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 Beast-walker's Trails: The Journal of Krel An

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Rakaneth



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Join date : 2017-09-29

PostSubject: Beast-walker's Trails: The Journal of Krel An   Sat Oct 21, 2017 1:46 pm

The Brotherhood of Steel

A Weaponsmith named Moore, as well as other metal-benders, got a pack of Name-givers together to seek metal in a mountain up the Dragon.

Our pack: Moore, the human Weaponsmith; Thane, a troll Sky Raider; Ulfgar, a dwarf Wizard, and myself. I did not lead this pack.

We encountered some strange birds that Ulfgar seemed to enjoy talking to. They were colored prettily and, apparently, were smart enough to talk back, though not in any way I could understand. They saw some kind of large thing, and something headed our way. They are very long-winded creatures for birds that don't sing. I'm not entirely sure Ulfgar wasn't making up the bit about them talking...

We continued up the foothills. Something charged at us. Well, not directly at us, but we were definitely in the way. It was a genhis cow. Easy meat, since it really didn't want to fight. Took me a while to bleed the creature, though. There were some concerns about what it was fleeing. I didn't see any tracks following it, try as I might to do so, but we did follow the very obvious trail it left to a large clearing in front of a cave.

The whole thing reeked of carnage. Dead bits of all sorts of things lay strewn about. In the center was a big ogre (and no, they DON'T look anything like a troll!) with a big club. They hunt metal like I hunt game. Some trade with them. We didn't. We took it down, though I had some trouble laying claws on it. Too much time in the tent city, I guess.

Turns out that genhis had just littered. (What else do you call a birth of hundreds of young?) Also turns out that genhis kids are ten times more ravenous than goats. Also turns out they have really sharp teeth when they're young. We went in the cave, and found more carnage, as well as a very unstable cave, and genhis kids feeding. These I had less trouble with; I tore two of them asunder (remind me to cook their meat later). The rest of my pack took care of the others, though one of the genhis kids opened Moore up.

We got Moore outside while the others investigated the cave. Once Moore was standing again, we found his metal, as well as some elemental earth. Not sure what it's good for, but the others were excited to find it. Seems that this cave was an ogre's den; we found another dead one, chewed up by the genhis kids. This isn't an ogre's home anymore, though we didn't find any more genhis kids.

I hope their meat is tasty. I might try some raw.
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PostSubject: Re: Beast-walker's Trails: The Journal of Krel An   Sat Oct 21, 2017 7:11 pm

The Delver's Athanaeum thanks Krel An for this contribution to their archives.

Reward: 93 silver and 46 legend points
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Rakaneth



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Join date : 2017-09-29

PostSubject: Re: Beast-walker's Trails: The Journal of Krel An   Fri Oct 27, 2017 1:23 pm

Something Fishy

I am furious.

Absolutely furious.

Let me explain why.

My pack was Heartscry, an Illusionist; Moore, the Weaponsmith; and Vrastan, the wizard. Moore and Vrastan I have hunted with before; Heartscry is new to my pack, and she proved valuable in our hunt.

We were tasked with recovering some valuables a fisherman had lost. As the fisherman tells it, he lost them while in a lake. So it was, then, that we made our way down an old trade trail toward the lake. We were attacked by a boar and two cheetahs. Beneath my claws, the boar did not last long, Vrastan blasted them with fire and hardened my claws. Heartscry cast her Monstrous Mantle over me, and I became the beast I have seen in my dreams. Afterwards, as I gathered trophies, Moore presented me with a necklace of things we have both hunted, as well as things I have never seen. It is the most beatiful thing I have ever owned, and perhaps will. It is a testament to his skill as a craftsman, and I am honored to wear it.

Farther down the trail, we faced two crocodiles that came out of the river. Heartscry enchanted them; they fled. With Moore wounded from our fight with the last band of animals, we did not want to risk crossing over the river, even if it meant having to face the crocodiles again. We took some time to rest, then returned to the river, where the crocodiles awaited us. Vrastan said they had magic upon them. It makes sense; crocodiles would not leave their wallows to chase prey on land. I suspected that a rival Beastmaster might be behind them, but I gave no voice to that thought. I smelled something strange in the air, and warned the pack as such; just then, two large apes, led by a silverback, leapt from the woods. The silverback pounded me while Vrastan burned them with his fire. Moore was laid low by the silverback while the other apes took turns throwing rocks at him. With some effort, we slew the rest, and I went to try to help Moore with his wounds. It seems I hadn't quite helped, as he still complained of pain afterwards. I must remember to think like a man and not a beast when I try to help others that way...

We pressed on to the lake, finally, catching sight of a windling watching something in the distance. Heartscry greeted him, and he turned to us, claws splayed - a Beastmaster, as I thought - and I thought we would need to do battle. No, as it turned out - he watched a monster lumber about near his things. I turned to look, and saw a beast that gave me pause for a moment. It was large, with great tusks and troll-skin. That thing could be...me. I saw myself in that thing, and the thought terrified me. It reminded me of the things my brother would tell stories about to frighten me. I was wary at first, holding back until the thing drew nearer, to give Heartscry and Vrastan time to empower me with their magic. It give them no time, charging immediately. I was ready, and stepped up to strike it; my claws drew no blood. Moore stepped up beside me, as he always does, and struck it hard with a clawed foot. (I will never understand why humans surprise me with their tricks.) The creature turned and turned Moore into a bloody heap on the ground at my side.

I now know what the alpha wolf feels when a packmate dies. How many times must I fail him this day?

The world turned red, and all I could smell was Moore's blood. I remember tearing into the beast; I also remember it being burned as well. What I don't remember is the time I spent ripping it apart (so I am told I did). After I emerged, covered in blood - not just mine, but the creature's as well, and the other things I slew -I went to Moore, who, thanks to Heartscry, still lived. I could not bear to look at him. As I was leading the pack (though earlier I thought I should not have been), I blamed myself for him coming to such great harm, and I told him as much. He explained to me that he sees it as his duty to bear the worst in battle, that I might strike them dead. I cannot fathom the strength and courage this man has. I would follow him anywhere, and, if given a chance, I would always have him hunting with me. I never knew I would feel this way about another Name-giver. I thought I would be a lone wolf, but perhaps that is not to be at all.

Then, I remembered why we had been sent in the first place. The other windling, whose name was Gerowl, told me that the things he was gathering belonged to him. I thought he might be lying, since I was sent to fetch them, but Heartscry told us that he was not lying. Gerowl also told us that he had ordered his friends to keep him safe while he watched the monster.  

His friends-

The animals acting strangely-

We slew them.

I become overwhelmed with guilt and anger. If that had been the last thing I learned about this journey, I would have been angry enough, but then Gerowl showed Vrastan a scrap of paper among his lost things, and then explained that they had found the mark of some thieves' guild...the Black Fingers?

That is why I am furious. I am furious because I have been a fool, and allowed myself to be used like someone's hunting-dog. Moore has a plan for revenge, one that I like, even if I don't think it's enough. I will track that thief down, and he will learn what it means to try to tame me.
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PostSubject: Re: Beast-walker's Trails: The Journal of Krel An   Sat Oct 28, 2017 12:08 am

The Delver's Athanaeum thanks Krel Al for this addition to their archives.

Reward: 96 silver and 48 legend points.
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Rakaneth



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Join date : 2017-09-29

PostSubject: Re: Beast-walker's Trails: The Journal of Krel An   Wed Nov 15, 2017 4:45 am

The Tower of Cats

If I never see another housecat again, it will be too soon.

Ulfgar, a dwarf Wizard I have run with before, asked for help in exploring a tower where he thinks he might find lost knoweldge about his wand. Heartscry and T'rask, a t'skrang Swordmaster I've never run with, round out the rest of the pack.

I have a bad feeling about this for reasons I don't understand, so I ask Ulfgar to find a last-chance salve for me in Travar before we go. He does - even managing to get a discount.

We make our way to the tower, which is infested with cats of all shapes and sizes. The air reeks of their stench, and of dead birds littering the ground. A prowling tiger approaches, which I chase away with a look.

We enter the tower cautiously, not sure what to expect. Several rooms are closed off to us, and we choose the closest to explore first. The corridor is guarded by a large cat - a felux, to be precise, a creature with a dangerously blinding gaze. Ulfgar discovers rather painfully that there is some ward against flying in place, which, looking back, explains the dead birds outside. The battle is brief, but difficult, ending when T'rask and I manage to get the slippery cat to stand still long enough for us to strike it. Remembering that felux eyes are prized by enchanters, I take them back to sell, as well as a felux fang for myself as a trophy.

We explore the room beyond, which does not contain anything interesting that I recall. Moving then to the opposite side, we open the door to find the room exposed on its north side to the air. With some of us battered after the fight with the felux, we decide to rest there.

Oh, what a terrible mistake that turns out to be.

We hear a strange noise and I catch the foul scent of decaying corpses. Two massive balls of dead and dying cats (I think Ulfgar called these globberogs) barrel into the open room. T'rask and I move to the first, while the second rolls past us toward Ulfgar. I spot the tiger that I sent away, stuck to the second cat-death-ball. It doesn't appear alive anymore. I quickly find myself stuck to the first and desparately fighting to free myself. T'rask, beside me, is in similar straits. He manages to free me shortly before I do the same for him, and I move to the second, which Ulfgar faces alone. I try to free Ulfgar, but in doing so, become stuck to the second. Try as I might, I cannot free either myself or Ulfgar, and I slowly weaken as the thing drains the strength from me. After several painful moments, I give into pain and know no more.

I wake outside the tower. I'm told we had to flee, for both Ulfgar and I fell in that fight, and that we only live because we carried last-chance salves. I do not know if Ulfgar found what he sought there, but I think I will teach my bear cub to hunt housecats.
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Rakaneth



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PostSubject: Ironbark Kaer   Wed Nov 15, 2017 5:15 am

Ironbark Kaer

At some point, I will be more than a burden on my pack.

Zalph, an elf Elementalist I have never run with before, has heard a rumor about a strange tree a merchant told him about, and seeks a pack to track it down. Calapa, an obsidiman Purifier, and Kato, a troll Thief (and I thought my Nethermancer brother was strange) join him as well.

We spend some days trekking through a jungle I could spend the rest of my life in. More game to hunt and more trails to walk than in any other place I have been since leaving my moot. At first, I'm lost in the abundance of life in the jungle, but I eventually guide the rest of the pack to the strange tree. When we arrive, we are greeted by a horrible-looking thing that reminds me of the nightmarish things my brother would taunt me with. When we overcome the initial shock and awe of the thing, we take it down quickly.

We spend a night nearby, and are visited by some small creature in the night. Resolving to track it in the morning as a precaution, we spend the otherwise uneventful night resting.

The tree is guarded by strange lizard-cats called Kue. Kato disappears to investigate the tree, leaving the rest of us to deal with the Kue. I try to take charge of the pack by dominating the leader, but it is hard-headed. While I consider my next move, Kato roars from his position to try to intimidate them, and we fight.

The fight goes poorly. The little cat-lizard-things overwhelm us.

I wake to find Kato standing over me. We call out to the tree in attempted greeting, and a voice calls back, saying that 'it has not yet been a year.' None of us understand what this means, and eventually an emissary from the tree - apparently a windling kaer? - greets us. She is in poor shape, unkempt, wounded, and utterly silent. I can tell that she suffers, and I try to repair her broken wing, and...it falls apart in my hands. The little windling insists that this is due to the Horror that has marked her (as we puzzle out from her attempts to speak with us). She has apparently sacrificed herself for the sake of the others, giving herself to the Horror and allowing it to mark her. It shows us its foul influence on more than one occasion. After much deliberation, we decide to hunt the thing down and free this kaer from its foulness.

After this, I need to dig my claws into something - preferably a Horror.
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PostSubject: Re: Beast-walker's Trails: The Journal of Krel An   Fri Nov 17, 2017 9:43 pm

The Delver's Athanaeum thanks Krel An for these additions to their archives.

Rewards:
The Tower of Cats: 130 silver, 65 legend points
The Ironbark Kaer: 88 silver, 44 legend points
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Rakaneth



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PostSubject: Hunting the Horror of Ironbark Kaer   Sun Nov 26, 2017 11:43 pm

Hunting the Horror of Ironbark Kaer

Horrors are aptly named. It is good that I had a pack with me.

I ran with not one, but two Windlings - Poolate, a Warden (which is something like a Beastmaster, but without the predatory nature) and Fliver, an Illusionist. Moore, who has apparently learned some things from my brother, joined me as well.

Fliver was with a second group that had gone exploring our prey's lair, so once we reached the jungle, I let him guide us. Between him and Poolate, we manage to find the creature's lair, where inside, a nest of krilworms awaits us. Moore tries to befriend one, which goes horribly wrong, and they attack. Fortunately, the krilworms present little threat to us, with Moore bashing them, Poolate commanding them to be elsewhere, and me and Poolate's companions shredding them to bits.

All along the walls of this cave are images of windlings - some well-done, others clearly the work of children - but every one of them is marred or broken somehow. I find the images disturbing. Seeing this renews my resolve to destroy the thing that dwells here.

We descend deeper into the cave, finding a garbage pile and a deep hole. Moore demonstrates his mastery of all crafts by fashioning a stairway from a large tree. I am not sure the decorations and the maker's mark were necessary, but I am not a craftsman.

At the bottom of the hole, we find small, scorpion-tailed, sharp-clawed creatures called Stingers lining the cave walls. I call out a warning to the others, and battle is enjoined again. Two of the creatures sting me, but Moore passes an antidote to me as I fall back. Moore holds the line as Poolate befriends one of them. Poolate's boar and the others strike down another, and one scurries away. We retreat to the cave entrance to regroup, then return, sending the two waiting Stingers away.

Proceeding deeper into the cave, we come upon a ghostly windling, her hand extended toward us as if to offer a dance. Poolate and Fliver, both more knowledgeable about these things than I, begin to dance with her. I huddle into a corner and watch, ready to strike if this turns sour - which it nearly does, from my understanding. Poolate begins to dance and speak with the spectral windling, but the dance seems to wear quickly on him. Fliver steps in just before Poolate collapses from exhaustion, and the poor soul disappears. Not wanting to continue further in our generally battered state, I lead the pack back out, where we recover, lick our wounds, and bed down for the night.

In the night, a pride of troajins attack. They go after our animals, but between my claws and Poolate's affinity with them, we quickly drive them off.

As rested as we will be, we decide to go to face the Horror. We descend into the cave, entering its lair. I spot the creature and halt just outside its den, resolving to wait until Fliver can grant me the Monstrous Mantle, but this never happens. Moore charges into the darkness, but he cannot see without Poolate's light! So it is then that we charge the creature. This thing....it looks like something from my brother's nightmares. It has human hands that it walks on like a dog, with nasty teeth and a terrifying visage. It does...something to us that makes our skin crawl, and then something to me which I don't understand. I charge in and strike it with a blow that felled a bear in one stroke.

It yet stands.

I howl a rallying cry.

My howl is not my own. It is not the rallying cry to my pack. It is a terrible screech of agony that causes the others to writhe in pain. I do not know how I made this sound, nor could I close my own mouth to stop making it. I strike again, a blow that tore the heart from a felux.

It yet stands.

It turns to me, fixes its horrible, foul gaze on me.

In that moment, I know that I will fail, just as I had failed Moore during one of our earliest adventures when he had fallen, just as I had failed the windling who was marked by this thing, just as I had failed T'rask and Ulfgar at the Tower of Cats. I want nothing more than to lie down and die, and my intention is to do just that, to let this thing consume me and be done with it. Never have I been of use to anyone, despite all of my efforts. I am a shame to my moot, worth less even than my brother. I will never speak again. The weight of my failure consumes me utterly. I feel it tear into me, but I ignore it. Soon, all of this will be over. It will tear my throat open, and I will fail my pack no more.

Someone is shaking me; words are said. The creature falls. Suddenly, Moore barks a command to me, a command to speak. I submit to my alpha before I realize what is going on. I ask - quietly, fearfully, for I know not that the creature no longer controls my voice - if it has ended. Moore explains to me, quietly, that yes, the creature is slain.

In a pit near the creature's lair is an old corpse of the last hunter who came to face this thing. He did not come with a pack, though it seems that he did come prepared. There are many treasures among this lost hunter's things, including something Ulfgar told me would be here. That I take for myself, as well as a last chance salve. This lost hunter has been avenged, and all of my pack lives.

Perhaps I am not so worthless after all. Just like the wolf, I am as strong as the pack around me. Without this pack, I would have certainly been lost.
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