//------------------------------// // Prologue // Story: The Land of Song and Dance // by Aestroch //------------------------------// Darkness. That was all I could see. The canopy above my head blocked out any moonlight that would have made my job even a modicum easier. Watch duty was never an easy assignment, and the night shifts were made all the worse due in no small part to the sheer darkness that was characteristic of the Raal Forest. Then again, the tightly knit branches above kept the floor of the forest clear, and the little light that could reach the ground during the day was plenty enough to feed the growth of grass and hardy shrubs. A perfect location for my herd. Let the Caretakers say what they will, but with the increase in poachers lately, and the cautious stalking of the local predators, the thick trunks and near total darkness of the Raal forest provided ample protection for our precious herd. Speaking of, it seemed as though one of the Caretakers had lost track of their charge. The signature hoof-falls of the lead buck sounded behind me. This one was a trouble maker, always straying to the outer lines of the Wardens’ perimeter. The Caretaker Matron used to suggest that he believed that it is his duty to help protect the does from the dangers of the night, but I said that he just liked the scent of the leather underneath a Warden’s armour, as disturbing as that may sound. Perhaps because it smelled of the elders passed, whom we ensure are given proper dues as useful materials around camp, from food to leather to their massive antlers. Regardless, I had to deal with this quickly, so that I may return my gaze uninterrupted to the outside. I turned towards the approaching buck and caught my breath as I always do when presented with the sheer majesty of the son or Raasinav. “Here buck, what brings you this far from your bedmates? They get cold without you.” I whispered to the regal shadow before me, as it came into sharper focus. Nearly a head taller than me, the deep tans and browns of his head hung down near my chin in a cascade reminiscent of an old man’s beard. I extended my hand, careful with the large shield strapped to my forearm, and ran my hand over the proud being’s chin. He groaned softly, closing his soft golden eyes to revel in my attention, leaning his head into my hand, causing the antlers for which his kind are renown to swing wildly. I often found myself wondering how strong his neck was in order to support such gargantuan hunks of bone in such an unwieldy location. Truly, the wonders of Raasinav’s creativity knew no bounds. Still, the buck was away from his herd, and was taking precious attention from the perimeter. I murmured softly, caressing his jaw line, and pressed his forehead to mine. “Go back to your herd, large one. There is danger this far from the camp, and your children are not yet of age.” He closed his eyes and groaned at me. “Yes, yes, I know the Matron is a nag, but she has your best interests at heart. Go now, watch over your kin.” The buck tossed his head and snorted at me. “There is always danger, my friend. That is why I and my fellow Wardens are here. To ensure your herd’s safety.” The behemoth is front of me began acting agitated, and gripped my hand in his mouth and began tugging me further in to the forest. As heavy as I may have been in full armour, the deer had much more strength than I, and I slowly began being dragged farther from my post. “Hey, stop that. If there were something wrong in the camp, I would have heard of it by now. Come on, I really need to be watchi-“ I was cut off by the sound of a thick thump from behind. The alpha stopped tugging and dropped my hand as I pivoted in place. There, where I had been standing mere moments ago was a harpoon, quivering in the ground as it settled. I took up my two antler shields and listened hard for the telltale whistle of incoming missiles “Go. Raise the alarm.” I whispered to the buck. He immediately turned and galloped away into the trees. In the darkness of the forest, little could be seen in the distance. This served only as a minor hindrance, as I had trained in these very woods. I closed my eyes and slowed my breathing, listening for any telltale noise. Silence. Light whistling, wind through trees. Heartbeat. Exhale. Light whistling, arrow through air. Raise shield. Light clatter, arrow against shield. Imperceptible thud, arrow against ground. Heartbeat. Inhale. Loud whoosh, incoming harpoon. Duck and roll forward. Exhale. Impact with ground, roll. Thud behind, harpoon against earth. Light whistle, arrow through air. Mid-roll, no time to raise shield. Loud clatter, arrow against armour. Muffled footfalls. Company. Heartbeat. Inhale. Shields at ready. Loud whistle, whispered song. Sword strike, magic aided? Shield up front, charge. Clatter, sword against shield. No aid. Heartbeat. Exhale. Shield behind, swing. Scrunch, thump. Target neutralized. Heartbeat. Inhale. Pain. Ψ Ψ Ψ I woke up next to the body of a Corukh poacher, light dimly gleaming from above. From the look of him, I’d carved into his arm with the sharpened edge of my shield, and caved in his lungs with the force of the swing. The light black cloth, leaf shaped blade and pale skin showed a time of wear and dirt. Desperate and foolish bait. Distracted as I had been by the target in front of me, I had not registered the lack of Choraturgic glow from him that should have alerted me to the presence of more poachers. The spell shut my senses down and should have killed me. Perhaps due to the inept Choraturgy of the poacher’s support, or due to the magic resistant Steelbone Antler that made up my armour, I had instead been rendered unconscious. After enough attempts made upon my herd, I’d learned enough of Choraturgy to recognize deadly intent in a spell. Regardless, I was alive and undisturbed, even here in the morning afterwards. The accomplice must have assumed I was dead and moved on to- Oh. No. No. I turned and picked myself up from the ground, and made haste towards the camp the Caretakers had made with the herd, not caring to muffle my footfalls or quiet my breath as I dodged between trees. Fire greeted me. Death rose to hunt. Raasinav wept. His herd- No. My herd lay strewn about, antlers sawn from their skulls with magic and blade, arrows and gashes littering their hides. Tan and brown had become red and black. Fur matted to skin, and flesh lay exposed to open air. Around the desiccated deer lay my brethren, my fellow Wardens, impaled upon ballistae, or cut through their thick armour. Even the blessing of Raasinav himself, the Steelbone antlers forged into armour, had not been enough to save them. Behind the Wardens, amongst the deer, were the Caretakers. Men and women, children and the elderly, cut down without mercy. How many poachers had there been? Enough to lay siege to an entire herd of Raasinav Steelbone Deer and their Wardens and win. With no casualties. Not even the alpha, the most dangerous among us, Warden and deer, had any bodies to boast of his prowess. I looked upon his corpse, bereft of his magnificent splendor, and wept. It is because of this kind soul that I was alive. He pulled me from the path of the initial harpoon. And I had failed him. I had failed them all. All that was left for me was the blood of my herd, and the duty to honour the fallen. My armour fell to the ground beside me as I unbuckled and unstrapped it. Two shields, vambraces, pauldrons, curiass, fauld, greaves, sabatons and helmet were strewn near me, leaving me in my leather padding. Scruffy brown hair fell across my pale face and obscured my deep, purple eyes, absorbing tears that had begun to flow freely. But I did not stop, for there was work to be done. My brothers and sisters, cut down in their armour and left to rot: A pyre. The Caretakers, of all races and breeds: Burial. The Steelbone Deer, my herd: Harvest. As was tradition, I began the gruesome work of collecting the blood of my fallen herd. As a failure to my charges, I had left them to die, and whether or not it was by choice, I had to face the consequences. I took the blood of the fallen deer and used it to dye the white and tan of the antlers that made my armour a deep red. Blood red. The blood spilled by my failure. All there was for me to do then was the final farewell, offering my penance as exile, and ensuring my herd’s passing into the grazing fields of Raasinav’s afterworld. And so, I took what remained of my charges, and set them before the portable shrine to Raasinav set within our camp. It was undisturbed. Even the lowest of poachers know to leave a shrine and offer no physical insult to a god’s countenance. There I sat, surrounded by my failure, the cooling corpses of over 20 deer, in front of the god who had given them shape. And I wept. Offered apologies and placations. But it would change nothing. As a failure, I was doomed to exile, to wander, forever carrying the scent and colour of what was my old life, and be forever ostracized from any who would encounter me. I am not sure how long I spent there, kneeling before the benevolent countenance of Raasinav, when it spoke. A deep, reverberating hum, almost like the sound of hundreds of hooves stampeding at once, yet as graceful as a doe’s step. “Weep, child, for you have lost much today.” The voice said, benevolent, yet disappointed. “Yes. I have lost all that I once held dear. All due to my own incompetence as a Warden in your name, Lord Raasinav.” My own voice cracked and strained from work and loss, thick from sorrow, and quiet in reverence. “And you have nothing left here. Your people are dead, your charges poached. Yet you still stand. Perhaps for not much longer.” I sniffled slightly, an undignified noise for a warrior. “Aye. Few would hire a traitor and a failure. I do not deserve to taste the flesh of your kin, Lord Raasinav, and so I leave my… what was my herd, in your hands. Please be merciful, this enemy was too great for any of us, it seems.” “They died bravely, fighting until the last. Rest easy knowing that your herd grazes evermore in the Vanis Fields. The alpha of your herd… An unusual soul, even for one of mine. He has forgone the fields beyond, and instead spent his energy here. He has requested a boon of me.” I dared not raise my head at these words. A boon from a god? What could he have wanted from the father of his race that was important enough to jeopardize his immortal soul? “A boon? I am… unsure as to how this pertains to me, Lord.” “Tell me. Is there nothing for you in this land? No family, no friends?” “No, Lord. Revulsion and poverty are all that remain for me here.” “I see. Then I put forth this choice for you to make.” Choice? “Leave you armour behind, and let your shields be your only defense…” A death wish and an insult to traditions, and my memories. “Or leave this land behind. Walk until you no longer recognize the terrain, and then walk farther, never to return here.” Exile, exactly as I had been expecting. Though a tad extreme in its distance, the size of my failure, the razing of an entire herd and its followers would merit such a demand. A choice: To leave behind my traditions, my memories, and my protection, or to leave all that I know behind, never to return. My answer was clear. “I will walk, my Lord Raasinav. I will walk until I can no longer find my way, and that I shall walk farther. Never again shall I lay eyes on these forests and their people. Exile in the extreme.” There was a short silence, then a rumble of sound from the altar in front of me. Deafening was the noise, akin to the horns of war blowing over the charge of cavalry as the earth rent itself apart below. The sound continued on for several seconds before tapering off, fading into the distance. “Very well.” The voice of Raasinav spoke. “Collect your armour and be gone. To the North and the East.” “As you command.” “I would have one last thing from you, Warden.” I halted in raising myself from a kneeling position. “Yes, Lord?” “I would know your name.” My name. I stood slowly, thoughts grinding to a halt. A god- MY god- wanted to know my name. Such an honour was unheard of for ones as low as I. But my god wanted my name. And so I gave it to him. “Alan Dehis.”