow. She wields a pick with deadly skill and has sworn
to kill all drow. My grandfather is the Sherriff at Blackfeather
Bridge. Hykos says he holds his position because he likes to bully
people and nobody else wants the job. His parents were killed by
Banites, so he is always on the lookout for Cyricists. I wonder how
they would react if they knew that their son was trained in infiltration
by the Zhentarim and lived among drow long enough to father a child, or
that that daughter had been partially resposible for the symbol of Cyric
marring the Blackfeather Bridge.
~Hykos
said he would be greatly surprised if Darviss' relations with his female
Harper contacts were not intimate, or at least flirtatious. I would
not doubt that Storm may have flirted with him, but there is something
wrong about the thought of anything more occuring between her and my father.
I suppose they are both human and capable of making their own choices,
but I want to place the sister of Qilue Veladorn somewhat above him.
~I just
realized, Hykos asked me if I knew Darviss was a Harper. How did
he know? Darviss said Hykos left at fourteen to join the priesthood,
Darviss was not a Harper until years later.
~Hykos
suggested I talk with Darviss about my problems with the sword's balance.
He said sentient weapons can sometimes exert corrective effects on such
problems. He also suggested some of the imbalance may stem from problems
Darviss is having with the role of father. How is it that males who
have lived decades or centuries in the underdark can become comfortable
in the role of father, yet the human cannot?
~Hykos
has arranged for our party to hold a permanent adventuring charter, allowing
us to bear unbound weapons within the borders of Cormyr. I am carrying
it, as Darviss is the one most disturbed by the peace-binding.
15 Marpenoth,
Year of Wild Magic
This morning, we received a message from Darious. Taelnakah has been
abducted from Tangled Trees. The white stag who delivered the message
seemed tired and harried, as if he had been searching for us for some time.
I hope no evil has befallen Taelnakah in the time it has taken the message
to reach us. Needless to say, I suspect House Jaelre, particularly
Taelnakah's father, though how they could have gotten through Tangled Trees'
defenses is a mystery to me. If I find it was any one of those accursed
thieves, I will wipe out every adult member of that house, though it take
all of the few centuries left to me. I will make them know that Taelnakah
is under my protection.
Jump to Parts
16 Marpenoth,
Year of Wild Magic
Traded songs with a gnome at the tavern tonight. Learned the "Ballad
of Zook." I believe this to be the same Zook for whom Shamil is searching,
and she agrees it is likely. She will probably go there as soon as
we can determine that Taelnakah is safe.
17 Marpenoth,
Year of Wild Magic
We stopped early tonight. The alternative was camping inside the
haunted forest. The moon should now be waxing, though still thin.
I cannot see her, for the clouds cover all.
18 Marpenoth,
Year of Wild Magic
I hate wraiths. They attacked the horses first, several of us are
now without mounts again. Fortunately, the need for speed to Tangled
Trees appears to be somewhat less now. A very rude mourning dove
delivered a message from Darious' grandmother this morning. She told
us that Darious had recovered Taelnakah safely with the help of his "planar"
friends. I have no idea what she means by that, but I understood
the insinuation that we showed disloyalty by not arriving to help look
for him.
We have reached Arabel. Asgar is certainly under the influence of
whatever made Grunk the way he is. He is wearing bright, flamboyant
clothes, and they do not complement him at all. I have told him that
if he ever gets to Mietza, I will introduce him to Kertsyl, that peacock
of a tailor, so that he might find a more healthy balance.
From: Shaklyri Yl'Mietza,
Arabel, Cormyr
To: Darious
Brightleaf
Tangled Trees, Cormanthor
18 Marpenoth, Year of
Wild Magic
Darious,
We received word of Taelnakah's Disapearance in Suzail on 15th day of Marpenoth.
We were delighted to receive word of his safe return in a letter from your
grandmother as we camped about a day south of Arabel on 18th day of Marpenoth.
If you have not already aprehended the culprit, we would gladly assist
you in bringing him to justice. Otherwise, we will probably be heading
to the Border Forest, as we have found some information indicating that
Shamil's missing brother might be found there.
If you hear news of a Red Wizard, a human female named Kizzif, please let
us know. She is responsible for the death of Eleni's son and guilty
of seducing Eleni's husband. She was very pregnant, dressed in red
robes, and had copper-brown hair when she disappeared (literally).
Fortunately, the High Priest of Tyr was able to cure Eleni of her insanity
before she learned that she is not pregnant. For a time, the thought
of another child was all that kept her from taking her own life.
Grunk died in a troll attack as we attempted to safely recover the kidnapped
son of the high priest of Tyr in Suzail. Apparently his odd mannerisms
were not innate, as Asgar has begun acting as flamboyantly as Grunk.
We suspect a curse on his bow. We have acquired another half-orc
companion, a female named Ralga who travels with a half-elf, aquatic by
the look of her. Mak'cha is still with us, although he seemed interested
in the philosphies of the clerics of Tyr. I am surprised he didn't
stay with them.
19 Marpenoth,
Year of Wild Magic
Today we reached the Thunder Gap. It rained again. Tomorrow
we cross the mountains.
20 Marpenoth,
Year of Wild Magic
Today I asked Darviss why he did not tell me of my great-grandparents'
deaths. He protested that I did not need to know, though I tried
to explain how much more effective it is to describe certain death than
it is to simply postulate unpleasantness. I don't know whether he
understood.
I have realized something. Chalithra mentioned that Darviss had family
in Scardale. I wonder who she meant, as all the family he will admit
to is in Blackfeather Bridge. I would like to go back to Scardale
and investigate. Perhaps I should start with the priestess, Farva.
He was headed to that town for some reason, and I'd imagine a goddess of
fertility would include midwives in her ranks who might know who had borne
a child by whom or who might have been likely to. I have noticed
that humans gossip a lot.
I told Eleni of the letter I posted to Darious. She agreed that if
Taelnakah is safe and Darious has been warned about Kizzif, the matter
of Shamil's brother becomes urgent, so we are heading northwards.
We will miss Highmoon and will not come to Tangled Trees for some time,
but there is a certain relief in that. Perhaps I am to build bridges
usable by elves, but we will soon need to winter over somewhere, and I
am not certain I am up to that sort of prolonged strain.
21 Marpenoth,
Year of Wild Magic
We reached a small trading post today — Wellsfolk, the people call it.
Eleni got herself very drunk, then tried to get me drunk (I don't know
how she can drink that swill — and the bartender called it "the good stuff").
I ended up giving her the same treatment we gave Asgar ehn he got drunk
in tangled trees. There is something incredibly indecent about a
she-elf who is falling-down drunk. It offends my sense of what is
right with the world, and to be perfectly honest, there is little enough
of that in the first place.
Those of us who lost horses to the wraiths bought replacements, three matched
black mares. I must admit they are beautiful animals. I have
named mine Tadlith. The particularly ugly half-orc who sold them
to us offered us a discount in exchange for our company; he said it was
rare that so many lovely ladies came through, let alone gave him the time
of day. I think he would have liked a little more than drink and
conversation, but he did not press. It was oddly pleasant, having
a male flirt with me. I think if he had been an elf, even a half-elf,
I might actually have enjoyed it. I just realized, I have never met
a human to whom I was attracted. I wonder if that is subconscious
choice, natural tendency, or simply a surplus of encounters with less than
savory specimens.
Most of my companions did some shopping, I purchased only a winter cloak,
Asgar purchased an entire outfit of ruffly violet stuff. He really
doesn't have the grace to pull off outfits like that. I keep telling
him that someone with his physique should stick to the muscle-shirt and
poofy pants bit, but he ignores me. One of these days I'm going to
see him in battle and burst out laughing just before I get stabbed through
the heart from behind.
22 Marpenoth,
Year of Wild Magic
Last night we were roused by an attack on the village. Kobolds —
unusually large and fierce kobolds. It was actually better than what
had been going on in the room next to mine. I am no longer worried
about Asgar's outfit making me laugh during battle; if I can fight alongside
an elf and a half-orc wearing each other's undergarments without breaking
concentration, I can handle just about anything.
So today we tracked the kobolds back to their lair. Apparently some
hobgoblins are running them through trials to make them bigger and stronger.
We killed or freed all we found, instructing them to leave the village
alone. Apparently their plundering had been quite successful, for
there was more treasure in those caves than was to be expected. I
do hope the kobolds can make their way far into the mountains where they
will not threaten people in this area. I would hate to free an entire
population only to have to kill them.
Note:
~ While
we were in the caverns today, I felt strangely comfortable, yet somehow
alone. I have never been underground before. I don't think
I like it.
23 Marpenoth,
Year of Wild Magic
We rested and healed today. Several of us went to the shrine of Silvanus
and learned that Asgar's illness is due to the murky water we crossed in
the kobold maze yesterday. It needs a remove disease spell to cure
it. I am glad that Eleni apparently can work such magic, as I have
not earned the knowledge of such prayers yet.
Tomorrow we are going to go evict the hobgoblins who were using the kobolds.
Asgar wants to go into the cave Silverback said smells of death and cats.
Personally, if some violent wildcat is living here and can kill enough
to survive without inconveniencing the village, I would rather leave it
alone. Besides, we need to be moving on to someplace where we can
stay if the winter weather gets bitter.
24 Marpenoth,
Year of Wild Magic
Today we nearly wiped out a tribe of hobgoblins, as much to keep Asgar
quiet as anything else. True, at least one of their number was torturing
kobolds to turn them loose on a human village, but does that necessitate
the execution of his entire clan? If one son of Mietza were to return
to the ways of our ancestors, would it then be right for someone to kill
every adult member of the community? We left one female and six children
alive. I cannot tell if this was mercy or stupidity. If Mietza
were decimated in this way, I know the perpetrators of such murders had
better hope to be dead before those children grew up.
During the battle with the hobgoblins, I almost died. It was odd,
I was in a circular room with walls of stone, Darviss was there, the man,
not the sword, and he was saying something like "no, you shouldn't be here!"
and then I was back in the caverns, across the room from where I had been
and sore everywhere. I realized, as I was waking, that Darviss and
I were communicating, though he was not in my hands. I also realized that
he had spoken clearly into my mind a few days earlier when I had become
unconscious. I wonder how much he is in my mind. Can he hear
thoughts I don't specifically intend for him? Can he read my memories?
Note:
~ I used
my Dove's harp to heal the party today. Cannot use it for this purpose
again until Uktar 4.
25 Marpenoth,
Year of Wild Magic
Ralga left today. Apparently she received a message asking her to
return home and deal with some family business. She says we would
not be welcome there, answering the question I had had about which race
had raised her. We told her we were heading for Dimble, and promised
to leave messages if we moved on, that she might find us once her business
is done.
We then took our own leave of the community, heading north until we reached
the caves, where we found evidence that the kobolds had returned, then
left again with someone Silverback says smells a little like Shamil.
I have been trying to get Darviss' attention by thinking at him.
While he now responds any time I speak to him, whether I am touching him
or not, he does not answer unless I speak. He seemed to get annoyed
after about the third time I worked my way from passive thought to speech,
then told him I was just testing the limits of our communication.
After he grumbled back "you're testing limits, all right!" I stopped.
26 Marpenoth,
Year of Wild Magic
I hate spiders. I have always been taught to be wary of them, but
I have just fought giant spiders and must fight them again tomorrow to
rescue Silverback and the gnome they have captured. I really,
really, hate spiders.
27 Marpenoth,
Year of Wild Magic
We got in and out of the spiders' territory with a minimum of wounds, given
that we were outnumbered, fighting poison, and scared witless. I
actually scored a couple of good hits, though I could tell Darviss was
helping in some places. He insists he can't correct that balance
problem, but somehow it wasn't there when I was underneath the giant spider.
We are all tired and sore, some of us still suffering from poisonous wounds.
The moon is nearly full, and I desire to be home again.
Jump to Mietza
28 Marpenoth,
Year of Wild Magic
The gnome was up to talking this morning, though he was still not well.
His name is Josen, and his story is interesting. Actually, it is
not his story which is so interesting, but that portion of Shamil's which
has been revealed through our rescue of him. She was apparently married,
or nearly married, to a gnome before she met us. I don't understand
marriage in general or gnomish customs in particular, but apparently this
means that if the gnome she married dies, she becomes his brother's wife.
I, of course, have problems with this concept. Apparently so does
Shamil, who has been using the male gnome's clan name out of honor for
him, believing him to be an only child. After much debate, we decided
the best course of action for all concerned would be for us to return to
Josen's village and try to convince Josen's father to allow her to continue
her travels, becoming Josen's wife only in name. Josen was the fourth
brother, the oldest surviving, and Shamil is apparently the third wife
he has inherited. Xilo and I followed Shamil to Josen's family estate
— a charmng home built inside five living oak trees.
Josen's mother was quite kind, but his father became angry, certain that
Shamil was lying — claiming kinship to acquire a share of the family's
wealth. In his anger, his heart failed. I called Xilocent to
help me, as her healing skill and my clerical spells together should have
been able to save him, but she was unused to rescusitating one so small,
and she punctured his lungs with several ribs. I could not undo the
damage, and he was dead. Xilocent will be tried for his murder, though
she has the forgiveness of Josen's mother. It is still unclear to
me whether I will be tried or merely called as witness. I wish I
had trusted to my newly-learned healing skills, but I thought she could
do better.
I will not even say what Eleni and Asgar were doing during this time.
I realized today that I am due — overdue perhaps, for the High Hunt.
I must keep my ears open in the next few days. If there is a beast
in the area which has been causing problems, then only death will keep
me from it when the full moon approaches. It will be a challenge,
Hunting alone, though I crave the sisterhood more than the Hunt itself.
29 Marpenoth,
Year of Wild Magic
Eleni and I went to visit Shamil today, as soon as it became clear that
I was not on trial for murder. Xilocent was still under house arrest,
and we left her and Asgar together at the inn. This was a mistake.
Unfortunately, we were too concerned about Shamil at the time to worry
about babysitting party members who should have known to stay put.
After some amount of argument involving Shamil, Lady Liala (Josen's mother),
and the two of us, several differences between gnomish marriage and the
marriages of humans and elves became apparent. First, Shamil would
still be permitted to marry another male, though she would be expected
to seek the approval of Josen and his other wives first. This, to
me, makes the marriage a viable possibility for the first time. Second,
while the general expectation is that gnomish wives stay with their husbands'
families, Liala made it quite clear that she would send Shamil on errand
after errand to preserve and increase the family's honor; this would decrease
the amount of time Shamil would have to spend playing dutiful wife.
Third, it was explained to us that refusing to go through with the marriage
would cause Shamil to become an outcast among her own people, perhaps even
from her own family. I have seen many drow who have had to make this
sacrifice; I counseled Shamil to consider carefully before she chose to
reject the marriage. There are many in Mietza who bear the pain of
leaving their old lives only through the strength of their faith in Eilistraee;
I do not believe Shamil has any such faith, let alone a strong enough one,
and I have heard of no good groups of rogue gnomes for her to flee to.
Shamil had grudgingly agreed to at least give marriage to Josen a chance
when the city alarm went up. Apparently Asgar and Xilocent had decided
an escape attempt was in order. Before the alarm went up, they had
killed a handful of gnomish guards. Fools. They fought arrest
and are now in the custody of the authorities here. A magistrate
is expected form another settlement for the wedding, and it has been decided
that he will try this case.
30 Marpenoth,
Year of Wild Magic
Gnomish weddings are very green; this one was, at any rate. Eleni
said something about how strange it was to preceed the wedding with the
funeral of Josen's father. Liala allowed that normally, it would
be Jory they would mourn at such a wedding, but the important thing was
the understanding that life continues, in spite of death. Shamil
was beautiful in a gown of several shades of green and flowers around her
head. The effect was nearly ruined by her discomfort, but once the
ceremony was completed, she seemed to almost enjoy the party. She
certainly was reluctant to leave when it was time, but I shall not judge
her for that. I do not know what she expected to take place with
Josen after the ceremony, but I am certain it could not be that bad.
I played for her. The other musicians resented my presence at first,
as my harmonies were strange to them, but after awhile I learned how they
combine their tones. It was odd playing such music — it had a happiness
to it that had forgotten its roots. There were no references in the
melody to the pain Shamil had suffered at the loss of a husband or the
loss of freedom upon meeting and marrying Josen. The harmonies did
not speak of the disappointment of Josen at having three wives, none of
his choosing. The rhythm was that of joke-telling or children playing
at chase-and-catch, not the desperately awkward heartbeat of lovers coming
together for the first time. It had a certain charm to it, but I
still prefer music that recognizes the fact that joy cannot be fully appreciated
without knowledge of the pain that came before. I paid the other
musicians for their music and the lessons I learned by playing with them,
and went into the woods.
Liala had told me there was a bear — still fairly young, they thought,
who had set up a territory which intruded dangerously far into their foraging
area. This had resulted in a few severe injuries until the creature's
territory could be mapped and the less experienced foragers kept well away
from it. They would not kill it unless it came into the village proper,
she said, for what would one do with a dead bear? If it died, however,
they would welcome the return of their old foraging patterms through the
next summer and fall. I walked until I found a lively brook with
lovely silver fish sqirting through the water. I removed my clothes
and placed them neatly into my pack. I selected a fairly dense bush
several yards from the water and piled my gear under it, keeping only my
sword. I combed my hair out of its braid with my fingers until it
hung loose at my back, raised my hands to the full moon, and sang the prayer
of preparation. As the last note fell silent on my lips, I bent my
head to the ground, seeking bearsign. I knew a clear brook with fish
would be a favorite place for a bear, though I was unsure how active the
creature would be this late in the fall. I might find a very cold
trail. The trail was a few days old, but did lead me to the bear's
den. The Maiden hunted with me, for the night's chill could not entirely
explain why I emerged victorious. I danced, then I tended my wounds,
healing with prayers those that my companions might see, and binding the
rest of them. I will probably have some scars on my back and breasts
because of this. It took several trips to bring the bearmeat back
to the village. I am tired.
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